Jacob sat in the dimly lit VVIP hospital room, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his mother's chest as she slept peacefully. For the first time in what felt like years, he saw her at peace, free from the pain that had haunted her for so long. The surgery had been successful, a weight lifted off both their shoulders, and now she was on the path to recovery. He could barely believe it.
As he glanced at the golden card resting in his palm, his thoughts drifted back to the moment he had first held it. The immense significance of it—something so small, yet so powerful—meant the world to him now. It wasn't just about money. It was about what that money represented: care, brotherhood, and, most importantly, Toji's acknowledgment. Toji, the man he respected more than anyone else in his life, had done this for him.
Jacob thought back to his conversation with Jinyoung when he had gathered the courage to ask for help.
A few days earlier:
Jacob had hesitated before knocking on Jinyoung's door. As the second-in-command of the Division, Jinyoung always had an air of calm control about him, a man whose strategic mind never rested. Jacob respected him, but today was different. Today, Jacob felt the weight of his pride pressing down on his chest as he prepared to ask for help.
When Jinyoung opened the door, his eyes immediately sharpened, recognizing the seriousness in Jacob's expression.
"Jacob? What's going on?" Jinyoung asked, stepping aside to let him in.
Jacob had never been one to openly ask for favors, especially not from the Division. He had made a name for himself as someone who handled things on his own. But this time, things were different. His mother's health had taken a drastic turn, and the money he'd saved up from small jobs here and there wasn't nearly enough to cover the life-saving surgery she needed.
"My mother…" Jacob began, struggling to keep his voice steady. "She's really sick. I don't know how much longer she has without surgery. I've been trying to take care of things myself, but… it's not enough. I need help."
Jinyoung had listened without interruption, his sharp mind no doubt working through the problem even as Jacob spoke. There was no judgment in his eyes, only a slight furrowing of his brow as he considered the situation.
"And you're asking for the Division's help?" Jinyoung asked, clarifying.
Jacob nodded, feeling the weight of his request even more now that he had voiced it out loud. "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate, Jinyoung. I'll pay it back. Every cent."
For a moment, Jinyoung remained silent, his gaze focused on Jacob as though calculating something far beyond the request itself. Then, to Jacob's surprise, Jinyoung's expression softened.
"Toji's already taken care of it."
Jacob blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Toji knows about your situation," Jinyoung explained. "He's already decided to help. Your mother is his mother, too, as far as he's concerned. It's what family does."
Jacob had been stunned. Toji had always been a powerful and distant figure to him, someone who led the Division with an iron fist, never showing much emotion beyond anger or amusement in the chaos. But this? This was different.
Jinyoung handed him the golden card then, the key to everything his mother needed. "This is from Toji. He wants you to use it for whatever your mother needs—her surgery, her recovery, everything. He's also arranged a new house for her, and a car to make things easier. If you ever need anything else, just call No. 3. The Division is your home, Jacob."
Jacob had taken the card with trembling hands, overwhelmed by the gesture. For someone like Toji to care enough about him to do all of this without even being asked—it was more than he had ever expected. And from that moment on, Jacob made a silent vow to repay that kindness, no matter what it took.
Now, sitting in the hospital room, the card still warm in his hands, Jacob felt the depth of that promise settle in his heart. He owed Toji everything. His mother's life, his own peace of mind—he would never forget what Toji had done. The man who had led him through the darkest parts of his life was more than just a leader to Jacob now. He was family.
Jacob leaned forward, brushing a lock of hair from his mother's forehead. Her once-pained expression was now soft, peaceful. He thought about all the sacrifices she had made for him, working herself to the bone despite her failing health. And now, thanks to Toji, he could finally give her something back.
His mind raced through the possibilities. He would dedicate himself fully to the Division, to Toji. He had always been loyal, but now he was bound by more than just allegiance. He was bound by gratitude and a deep sense of obligation. He would be Toji's most reliable ally, his most loyal soldier. Whatever Toji needed, Jacob would be there to provide.
As the hours passed and the hospital lights dimmed, Jacob's thoughts were filled with plans for the future. His loyalty to Toji and the Division would be unwavering. He would prove his worth, not just as a thug or a fighter, but as someone who truly understood what it meant to belong to something bigger than himself.
