Choi San, a revered and feared mafia boss, reigns over Seoul's underworld with an iron fist, his influence extending seamlessly across both legal and illegal domains. But his empire is shaken to its core when his beloved daughter, Eun-ji, is kidnapp...
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.·:*¨¨* ≈ᴊᴜɴɢ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ≈ *¨¨*:·.
The music hummed low through the speakers in my living room, my drink half-forgotten as I sat, trying to shake off the tension from San's visit. I'd had enough of his accusations, his heavy-handed way of assuming everyone was hiding something from him. It was like he saw shadows in every corner, ghosts where there were none. Yet, seeing that photo of Eun-Ji... something in me had shifted, a strange tug I couldn't explain.
I closed my eyes, sinking further into the cushions, trying to block out the mess he'd dragged me into. I'd given him all the information I had. I'd seen a guy, yes, slipping into a black car with bags that seemed suspicious. I'd even bothered to tell San, despite knowing I'd get nothing but more suspicion and thinly veiled threats in return.
Just as I took another sip of my drink, a muffled sound came from outside, low but heavy enough to cut through the music. I straightened, setting the glass down as I listened closely. Heavy footsteps, coming toward the door.
I stood up slowly, every muscle tensing. A glance out the window showed a black car parked on the curb, and four men moving toward my door with a confidence that set every instinct on edge. These weren't friends, and they sure weren't here to talk.
Grabbing the nearest heavy object—a thick glass bottle—I positioned myself beside the door, my breath steady as I heard the faint, metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock. These guys were prepared, skilled. I'd dealt with rough types before, but there was a different kind of intensity in their movements, the kind that came with experience and purpose.
The door swung open, and they stepped inside, moving silently, their eyes scanning the room. I held my position, waiting for the right moment, my grip on the bottle tight.
One of them spotted me, and I didn't hesitate. I swung the bottle with all the force I could muster, the glass shattering on impact against his head. He stumbled back, cursing, while the others sprang into action, closing in on me.
"Looks like you're a little outnumbered, Wooyoung," one of them sneered, advancing as the others fanned out to surround me.
"Yeah?" I spat back, taking a step back, my mind racing as I looked for an out. "I like those odds."
Before they could make another move, a new sound cut through the tension—a hard knock on the half-open door, followed by a calm, familiar voice that somehow made everything worse and better all at once.
"Mind if we join the party?" San's voice rang out, calm but carrying an edge, his silhouette framed in the doorway alongside Hongjoong and Seonghwa.
I stood there, a heavy sigh escaping me, the weight of it sinking into my bones. All eyes were on me—San and his crew by the door, the intruders who had barged in uninvited. One of them stepped forward, sizing me up with a cocky grin that only fueled my irritation. I shot a quick look back at Yeosang and Jongho, who had just entered, their expressions matching mine—ready for a fight.
