The city was silent.
The rain poured relentlessly, washing over the blood-soaked streets, but it could not erase the sins committed here. Lightning flashed, revealing bodies strewn across the ground, their eyes frozen in terror.
A line of black cars rolled to a stop at the center of the carnage.
From the first car, a man stepped out.
Tall. Commanding.
His black hair clung to his forehead, strands brushing against the scar that marked his right temple. His black eyes gleamed under the dim streetlights, cold and unreadable. He wore a red formal shirt and black pants, the rain making the fabric cling to his muscular frame. A tattoo curled over his left chest, peeking from beneath his soaked shirt—a symbol of power, of warning.
Hyun-Jin.
The moment he arrived, the screams inside the warehouse grew louder. They knew.
Behind him, a hundred men stood in perfect formation, their eyes locked on their leader, awaiting his command. They were more than soldiers. More than gangsters. They were his.
Hyun-Jin exhaled slowly. "No survivors."
His men moved without hesitation.
The warehouse doors burst open, revealing a group of men bound and cowering. They had once worked under him. They had once been trusted. But greed had poisoned their loyalty.
Now, they would pay the price.
Hyun-Jin stepped forward, the sound of his boots echoing through the room. The smell of fear mixed with the metallic scent of blood.
One of the traitors sobbed. "P-please… we made a mistake—"
Hyun-Jin tilted his head. His expression didn't change.
A mistake?
They had stolen from him. Betrayed him. Sold information to his enemies, putting his men at risk.
A mistake wouldn't have nearly cost him his empire.
"You knew the rules," Hyun-Jin said, voice calm. "And now, you face the consequences."
Lightning flashed.
The blade in his hand gleamed.
Then, blood sprayed across the walls.
One by one, the traitors fell—heads rolling, bodies crumpling, their screams fading into nothingness. His men moved swiftly, ensuring there was no escape.
Hyun-Jin wiped the blood from his blade with a slow, deliberate motion.
Justice had been served.
Outside, the rain continued to fall, mixing with the rivers of crimson pooling at his feet. He stepped back onto the street, his shirt drenched in blood and water, his men standing behind him in perfect silence.
And then—
Something unearthly stirred in the air.
Hyun-Jin's sharp gaze lifted.
At the far end of the street, where the rain should have touched everything, one figure remained untouched.
A man stood beneath the flickering streetlights, his presence almost surreal.
His long, silky purple hair cascaded down his back, swaying slightly despite the stillness of the wind. Porcelain-white skin glowed under the city lights, ethereal and flawless. His red lips curled into a soft, knowing smile, as if he had been waiting for this very moment.
He was beautiful. Too beautiful for this world.
The rain poured, the scent of blood thick in the air, yet this man stood as if he existed beyond such things—as if the world itself dared not touch him.
Hyun-Jin had faced countless men, had carved fear into the hearts of those who betrayed him.
But standing before this stranger, for the first time in his life, something deep within him stirred—something foreign, something dangerously intoxicating.
And in that moment, as their eyes met, the storm around them seemed to fade into silence.