Jacob's phone buzzed quietly in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw a message from Jinyoung:
"How's your mother?"
Jacob smiled slightly, typing back a quick reply: "She's doing well. Thanks to Toji. I owe him everything."
Jinyoung's response came almost instantly: "Good. Stay focused. Toji expects great things from you."
Jacob locked his phone, slipping it back into his pocket as he stood and stretched his stiff muscles. He approached the window, looking out at the city lights of Seoul, a city that had once seemed so cruel and unforgiving. But now, it felt different. Now, he had a purpose. Now, he had a reason to keep fighting, and someone to fight for.
He glanced back at his mother, still sleeping peacefully.
"I'll make you proud, Mom," Jacob whispered, his resolve hardening. "And I'll make Toji proud too. I owe him my life."
With one last look at the golden card, Jacob clenched it tightly in his fist. This was just the beginning. He would pay back the debt he owed to Toji with his loyalty, his strength, and his life if necessary. Whatever Toji needed, he would give.
And from this moment on, Jacob's life was no longer his own. It belonged to Toji, to the Division, and to the brotherhood that had saved his mother's life.
But reality was something else,
"Toji," Jinyoung had said, leaning against the doorframe of Toji's office, "about Jacob's situation. His mother's health is getting worse. She needs surgery, and he doesn't have the money to cover it. I was thinking we could—"
But Toji wasn't really listening. He was lounging in his chair, his feet up on the desk, his focus entirely on his phone. He was texting Miss Lin, the woman who occupied much of his thoughts these days. Jinyoung had learned to read Toji's moods, and right now, Toji was only half in the room.
"Yeah, yeah. Do it. Whatever," Toji mumbled, waving a hand dismissively without even looking up from his phone. He was far more interested in his conversation with Miss Lin than anything related to the Division's internal affairs. Toji trusted Jinyoung to handle things, and in this case, he was perfectly happy to let him take charge.
Jinyoung, however, interpreted Toji's response differently. To him, it sounded like Toji was giving his full approval. After all, Toji had said yes, hadn't he? In Jinyoung's mind, Toji cared about Jacob's situation and wanted to help in his own way, even if he didn't express it openly. That was just how Toji operated—distant, but still loyal to his people.
So, Jinyoung had arranged everything. He used the Division's funds to cover the surgery, arranged for a luxury car to take Jacob's mother to the hospital, and even set up a new house in Ms. Mary's name. The golden card he gave to Jacob was supposed to symbolize Toji's care and leadership, a token that showed Toji valued Jacob as a member of the Division.
In truth, though, if Toji had been aware of the full extent of what Jinyoung had done, he wouldn't have cared. Toji wasn't the type to be sentimental or involved in the personal lives of his underlings. He valued power, control, and results. The personal struggles of the Division members were not something that held much importance to him.
But Jinyoung, ever the strategist, had misunderstood Toji's offhand approval. He believed that this was all part of a larger, unspoken bond that Toji had with his men. Toji didn't need to say much; he showed his care through actions, or so Jinyoung thought.
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Meanwhile, at the Division headquarters:
Toji leaned back in his chair, staring out the window as the sun set over the city. He hadn't thought about Jacob in days. If anything, his mind was occupied with more immediate concerns—the next fight, the next deal, and whatever chaos tomorrow would bring. He smirked to himself, thinking about how easily things fell into place when you had power.
In Toji's world, loyalty wasn't built through acts of kindness or emotional bonds. It was built through strength, fear, and control. And as long as the Division continued to dominate, that was all he cared about.
Jinyoung entered the room, glancing at Toji with his usual calm demeanor.
"Jacob's mother's surgery was a success," Jinyoung said, his tone neutral.
Toji barely reacted. "Good for him," he muttered, barely looking up.
Jinyoung gave a small nod, his suspicions about Toji's caring nature seemingly confirmed. He thought Toji was just being his usual stoic self, hiding his true emotions beneath his cold exterior. But in reality, Toji's lack of interest was genuine.
And so, the misunderstanding continued. Jacob, pledging his life to Toji, believed in a bond that didn't exist. And Toji, indifferent to Jacob's loyalty, remained unaware of the devotion he had unwittingly inspired