Ring, ring.
A convoy wound through the mountains toward the foot of the range when the phone of the white-haired old man's trusted subordinate suddenly rang.
"Boss, it's for you."
After answering, the subordinate handed over the phone. "Unknown caller."
"Yes?"
The white-haired old man paused, but still took the phone and spoke in a low voice.
"I heard you're looking for me."
A somewhat mechanical male voice came from the other end.
"If you're that butcher!"
The white-haired old man narrowed his eyes. "Then yes! I'll find you, no matter what! I'll get justice for my son and the others!"
"Butcher?"
A snicker came from the other end. "A group that has done every evil under the sun has the nerve to call someone else a butcher and demand justice! There were hundreds, thousands of women you kidnapped, trafficked, humiliated, controlled, and murdered. What about their justice?"
"I don't care what they did!"
The white-haired old man sneered. "I only know that I'll never see my son's face again or hear his voice again! And all of this is because of you. So I'll definitely find you! Then I'll make you watch everyone you care about suffer endless pain! You think those women were pitiful? Believe me, that was already paradise!"
"I believe you."
The mechanical male voice paused, then sighed. "You're right. Why bother with all that nonsense? You only know that I killed your son. And I only know that you people have committed every evil imaginable. Since that's the case, the only thing I can do is compromise."
"...Compromise?"
The white-haired old man froze.
He had expected the other party to be mysterious and powerful, with an unyielding attitude, someone who would fight to the bitter end. He had never expected to hear the word "compromise."