Whispers of the Underworld (SunSun)

chapter 11

August 7th, 2024

The words of Kim Minhan echoed in my mind long after I left the hallway.

"You think Heeseung and Jake will always protect you?"

I had scoffed at the time, throwing his empty threats back in his face, but now, as I sat in my private office, the weight of his words pressed down on me. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, thoughts spiraling.

Despite everything I had built, despite the power I had collected in the past few years, there was an undeniable truth that gnawed at me.

Jake and Heeseung wouldn't be able to protect me forever. Not here. Not in South Korea.

When I had first left, I was nothing. Weak. Pathetic. A dumb little omega who thought he could get by on his family name alone. I had been naive, blind to how the world truly worked. But overseas... that had been my rebirth. I spent years in the shadows of New York, Rome, Berlin, Sydney, pulling strings, forging connections, amassing power in ways most people could only dream of. I didn't just survive - I thrived. I carved a place for myself in worlds that didn't care if I was an omega or a king. And now, I was untouchable.

But here? South Korea was a different game. The mafia families here didn't play by the same rules. Here, I was still vulnerable. And the truth was, Jake and Heeseung's protection only went so far. Minhan was right about that much. If I stayed under their shadow, if I relied on them too much, I would eventually put them in danger - and myself as well.

I needed more. More allies. More power. Someone who could give me whatever I needed, someone who could tip the scales in my favor among these families.

But who?

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. One of my men stepped in, his face grim. "Boss," he said, his voice low. "Kim Minhan's right hand... he's ready to talk."

A slow, dark smile spread across my face. "Is that so?" I stood, smoothing down my jacket as I headed for the door. "Let's not keep him waiting."

The basement was dimly lit, the air cold and heavy with the metallic scent of blood. I made my way down the stairs, my footsteps echoing in the stillness. The room had been designed specifically for situations like this - no windows, no way out except for the reinforced door behind me.

And there, slumped against the wall, was the man I had spent hours breaking the night before. He has been in here for almost a week now.

Kim Minhan's right hand.

His breathing was ragged, shallow. His body was a mess - bruises bloomed across his skin, his limbs twisted unnaturally from where I had shattered bones. Blood had dried in streaks across his face and torso, but some wounds were still fresh, oozing sluggishly as his body struggled to heal. His eyes, bloodshot and swollen, tracked me as I entered the room, filled with hate and fear.

I smiled down at him, tilting my head as I crouched in front of him, taking in the full extent of the damage I had inflicted. "Oh," I said softly, my voice mockingly gentle. "You're already giving up?" I tutted, clicking my tongue against my teeth. "I thought we'd have some more fun today."

The man spat weakly, his voice hoarse. "Go to hell."

I chuckled, straightening up as I looked down at him. "I guess I was right, then," I mused aloud. "You don't have much left in you, do you?" My smile widened as I leaned in close, lowering my voice. "Shall we have some fun anyway? I think your dear boss would appreciate receiving your limbs in a box."

He recoiled at the suggestion, but he was too broken to do anything about it. His fear was palpable, radiating off him in waves, and I reveled in it. Fear was such a delicious tool.