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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Two weeks had passed, but it felt like everything had blurred into one long, painful stretch of time. Days and nights no longer mattered. My mind was a mess, filled with anger, regret, and bitterness that I couldn't shake no matter how hard I tried. The Midnight Reapers had shifted, and Seongjun had taken over, reorganizing things, cutting out the dead weight. People who didn't pull their weight or had been part of the problem were removed—efficient, ruthless.
And me? I just went along with it. Silent. Cold. But inside, I was a storm, and sometimes that storm broke loose.
I sat in the corner of the conference room, half-listening as Seongjun issued orders, talking logistics and next moves. My arms were crossed, jaw clenched. My anger simmered just beneath the surface, like an ember waiting for the right gust of wind to set it ablaze. I kept to myself, rarely talking unless it was absolutely necessary. Most of the time, I didn't have the energy for words. They felt useless. Hollow.
Seongjun was good at what he did, no question. He was calm, composed—everything I wasn't. And I hated it. I hated how much control he had over everything when I felt like I was constantly losing control of myself.
I should've been better. I should've been the one holding it together, but instead, my anger took over half the time. I lashed out during missions, taking down enemies with a little too much force, with a little too much satisfaction. It wasn't about the job anymore. It was about releasing the rage that burned inside me, about letting it out before it consumed me completely. And Seongjun? He didn't stop me. He watched, but he never said a word. Maybe he knew I needed it, or maybe he just didn't care.
I wasn't sure I cared either.
I stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes narrowing at the team gathered in front of me. I felt like I was in a bubble, separated from them all by the weight of everything I was carrying. The air in the room felt too heavy, suffocating, like it was pressing down on me, and all I wanted was to explode, to let it all out.
But I couldn't. Not yet. Not when Seongjun was right there, watching. Not when everyone else was waiting to see how I'd react.
"Wooyoung," Seongjun said suddenly, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he knew I was on the verge of losing it. "We're moving forward. Focus on the mission."
I gritted my teeth and nodded, not trusting myself to say anything. He made it sound so simple, so easy. Focus on the mission. Like that could erase everything else—erase the anger, the betrayal, the hurt. Like it could somehow make everything normal again.
But it wouldn't. Not for me.
Most of the Midnight Reapers had gotten used to my silence by now. I'd catch their glances sometimes, the way they looked at me like they were waiting for the old Wooyoung to come back—the one who joked around, who had their backs no matter what. But that version of me was long gone. And I wasn't sure if he was ever coming back.
