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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We'd barely stepped inside the arena when the atmosphere hit me, thick and suffocating, with an intensity that made every nerve in my body tighten. San led us in through a discreet back entrance, his hand resting on the small of my back until we reached the edge of the ring. With a quick gesture, he pointed to a spot near the front, indicating where I should wait, his expression unyielding.
I could feel my palms sweating as I moved to the edge of the ring, rubbing my hands together to chase away the anxiety building inside. Thousands of people filled the darkened arena, all dressed in black, their faces hidden behind dark glasses, an unsettling uniformity to them. Muscular men and women with hardened expressions clung to each other, moving in tightly-knit groups, whispering to each other with knowing looks. The sheer volume of people, the intense hush in the air, and the unyielding stares made my stomach twist with a mix of unease and excitement.
My gaze fell to the mat in the center of the ring, where a fresh stain of blood had seeped into the fabric, dark and raw, a grim reminder of whatever had happened before we arrived. Nearby, a large knife lay abandoned, its blade coated in a thick layer of blood. I swallowed hard, feeling a chill crawl up my spine, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to steady myself. This was a world San had kept me separate from, a side of him that he'd shielded from me until now, and it took everything in me to hold my ground, to not let the intensity of the atmosphere swallow me whole.
I looked over to where San was now speaking with someone—a large, intimidating man with scars along his jawline. They exchanged a few quick words, and the man gave San a nod, as if acknowledging some unspoken agreement. I could tell from the man's wary respect that he knew exactly who San was and that he understood the weight of the reputation that followed him.
My stomach turned again as I realized that, in moments, San would step into that blood-stained ring, shedding the protective, controlled version of himself I knew and allowing the ruthless side to emerge. The part he didn't want me to see, the part he'd kept hidden to protect me.
I bit my lip, grounding myself as I focused on him, watching the way he moved, every step a perfect balance of calculated strength and calm control. He was no longer just mine in this moment; he was someone powerful, dangerous—a force to be reckoned with.
Taking a steadying breath, I sank down into the seat at the edge of the ring, my gaze never leaving him, digging my nails into my palm to keep myself steady. Whatever was about to happen, I'd bear witness to it. Today, I'd see the real San—the one he'd tried to protect me from. And despite the tension, the lingering fear, I knew one thing: I wouldn't look away.
The lights in the arena dimmed, casting an ominous shadow over the ring as the crowd grew quiet, their whispers replaced by a tense anticipation that settled like a thick fog. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as I watched San step up to the edge of the ring, his face blank yet determined, his gaze locked onto his opponent across from him—a massive, hulking figure with scars that spoke of brutal experience.
