Minjae Choi had always been the wild one. His grades were average at best, his behavior erratic. While other students in his class quietly took notes, he was the one disrupting the lesson, either with a joke, a dare, or a drawn-out sigh of indifference. He never meant to be a troublemaker—it was just who he was. But no one understood that, least of all his new family.
It had been two years since Minjae was adopted by Jihoon Kim's family. Back then, he'd been full of hope, eager to find stability in a home that had eluded him for years. Jihoon, his younger stepbrother, had welcomed him with open arms. They spent hours playing video games, walking to school together, and sharing moments of quiet companionship. For the first time in Minjae's life, he felt like he belonged. He had someone who truly cared for him, someone who saw him for more than just the troubled kid he had been in the orphanage.
But as much as he wanted to be the older brother Jihoon looked up to, Minjae couldn't escape his past. His reckless behavior followed him everywhere. And as Jihoon flourished in school—becoming the model student their father always hoped for—Minjae fell further behind.
The turning point came in the spring of their final year in primary school. Minjae had failed his exams. Not just once, but twice. And as his parents' anger began to boil over, so did his frustration. He had tried. He had really tried, but it felt like no matter how hard he studied, the grades just didn't come. Every time he opened a book, his mind wandered. Every time he looked at the test papers, the pressure crushed him. And the harder he tried, the worse it seemed to get.
That evening, when their father stormed into his room, demanding answers, Minjae snapped. "I don't care about your stupid grades!" he shouted, throwing his textbooks against the wall. "I'm not like Jihoon! I'm not perfect!"
His father's face went pale with rage, his fist slamming down on the desk. "You don't deserve this family!" he yelled. "You think you can mess everything up and still have us treat you like you're special? I've had enough of your excuses, Minjae! Maybe it's time for you to leave."
Minjae's heart shattered in an instant, but it wasn't just his father's anger that cut deep—it was the look on Jihoon's face. Standing by the door, frozen, Jihoon's eyes were filled with a mixture of disappointment and confusion. Minjae's own little brother—who had been his closest ally—was now witnessing his breakdown.
In that moment, Minjae knew what he had done. He had become a burden to his family, a shadow that made their lives harder. He could see it in Jihoon's eyes. His brother, the one who had always believed in him, was starting to doubt him.
Jihoon didn't say a word. He simply turned away and walked out of the room.
That was the moment Minjae realized the price of his actions. His family—his home—was slipping away. He felt the sting of betrayal as their father's words echoed in his mind: "Maybe it's time for you to leave."
That night, Minjae packed his things. His decision was impulsive, fueled by anger and hurt, but deep down, he knew it was the only way to escape the suffocating shame. He couldn't stay and face them—couldn't look Jihoon in the eye after everything he had done. He left a note on the kitchen table, barely legible through his tears, and walked out into the night.
The door closed behind him with a finality that he could never undo. He had no idea where he was going. No idea what would come next. But he couldn't stay in that house, not knowing he had ruined everything.
Minjae thought of Jihoon one last time before he vanished into the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, his younger brother would one day understand why he had to leave.
Ten years had passed since Minjae walked out that door. Ten long years. The world had changed, but for him, the transformation was far more brutal. The boy who had once been a lost soul, rejected by his own family, was now a man who commanded respect—and fear.
At 23, Minjae Choi had become one of the most feared gang leaders in Seoul. His name was whispered in dark corners of the city, his reputation stretching from the underworld to the wealthy districts, where men in sharp suits paid him handsomely for protection. He was the one they called when rival gangs needed to be silenced or when someone was in need of "protection" from threats they couldn't handle on their own. He wasn't just a thug; he was a businessman, cold and calculating, making fortunes by manipulating those who underestimated him.
His rise had been swift and brutal. He had cut through the competition with ruthless precision, bending others to his will with a combination of force and charm. He had grown into his new identity, one that was far removed from the naive young boy who had once crumbled under his father's wrath. The past was nothing but a distant, painful memory that he buried beneath layers of money, power, and fear.
In the years since he'd left, Minjae had adopted a new look, one that signified his break from the person he had once been. His hair was now stark white—an unnatural, almost ghostly color that seemed to symbolize his detachment from everything that had once defined him. It was a constant reminder, not just to others, but to himself, that Minjae Choi was no longer that boy. His past had been wiped clean, replaced by the intimidating presence he had become.
Though his sharp, handsome features still carried the weight of his youth, there was a hardness to his expression now—a coldness that left people uneasy. His eyes, once filled with the fire of a hopeful teenager, were now like two dark pools that seemed to stare right through people. His face was often set in a smirk, as if he found amusement in the chaos he controlled.
Tonight, Minjae stood at the center of his empire. His black tuxedo gleamed under the club's dim lights, the cigarette dangling casually from his lips as he leaned against the polished bar. The room around him buzzed with activity—loud music, laughter, the clinking of glasses—but to Minjae, it all felt distant, as if he was observing from behind a glass wall.
His men, loyal to a fault, moved around him like shadows, always attentive, always ready to do his bidding. They bowed their heads when they passed him, their respect for him almost palpable. He was a leader, a king in this underworld, and they treated him as such. But none of them dared to come too close, for Minjae kept them at arm's length—keeping them in check with a mix of dominance and silence.
Despite his power, his wealth, his success, Minjae's personal life remained barren. Women flocked to him, of course, drawn to his good looks and intimidating aura. But he was untouchable. No one could get past the wall he had built around himself, not even the most beautiful women who tried to seduce him with smiles and flirtations. They tried, but Minjae only ever regarded them with a disinterested glance, like they were a part of the scenery he could easily ignore.
Deep down, however, the emptiness gnawed at him. It wasn't the wealth or the power that he truly desired. It was something else—a sense of belonging, a connection that had long since been severed. He often found himself lost in fleeting thoughts of the past—of the family he had abandoned, of his little brother Jihoon, the one person who had truly cared for him.
But those memories were painful, and so Minjae buried them deeper, his white hair a constant reminder to himself to never look back. His new life was all that mattered. The past, and the boy he once was, were buried beneath layers of arrogance, anger, and carefully cultivated indifference.
As he surveyed the room, Minjae's smirk widened slightly, knowing that every eye in the room was on him. He was a force to be reckoned with. His empire was growing, and no one—not the law, not the other gangs—could touch him. He was untouchable.
But somewhere deep within him, a small, almost imperceptible voice whispered: What if I could go back? What if I could undo everything?
He shoved the thought aside. There was no going back.
And then, as if summoned by that very thought, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
The name that flashed on the screen was one he hadn't seen in years.
Jihoon Kim
Minjae's hand froze, his smirk fading just for a moment. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the name, his heart beating just a little faster than usual. Without thinking, he answered the call, his voice low and controlled.
"Jihoon...I found you my little brother~"
There was a pause on the other end of the line, a moment where the world seemed to hold its breath. Then Jihoon's voice came through, shock and shaky.
"M-Minjae?..... "