“Damn, those bastards…!”
Lee Jun-hyuk’s curse exploded into the cold, sunken air of the Warehouse.
He glared in contempt at the black, stiff hair stuck to the tip of his chopsticks, unable to even touch it with his bare hands.
His tightly clenched fist turned his knuckles white. The veins rose at his nape, and his whole face flushed a furious red.
The usual cold and calculating demeanor was nowhere to be seen.
This was more than mere business sabotage—it was an insult to humanity and a desecration of sweat and effort.
Bancroft.
Lee Jun-hyuk repeated the name in his mind.
The sneering joke Bancroft had made during the day, the sick malice hidden inside it, had now become reality before his eyes.
The sneer about how “Orientals work without complaint, even in filthy conditions” echoed through the cold air of the Warehouse.
No doubt, the original plan was to throw in an entire dead rat.
But a midnight intrusion hadn’t been as easy as expected. Whether they ran short on time, or feared being discovered, they must have hurriedly stuffed in only a few hairs in this despicable, cunning way before making their escape.
Leaving dirty traces behind—this was all a scheme to bring them down from within.
“Let’s check the other cans too.”
Lee Jun-hyuk spoke.
His voice was not hot with rage, but sunk as cold as ice.
A chill of fear trembled at his fingertips beneath his cold fury.
If even a single can had gone out like this with the Delivery?
If it had been discovered on a customer’s table, during dinner with their family?
The name La Choy would have ended that day, ruined with the disgrace of being “dirty Oriental defective food”.
He tried hard to erase from his mind the most nightmarish scenario, which made his head spin just to imagine.
Now was not the time for sentiment.
He hurriedly opened more cans.
The can opener’s sharp scrape of metal sounded through the Warehouse with a grating urgency.
One, two, three…
The third can was clean.
So was the fourth.
Just as a faint sigh of relief was about to escape, the fifth can revealed more disgusting evidence.
This time, it was even more blatant.
Several black hairs had been maliciously clumped together.
As if mocking, they were cunningly wedged between the bean sprouts, so easy to miss with a careless glance.
“How many cans did they do this to?”
Yu Ilhan’s voice carried despair.
Lee Jun-hyuk looked around at the box with a hardened face.
Fifty cans in this box. Of the five checked, two were contaminated. Simple probability: 40%. If this held for the whole box…
“We must assume at least twenty cans are contaminated.”
Yu Ilhan bit his lip, quickly calculating in his head.
“No, perhaps even more. If they had enough time, maybe the whole box…”
Before he could finish, the men who had gone to scout outside returned.
The Warehouse door opened, and two men entered, bringing the dawn’s cold wind with them. Their faces told all.
“There are traces of a ladder at the back wall.”
One man, warming his frozen hands with his breath, reported.
“The barbed wire at the top is bent, and there are clear scrape marks on the bricks. Someone definitely climbed over the wall and broke in.”
As expected. Their anxious suspicions were confirmed in this instant.
“And we found this.”
The man carefully held out something wrapped in a handkerchief.
A cigarette butt. It hadn’t quite gone out—thin smoke still rose from the tip. Evidence that the culprit had been here only moments ago.
Kim Young-soo took it, sniffed it.
“Camel. A costly cigarette—thirty-five cents a pack.”
Camel.
The same cigarette Bancroft had set on the table during his meeting with Fonzi. Maybe he hadn’t come himself, but clearly his henchmen had, acting on his orders.
“This whole box… needs to be destroyed.”
Lee Jun-hyuk made his decision.
Fifteen cents per can. Fifty cans: seven dollars and fifty cents. The equivalent of a week’s wages for a regular worker.
His heart ached at the thought of throwing away that hard-earned money.
But there was no other choice.
A single defective can could rot the very roots of the La Choy tree.
“Yes, we must.”
Yu Ilhan agreed heavily.
His face, too, reflected the emptiness of seeing dozens of hours of labor go up in smoke.
“What about tomorrow morning’s Delivery? We’re supposed to send 200 cans just to Gourmet Deli…”
That was the biggest problem.
Gourmet Deli—200 cans. Chinatown stores—180 cans.
The Promise of their immediate future was on the line.
