Tae Hwan, the gang leader, was sitting at his table, smoking his second cigarette in a row. His laughter echoed throughout the room.
"Ha-ha! Just look at this guy," he said with the cigarette in his mouth, rubbing his hands together as he laughed. "He really had us sweating!"
Taek Jung, sitting nearby, looked at his boss with bewilderment.
"You mean Ming You? He made us win by making his own team lose, Tae Hwan. Doesn't that mean he's smarter than we thought?"
"Smarter?" Tae Hwan burst out laughing again, but this time his laughter was full of admiration. "He truly surprised me! He has something special. I see potential in him. This guy knows how to play, and he isn't afraid to take risks!"
"But he put us at risk; we shot him in the leg on his instruction, and if he hands the bullet over to the police, we'll all be busted," remarked Taek Jung, glancing uncertainly at his comrades. "Maybe we should be more careful?"
"More careful?" Tae Hwan leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "You don't understand! This is only the beginning. Ming You thinks he's one step ahead, but I know how to catch him. He's too overconfident, and that's his weakness. Besides, he's still a schoolboy."
The other gang members began to exchange glances, their doubts gradually dissipating under the influence of Tae Hwan's confidence.
"And what are you going to do?" asked one of them, Sung Wo. "We can't let him keep conducting business like this."
"It's simple," replied Tae Hwan, his voice turning more serious. "We'll create a situation where he has to continue manipulating circumstances, thereby bringing us money. We'll make it so he is forced to turn to us for help. It will be a brilliant move!"
"But how?" asked Taek Jung, still not believing in his boss's plan.
"We'll set up a game," declared Tae Hwan, his smile growing wider. "But not just any game. We'll gather the best players from all around, and let Ming You try to handle them. If he loses—he'll be in our hands! Besides, to play the role of a caring captain, he'll have to play our games."
"That's risky," noted Sung Wo. "What if he wins anyway?"
"If he wins," Tae Hwan raised a finger, "we'll just set another trap. In the end, he can't play forever. He doesn't have our experience. He's just a kid who thinks he can run this game."
"To brilliant moves and successful schemes!" proclaimed one of the gangsters, raising a glass of alcohol.
"Yes!" the others joined in, and laughter once again filled the space, creating an atmosphere of unity and confidence in the upcoming plans.
…
The next day, at 2:40 PM, Ming You, still in his school uniform, approached the streetball court. It was empty at the moment, but some of the benches were occupied by men in black leather jackets.
"The first step is to learn about the opponents, and since they told me about the opponents in the last game, it means they can do it now too. But even if they don't, information can always be bought, especially from people like them."
Ming You approached the bench without hesitation, calling out to one of the gangsters:
"Taek Jung, I've come with a proposal. I know you are aware of the upcoming games. I would like to know about the team we are going to play against."
Taek Jung raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"Interesting. And what are you willing to offer in return?"
Ming You understood he didn't have much time, so he quickly adjusted.
"The first time, as I recall, you just told me about the opponents for free."
"That's because you wanted to place a bet. But now the games have become more serious. However, for half a million won, I'm willing to tell you about the team, and for another half a million, we'll find out all their weaknesses and tell you."
"I could figure out the weaknesses myself, but my time is limited, so it's important for me to know both the team and their weaknesses," Ming You stated confidently, throwing a million won onto the bench.
"And what if your team finds out you're throwing money around here when they're all in debt? Heh-heh," laughed Taek Jung.
"Just tell me already, what's this team like?" insisted Ming You.
"The team itself is nothing special, but their most dangerous player is the center, who controls everything and around whom his team adjusts, making them invincible on the court. If you plan to win—you and your team need to focus on Hee Rak. He is their heart and brain. If you can stop him from attacking and intercepting balls, the rest won't be able to resist."
Ming You memorized every word, understanding that this information could be decisive in their game. He felt the plan beginning to take shape, and his confidence in his actions only grew.
"Thank you, Taek Jung," said Ming You as the conversation came to an end. "It's a pleasure doing business with you."
"Likewise, Ming You," said Taek Jung, counting the money once more.
…
Returning home, Ming You sat down at the table, leaned his head back, and began carefully studying the upcoming game:
"Judging by the records of games during school time and the college game records, the team stands out significantly due to their strength, especially in attack. Their last game was first place in the winter season last year. This is quite a formidable problem for me... but every team has its weaknesses..."
"Hee Rak," he said aloud, pointing to a photo on his phone of a muscular guy with tanned skin, who was the true star of the opposing team. "He is their main trump card. If we neutralize him, a quick victory is guaranteed."
Ming You continued his train of thought, lowering his phone:
"Hee Rak isn't just an outstanding player; he's also the team leader. His presence on the court inspires his teammates and intimidates his opponents. Physically, he far surpasses me, so in-game strategies won't save the situation... the only way to win is to take him out of the game."
"Murder," he whispered, contemplating his own words. "It's the only way. In the game, he surpasses me in every aspect, but what about outside of it? Heh-heh. If I can incapacitate him, the others will be disoriented."
Ming You raised his head and, gripping his phone tightly with both hands, leaned over the table, staring intently at the bright screen. His fingers quickly scrolled through Hee Rak's social media feed. The networks revealed everything: his school, hobbies, even the latest post with a photo of him hanging from the basketball rim.
The background of the picture caught Ming You's attention. He peered into the reflections in the windows of neighboring buildings, making out familiar outlines—he knew the area. Without wasting time, he switched to a maps app, entered the landmarks, and quickly found the very court. Then he checked the distance to the school: less than a five-minute walk.
"The tactic is quite simple. If Hee Rak is often there, it means he lives nearby. All that was left was to wait, but having a backup plan never hurt."
Ming You opened Hee Rak's friends list, skimmed through the names, and stopped on the profile of a classmate. They could only be studying at the same school, and this guy, unlike Hee Rak, was a member of the volleyball club—a perfect candidate.
He clicked on the message option and wrote from a blank account that contained no photos, no personal information, not even a real name—just a gray avatar and a registration date. The profile was so clean it seemed like it was created five minutes ago, but the registration date was from a year ago.
The classmate's status was glowing green: "Online." Ming You quickly typed a message, trying to maintain a casual tone:
"Hi-hi :) Can you give me Hee Rak's number? Can't reach him, and we need to get to training already"
The reply came after four minutes:
"Ok, one sec"
Another two minutes—and the number appeared on the screen. Ming You copied it, then, remembering to maintain his cover, added a brief:
"Tysm"
He didn't close the dialog; instead, he left it open, watching the status. After twenty minutes, the green dot went out—the classmate had gone offline. No one else wrote, no one asked unnecessary questions.
Ming You went into the profile settings, found the "Delete Account" option, and confirmed the action. A few seconds later, the page disappeared as if it had never existed.
Ming You put the phone aside, continuing his thoughts:
"All that's left is to catch him. A crowbar should neutralize him, and crowbars are lying around in almost every alley... The location is trickier, but there must be a secluded spot between the court and the school."
He picked up his phone again, opening the maps. His gaze slid over the digital streets, studying every turn, every alley between the court and the school. Suddenly, Ming You paused on a narrow passage—something was off.
The buildings stood close together, but in one spot, the wall curved unnaturally, as if hiding something behind it. Ming You zoomed in, swiped his finger across the screen, checking the angles.
"Yes, there must be a basement there—either built into the slope or artificially dug out. The place is set, now I need to think about disposing of the evidence... I've dismembered bodies before, but cleaning the scene takes too much time, and the corpses in trash bags could still be identified because the previous 'me' did it out of desperation and my actions weren't professional."