Whispers of the Underworld (SunSun)

Chapter 12

The night clung to me like a second skin, the cold air biting as I walked toward the abandoned facility alone. The world was unnaturally silent, the moon casting a pale glow over everything, indifferent to the violence simmering beneath the surface. My footsteps were the only sound, echoing through the empty streets as I drew closer to what should have been a meeting point—a place where I’d find answers, leverage, and power.

Power. The word alone had been enough to drive me for so long. But was it still enough?

I stuffed my hands deeper into my pockets, feeling the weight of the gun holstered under my jacket. It was a familiar comfort, a reminder that I was never defenseless, never weak. But there was something about tonight—about this silence—that made me feel unsettled.

I had come back from the U.S. with more power than anyone could have imagined. I’d been to the darkest corners of the world, fought my way out of impossible situations, and made allies in places where the mere mention of my name would send men to their knees. Italy, Germany, Australia—I had conquered them all in my own way, bending powerful people to my will. I had left South Korea as someone weak, pathetic, unable to protect myself. I came back… as someone else.

But here, in the familiar streets of Seoul, that power felt fragile. Like it could be taken from me at any moment. The Kims knew how to play the game better than anyone, and my revenge—my hunger for Jinyun—was painting a target on my back. They would come for me. I knew that. And if I didn’t find more allies, the power I had fought so hard for would mean nothing.

I needed more than just overseas connections. I needed someone from within these families, someone who could give me whatever I needed, no questions asked.

I shook the thoughts from my mind as the facility that Minhan’s man talked about came into view, looming in the distance like a monument to failure. My two men were supposed to be stationed here, waiting for me. Instead, the place was quiet. Too quiet.

As I approached the entrance, I saw them—my men. Their bodies lay crumpled, discarded like trash. Blood pooled beneath them, staining the concrete, their faces frozen in expressions of pain and terror. A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down, burying the emotions under the familiar wave of rage that began to boil inside me.

My chest tightened, fists clenching at my sides. These men had been loyal to me, and now they were dead. It was a message, clear and unmistakable. Someone wanted to remind me of how vulnerable I really was.

I yanked my phone from my pocket, dialing my lieutenant with a trembling hand. The moment he picked up, I didn’t bother with greetings.

“Kill him,” I spat, my voice cold and sharp. “Send his head to Kim Minhan’s door.”

There was silence on the other end, but I didn’t care. I hung up without waiting for a response. Minhan’s right-hand man would die, and I would make sure his death was slow, painful. I would make them all pay. Every last one of them.

The sound of footsteps behind me pulled me from my thoughts. I spun around, already on edge, and my eyes landed on the one person I least expected.

Park Sunghoon.

He approached with that familiar smug expression, his lips curling into a smile that made my blood boil. He looked too comfortable, too at ease, considering the situation.

“What are you doing here?” I snapped, stepping forward, barely keeping my voice in check. I was already close to the edge, and Sunghoon's presence wasn’t helping.

He stopped a few feet away, taking his time to glance at the dead bodies, his smile never wavering. “This place…” he drawled, his tone lazy, almost mocking. “This place is mine.”