“We’ll have to start extra production from dawn.”
Lee Jun-hyuk said.
The Warehouse’s cold air seemed to harden his resolve even further.
“From dawn?”
Yu Ilhan’s eyes widened.
Even in fatigue and despair, he spotted a faint glimmer of possibility.
“I’ll start at four. Three hours is enough to make fifty cans. I’ll help, too.”
“You, sir? You’ll do it yourself?”
Yu Ilhan’s voice was full of pure surprise.
A company president—especially a college graduate—working the production line himself was unthinkable in this era.
“Of course. This is your product and mine, is it not?”
Lee Jun-hyuk’s gaze lingered on the contaminated can.
His revulsion had transformed into a cold rage quietly boiling within.
Kim Young-soo, having listened to their conversation, stepped forward.
“I’ll send you more men. There’s no guarantee this won’t happen again—we’ll need security around the clock from now on.”
He already grasped the seriousness of the situation, and the shape of the battles yet to come.
“Thank you. I’ll cover the expense…”
“We’ll discuss that later.”
Kim Young-soo waved it off with a friendly smile.
His face shone with the sense of mission and Solidarity that came from helping fellow countrymen struggling in a foreign land.
“Right now, the most important thing is to get through this Crisis. Can we just stand by while our compatriots suffer such disgrace in the middle of New York?”
Lee Jun-hyuk could say nothing more, bowing his head. Action, not words, was the truest show of Solidarity.
“And, Lee Jun-hyuk…”
Kim Young-soo’s expression shifted back to that of a sharp businessman.
“This Bancroft is no ordinary man. I’ve been in Brooklyn for fifteen years, but I’ve never seen such a vicious and dirty trick. Your opponent is someone without rules or honor.”
“I know.”
Lee Jun-hyuk thought.
This was a Declaration of War. Bancroft would not give up.
Either he broke, or Bancroft did.
This battle would not end until one of them fell.
“But…”
He could not just sit down and surrender. They say Crisis is also Opportunity.
“Let’s take pictures.”
“What?”
“Evidence. Proof of their baseness. We’ll need it later.”
“Ah!”
At last, Yu Ilhan nodded, his eyes regaining the cold clarity that went beyond mere anger.
“I’ll bring the camera right away.”
Yu Ilhan dashed off to the New York Office without a trace of fatigue.
Lee Jun-hyuk locked eyes with Kim Young-soo.
Kim Young-soo nodded in silence.
He knew well, from long experience, the importance of evidence.
His gaze seemed to say, “Good thinking.”
Soon, Yu Ilhan returned with a Kodak Brownie Camera.
Snap!
The flash exploded in the Warehouse’s dim darkness.
That instant of light captured every detail: the disgusting truth of the can filled with rat hairs, the marks left on the fence from the break-in, even the arrogance of the criminal’s discarded cigarette—all etched into the film.
Yu Ilhan documented everything meticulously.
“Take one more shot from a different angle. Make sure the Label is visible.”
At Lee Jun-hyuk’s instruction, Yu Ilhan pressed the shutter again.
Snap!
After finishing the Photo Evidence, Yu Ilhan set the camera down, looking at the cans doomed to destruction with a complicated expression.
“How could someone… to put something like this in food meant even for children…”
He bit his lip, unable to finish the sentence.
His clenched fists trembled with rage.
Yet, in the midst of everyone’s anger and emptiness, only Lee Jun-hyuk was lost in different thoughts.
Suddenly, he picked up one of the contaminated cans from the pile slated for destruction.
“Sir?”
Instead of answering, Lee Jun-hyuk held the can up to the Warehouse’s dim bulb, turning it this way and that.
Like a jeweler examining a gem, he ran a sharp gaze over the top and bottom of the can.
He seemed to have noticed something strange, his brow subtly furrowing.
“Wait a moment.”
“Yes?”
“Yu Ilhan, something’s odd. Very odd.”
Lee Jun-hyuk placed the contaminated can side by side on the floor with an unopened, normal can.
The empty Warehouse rang with a metallic “kam-kang” as the cans touched.
