April 17, 2035
Kang Min-cheol glanced at his Kim Il-sung watch, counting down. “1… 2… 3…” At “10,” he raised his palm. “Now.” Brazilian special forces silently sprinted down an alley, blocking it with cover and aiming rifles from both ends. Moments later, a building door opened, and several gang members emerged, hands raised in surrender. A special forces member gave Kang Min-cheol a thumbs-up. Kang scratched his head, sheepish.
As the prisoners were escorted to jail, Kang Min-cheol boarded an armored truck to the special forces headquarters. Minutes later, the truck arrived. Protected by operatives, he headed to the battalion commander’s office, passing an indoor training area where muscular special forces trained. In the office, the commander greeted him with a smile and a handshake. “You must be Kang Min-cheol from Korea? I’m Lieutenant Colonel Bruno Mendeira, BOPE commander.” He offered a seat. Kang sat, nervous. “…First, I’m from North Korea, not South.”
Bruno sipped coffee from his aide. “What’s the difference? You’re helping us—that’s what matters. Brazil’s government is strapped, cutting our budget to fight poverty. A skilled foreign intel agent like you is a godsend.” Kang rubbed his hands. “It’s important, Colonel. I use satellite imagery and hacked phones to catch criminals, but I also hack Brazil’s street IP cameras. My country… collects a lot of foreign data.” Mendeira clapped, unfazed. “Even better! Getting camera server access requires bureaucratic hoops. You bypass that, nabbing real-time criminal data. That’s a win for us.”
Bruno pulled out a file. “Your agency asked about a guy we know well: Dmitry Grekov, a big-shot real estate tycoon in Rio. We’d love to lock him up, but he’s corrupt with powerful connections.” He handed Kang the file. “Strange, though. You’re great at tracking small-time crooks, but you can’t pin this local kingpin?” Kang scratched his head. “…Our agents excel at catching nearby criminals via satellites and cameras. Grekov hops cities, making him hard to track.”
Bruno nodded, satisfied. “Fair enough. No one’s omnipotent, even with top-notch intel. Monitoring everyone would make you a god, not a man, right?” He laughed heartily. Kang forced a bitter smile. Unbeknownst to Bruno, Kang had wires in his brain linked to a North Korean server, theoretically accessing global data. But without Gamagogi’s “God Brain” chip, he couldn’t store or process it all. With the chip, he could’ve tracked humanity’s movements via satellites and uploaded photos in real-time—but he lacked that power.
Bruno studied Kang, lost in thought. “…Your agency says Grekov’s tied to a terrorist from your country, a monster who killed hundreds at once.” Kang scratched his head. “…He killed vicious inmates and guards.” Bruno nodded. “Killing criminals is one thing, but slaughtering innocent guards marks him as dangerous. We hate crooks, but they deserve fair trials. We can’t let a terrorist’s accomplice, who massacred hundreds, roam free here.” He locked eyes with Kang. “…We’ll help you on this.”
…
Dmitry Grekov dug in his ear, flicking wax. “…Someone talking about me? If I had a ‘God Brain’ chip, I’d know what’s up. Shame.” Lounging on a villa sofa, he glanced at Ko A-young and Baek Hyung-jin watching a soap opera on TV. Ko A-young yawned. “Ugh… is this all Brazilian TV has? So boring. I want a God Brain chip—then I could binge Korean dramas in my head.” Baek Hyung-jin shrugged. “With a God Brain, you’d stream every drama, movie, and anime simultaneously. That’d ruin the fun. You’ve had the chip before, A-young.” She scowled. “Wanna die? I told you, it overloaded my brain, and I lost those memories. I only remember Kim Dae-hyun because I met him later.” Baek Hyung-jin patted her hand. After five years together, he spoke to her casually.
Grekov turned to Kalkhan Tirak, standing by the sofa, scanning the room with a pistol behind his back. “…Hey, Tirak, wanna watch the soap?” Tirak didn’t respond. Grekov looked at Baek Hyung-jin. “Yo, what’s with him? Deaf?” Baek shook his head. “…Tirak only speaks Arabic, I think. His real name’s ‘Tariq,’ but Gamamusa changed it. That’s all the info my brain’s circuits pick up. How Gamamusa met him? No clue.” Grekov marveled at them. “…Wild. Just wires and circuits in your heads, and you know my bodyguard better than me? You never learned Russian or Portuguese, yet you speak them. You’re talking Russian with me now!” Ko A-young nodded. “Without a God Brain, we can’t store data, but we can receive it from the server. I’m using an online translator in real-time to understand you.”
Grekov smirked. “…So, you’re just a translator? Hey, translator, talk to Tirak in Arabic. Let’s see what he gets.” Baek Hyung-jin shot Grekov an annoyed look, sighed, and turned to Tirak. “(Arabic) Your name’s… Tirak? How’d you meet Gamamusa?” Kalkhan Tirak glanced at him. “…I’ve never met Gamamusa in person. Only saw him online once.”
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