The wind howled at 80 stories above the ground, trying to rip Min-jun from his grappling line. He didn't care. He check-adjusted his tie and tucked the dragon credit card deeper into his breast pocket. To Old Man Kang, this wasn't an infiltration; it was just a "laundry delivery" with an advanced obstacle course.
The AgustaWestland helicopter began to lift off the Aegis helipad, its powerful rotor wash creating a miniature storm.
If I miss, Min-jun thought, this Italian suit is going to become a sidewalk fresco.
He timed the swing. At the apex, he unclipped and threw himself forward, landing on the chopper's skid with a loud thump. He grabbed the landing gear, his new "Kang Grip" locking tight. The helicopter surged upward, the city tilting beneath him in a terrifying mosaic of neon.
Min-jun didn't waste time. He pulled a specialized, reinforced garment bag from his back—the same one that contained the CEO's newly dry-cleaned silk shirt—and swung it like a lasso. The bag's reinforced strap looped around the tail rotor shaft.
Hiss.
The custom fabric (the 'Rinse-N-Repeat' composite, guaranteed to remove blood and stabilize flight) tightened, instantly slowing the rotor. The helicopter gave a violent shudder and began to lose altitude, its alarms screaming through the open door.
"What is happening!" CEO Park shrieked from inside the cabin, clutching a locked metal briefcase to his chest. He looked out and locked eyes with the man clinging to the skid.
Min-jun smiled, the wind tearing at his hair. "I'm here to collect the dry-cleaning bill! And you forgot to tip!"