"A sword is tempered in fire," this phrase was tattooed on the inside of his left forearm along with a web of cybersigilistic symbols. Choi Seong-Jae remembered it like a prayer recited during the darkest moments of his life. Moments that would have been broken by any other.
His childhood was a kaleidoscope of gray shades, war and war. The slums of Seoul, where concrete boxes crammed together as if over a coffin, were his first university. Here he was taught to survive, to be faster, more cunning, more ruthless.
His father, broken by life, an alcoholic, drank away the last of his money, leaving him and his mother hungry. The mother, tired of the endless struggle, Thinks keeps the family afloat by working as a cleaner in wealthy regions. Her hands, riddled with scars from cleaning products, were the only proof of her love.
Son Jae quickly realized: the world is ruled by force. Not money, not morality, it's brute, overt force. He'd seen how the weak were taken from the weak by thugs in recent times, how corrupt police officers turned a blind eye to criminals, how the rich bullied the poor.
His first teacher was a drifter nicknamed Skull. The old fighter, whose face was covered with scars and tattoos, taught Son Jae how to get hand-to-hand fear. The training was brutal, merciless. Skull had beaten him until he had learned to stand on his feet despite the pain.
"Pain is weakness," Skull wheezed, wiping the blood from his shattered knuckles. - Strength is survival.
Son Jae trained to the point of exhaustion, honing his skills, turning his body into a weapon. He ran in the mornings until he could burn fire easily. He did push-ups, squats, and pull-ups until his muscles began to shake with fatigue. He fought other boys, getting bruised and bruised but getting stronger with each battle.
But one day his life changed forever.
He was fourteen when he was kidnapped.
Gangsters working among rich perverts, he was in his teens repairing underground fights. He was ripped from his familiar life, thrown into cages like a wild animal.
There, in the dark and damp, he realized he had seen the face of mild cruelty. He was forced to fight to the death with other teenagers, each fight a struggle for survival.
He remembered the first fighter as if it was yesterday. His opponent was an older guy, with pencils and an evil look in his eyes. Son Jae, unstable and confused, tried to hack, but his punches were too weak.
He was beaten, bones broken, teeth knocked out. But he did not pass on. A fire burned in his eyes, a fire wanting to survive.
That day, Sung-Jae killed his first man. He didn't remember how it happened. He only remembered the rage, the pain, and the desire to escape this hell.
After that, his life became a series of endless fights. He rode with outside opponents, each one stronger and more dangerous. He learned from his mistakes, adapted to each fighting style, and took every opportunity to win.
He became brutal, ruthless, and calculating. He learned to lie, to cheat, to betray. He realized that there was no room for pity and compassion in this world.
Hell-hardening made him the man he was now. A martial artist, a strategist, a manipulator. His mind had become cold and calculating, his body a deadly weapon.
He had broken out of the underground fighting scene after two years, escaping during one of the scuffles. He was free, but his soul was scarred.
He returned to the slums of Seoul, but he was no longer the boy who had been kidnapped. He was a warrior hardened by fire.
He began to build his gang, recruiting those who were as broken and crippled by life as he was. He offered them protection, strength, and a chance to avenge their abusers.
His gang grew rapidly, subjugating more and more territory. He was taking over businesses, running up debts, making his own rules.
He remembered the first time he saw Jichan Kwaku. Jichan was the king of Seoul, the most powerful and influential man in the underworld. Sung-Jae envied him, but at the same time he despised him. He considered him weak, profitable, and incapable of true power.
He decided to overthrow Jichan to take his place. He returned for months, studying him, identifying his weaknesses, planning his move.
When the time came, he was ready. He knew Jichan was strong, but he was confident of his victory. He knew he was better, more cunning and ruthless.
Defeating Jichan was just the beginning. Choi Sung-jae aspired for more. He wants to build his empire, a world where he will be the sole ruler.
Finally, Choi Sung-Jae lit a cigarette, looking at the smoke rising into the dark sky.
"The world belongs significantly," he whispered, remembering Skull's words. And he intends to find a place in Seoul.