“The cans we get from Brooklyn Canning use Double Seaming (40408 56300) technology. The lid and body are sealed with a double seam, making for a perfect Seal—the best available today. Without a can opener, it’s physically impossible to open.”
Yu Ilhan nodded.
“That’s right. The Brooklyn Canning salesmen always brag about that technology. No matter the pressure or impact, nothing leaks.”
“But think. How do you open this can? If you force it, the can bends or the lid is ruined. To reseal after stuffing in rat hair, you’d need a massive seaming machine we don’t even have at our Factory.”
As Lee Jun-hyuk logically explained, Yu Ilhan’s eyes widened. The heat of anger in his head cooled, replaced by realization.
He stared at Lee Jun-hyuk, his face full of doubt.
“Then… you mean…”
“Yes. That’s probably exactly it. Look closely at the tops of these two cans, at the round edge where the lid meets the body.”
Lee Jun-hyuk pointed to the rim with his finger.
“The sealed finish is subtly different. Ours is as smooth as if cut by a knife. This one, though, is just slightly rough—like you can feel grains of sand.”
Yu Ilhan quickly knelt, touching the seams of both cans in turn.
It was true.
Not visible to the eye, but just barely perceptible by fingertip—a minute difference.
But the gap between perfect machine precision and a crude imitation was unmistakable.
“My god… Then, those bastards…”
“They copied our Label and mass-produced fake cans. They stuffed filth like rat hair inside ahead of time, then broke into our Warehouse tonight to switch them with the real thing.”
Lee Jun-hyuk’s voice was icy.
Kim Young-soo drew near, examining the cans closely.
Shock crossed his face as he realized.
“This level of trickery… This isn’t something you can do just by hiring a few thugs. You need a Label Printing Shop to duplicate the labels, equipment to make cans to spec, and the funds and organization to plan and execute all of this.”
This wasn’t simple Sabotage.
It was a deliberate Industrial Crime.
“If it’s Bancroft, he’s more than capable. Money means nothing to him.”
Yu Ilhan’s voice trembled with rage.
“He either bought out a Label Printing Shop, or… brought in his own machinery altogether.”
“It must be the latter.”
Lee Jun-hyuk spoke with certainty.
“If you don’t want to leave evidence in dirty business like this, it’s safer to handle everything yourself than involve outsiders. And…”
He jerked his chin at the switched box.
“You can tell by how only this box was cleverly swapped. The others are untouched. Either they ran out of time, or took the minimum risk to test the waters.”
This was nothing less than a reconnaissance attack before the main assault.
“Still, it’s a small blessing amid disaster.”
Kim Young-soo said gravely.
“If those bastards had succeeded in switching the entire Factory’s shipment… we’d have unwittingly spread poison across all of New York.”
Just imagining it sent chills down their spines.
The La Choy brand would have suffered irreparable damage. Lee Jun-hyuk and Yu Ilhan would have been socially ruined.
Lee Jun-hyuk fell silent.
He quietly rose, scanning the entire Warehouse with new eyes.
This place was no longer just a Warehouse.
It was the breached stronghold of a battlefield, infiltrated by an invisible enemy.
“Now, let’s start cleaning.”
Lee Jun-hyuk rolled up his sleeves.
“Destroy all the contaminated ones, and re-inspect and sort the rest.”
Everyone began to move in silence.
The men Kim Young-soo had brought also worked without complaint, hauling boxes. In the heavy silence, an unspoken Solidarity bound them together.
The sack containing fifty contaminated cans felt heavier than its physical weight.
“What should I do with these?”
Yu Ilhan shouldered the sack and asked.
“Take it to the Incinerator behind the Factory. First thing in the morning, we’ll burn them—leave no trace.”
They had to guard even against the worst-case scenario of someone scavenging from the Sewer.
When they finally finished, it was well past one in the morning. The empty Warehouse hall seemed to lay bare their losses.
“Thank you all for your hard work.”
Lee Jun-hyuk bowed deeply to everyone who had helped.
“Especially you, President Kim. I won’t forget this favor.”
“No need for thanks.”
Even in fatigue, Kim Young-soo smiled warmly.
“There’s worse to come. Bancroft is no ordinary foe. We stopped him this time, but next time, he’ll dig in even more slyly.”
“I know. We’ll prepare thoroughly.”
“I’ll send security personnel first thing in the morning. Good men—our compatriots. Communication is key for responding quickly if anything happens.”
After Kim Young-soo and his party left, only Lee Jun-hyuk, Yu Ilhan, and the remaining guards were left in the vast Factory.
“Sir, you should go home and rest.”
Yu Ilhan said.
“I’ll stay here and monitor the situation a bit longer—just in case.”
“I’ll stay, too.”
Lee Jun-hyuk protested, but Yu Ilhan shook his head.
“You need to go home and sleep, sir. You have to come back by four, don’t you?”
“But…”
“I’ll be here. If you collapse, what will become of La Choy?”
Lee Jun-hyuk sighed.
Yu Ilhan was right.
“Then I’ll have just one more cup of coffee before I go. We can get things sorted out.”
“Let’s do that.”
The two returned to the New York Office.
Their legs felt leaden as they climbed the stairs.
All the accumulated fatigue seemed to hit at once.
The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee revived their exhausted minds, if only a little.
“Truly vicious people.”
Yu Ilhan’s hands trembled as he held his coffee cup. Whether from anger, exhaustion, or both, it was hard to tell.
“How can anyone even think to put rat hair in food for people to eat?”
“I’m sure the original plan was to put in an entire dead rat.”
Lee Jun-hyuk gave a bitter smile, gazing out the window.
“Either they didn’t have time, or they didn’t want to leave such obvious evidence. The more despicable the man, the more cowardly he tends to be.”
“Still, it’s a blessing in disguise. Everything could’ve been ruined.”
If even one contaminated can had made it through Delivery… Just imagining it made his blood run cold. The moment they lost their customers’ trust, La Choy would plummet into irretrievable ruin.
“We’ll have to prepare even more thoroughly from now on.”
Lee Jun-hyuk looked out over Brooklyn, cloaked in darkness. Beneath the seemingly peaceful city, the enemy’s hidden blade lurked, jealous of their success.
“I’ll order tamper-proof Seals, and have all the locks in the finished goods Warehouse replaced. Only the two of us will have the keys.”
Yu Ilhan busily jotted down tasks in his notebook. His meticulousness, shining even in Crisis, was a great strength to Lee Jun-hyuk.
“From now on, our men must accompany every step of the Delivery. From loading the truck at the Warehouse to unloading at the store, eyes must never leave it.”
One by one, they plugged the gaps.
Then, suddenly, Lee Jun-hyuk asked,
“Earlier, you said you heard a strange noise—how did you know?”
Yu Ilhan scratched his head sheepishly.
“To be honest… I just felt uneasy. That rat story Bancroft told kept nagging at me. I kept seeing his sneering face in my mind—I just couldn’t sleep.”
“So?”
“I decided to watch over the Factory, just in case. And sure enough, I heard rustling at the back. My heart nearly stopped—I called you right away.”
It was a stroke of luck.
If not for Yu Ilhan’s keen sense of foreboding, everything might have only come to light in the morning—too late to turn back.
“Thank you.”
Lee Jun-hyuk spoke from the heart.
“Truly, thank you. If not for you, Yu Ilhan, we might have been finished tonight.”
“Of course. It’s my company too, after all.”
Yu Ilhan gave a shy smile.
That smile allowed Lee Jun-hyuk to finally relax, if only for a moment.
The two were true partners.
Just then, the clock in the office struck two.
Ding. Ding.
The low chime echoed through the quiet office.
“I’d better get going.”
Lee Jun-hyuk rose from his seat.
“I’ll be back at four. I need to grab at least an hour or two of sleep.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll grab some shut-eye here. No time to go home anyway.”
Yu Ilhan pointed to the office sofa.
As Lee Jun-hyuk left the Factory, the light in the second-floor office shone firmly through the night behind his back.
The cold dawn air seeped deep into his lungs, clearing his mind.
“Bancroft.”
Lee Jun-hyuk murmured his name softly.
“If you want to play it this way, then I’ll stop being a gentleman, too.”
Luckily, the yellow light of a taxi was approaching in the distance.
He raised his hand to flag it down.
“To the Plaza Hotel, please.”