Dawn had just broken. A light drizzle fell over the streets, and the gray sky seemed to hold countless secrets yet to be revealed. In an abandoned port area, Jung Kok's footsteps echoed between rusted shipping containers.
He had received an anonymous message late last night — only coordinates and a single line: "Come alone."
Kim had warned him not to go. Hwang said nothing, only gave a small nod — as if giving silent permission. Jung Kok knew this wasn't a trap. It was a necessary meeting.
The port was eerily quiet and heavy with tension. Every sound, every shadow, felt like it was watching. Jung Kok brought no weapons. He didn't come to fight. But his heart was ready for anything.
From a distance, three figures slowly emerged. Older men, but clearly still dangerous. One of them wore an old leather coat, a large scar running across his face. He was the first to speak.
"Son of Han Jung," he said, his voice deep and heavy. "Or should we call you Jung Kok?"
Jung Kok stood tall. "Who are you?"
"We… are your father's past. We once fought beside him. We ruled the dark alleys of Seoul together. But he left us — for a woman, for his children, for a softer world."
The second man, with narrow eyes and a thick beard, added, "We're not here for revenge. We know who you are. We've watched from afar. You're strong. But too soft — just like him… in the end."
Jung Kok frowned. "If you're not here to fight, why summon me?"
Their leader, the scarred man, stepped closer. "Because the gangster world isn't made for those who hesitate. You want to turn everything into 'protectors'? You think enemies will care?"
Jung Kok replied, eyes steady, "I don't hesitate. But I won't repeat the cruelty you all committed. The world has changed. If power isn't used to protect the weak, then we're nothing more than animals."
Silence fell for a moment.
Then, the third man, who had remained silent until now, spoke. His voice was low, filled with something deeper. "Jung Kok… we didn't come to scare you. But to warn you. When you start changing the system, enemies won't always come from outside. They'll rise from within. The people you trust… will be the first knives in your back."
They all looked at Jung Kok — sharp gazes, but not hostile.
"Don't become like your father," said the scarred man. "He stopped halfway. He lost control. If you want to change the gangster world, you need to be smarter than him — and tougher, if you must."
They began to fade into the harbor mist.
"We'll be watching. Don't dishonor the name Han Jung."
And then they were gone.
Jung Kok stood alone, the drizzle soaking his shoulders. His heart was uneasy — not from the threat — but because something they said rang true: the most dangerous enemies are the ones inside.
He began walking back toward his motorbike parked nearby. As he started the engine and sped off toward the main road, his mind was filled with a single question: Who among my father's people is secretly against me?
---
At home, Hwang sat in his study, staring at an old photograph in his hands — a picture of himself with the three men Jung Kok had just met. Their faces were still clear in his memory.
"You met them, didn't you?" Hwang spoke before Jung Kok could say a word.
"You knew they were coming?"
"They never really left," Hwang replied, setting the photo down. "They were just waiting for the right time to reappear. And they chose you, not me. That means something is about to change."
"You're not angry I met with them?"
"No. I hope you listened to their warning. Because I can't protect everything anymore. But I will protect you… as long as I'm still breathing."
Jung Kok stayed silent. He sat across from his father, his expression serious.
"Father… if I want to do things my own way, but still carry our family's name — will you allow it?"
Hwang met his son's eyes, holding his gaze for a long moment before replying, "You're my son. If you fall, my name falls with you. If you rise, let the world know — the blood of Han Jung still runs in your veins. I won't stop you. But know this — the world won't give you victory without sacrifice."
Jung Kok nodded slowly. "I'm ready."
---
But within the shadows of that grand house, another conversation was unfolding. Jung Joon, Jung Kok's older brother, stood on the upstairs balcony, watching through the curtain.
He saw his younger brother talking with their father — his expression calm but filled with determination. Jung Joon let out a quiet sigh.
"He's starting to earn Father's full trust…" he whispered.
In Jung Joon's hand was a phone containing an old message deleted from the system — the very same one Jung Kok received last night. His eyes stared blankly out the window, but in his mind, a storm was already brewing.
"If he changes everything… what will I become?"
Since childhood, Jung Joon had always silently followed in their father's footsteps. He wasn't as active or sharp as Jung Kok in strategy, but he knew the ins and outs of the old gangster world. Many respected him for his name — but few believed in him the way they did in Jung Kok.
Jung Joon had begun hearing whispers from some of Hwang's old lieutenants. They planted seeds of doubt in him, portraying their father's decisions as weakness, and Jung Kok's actions as a threat to the "true legacy."
"Your brother wants to erase everything," one of them said.
"He'll turn us into security guards, not rulers."
"He wants to turn blood into water."
Jung Joon said nothing, but in his silence, his heart began to shift. And he started making his own moves. Slowly, he gathered those uneasy with the new direction — not to oppose openly, but to build an alternative. A shadow force.
And that night, while the world slept, Jung Joon stared into the mirror in his room, whispering to himself:
"If this world belongs to the strong… then I will become stronger. Not him."
Outside the window, lightning cracked across the sky, breaking the silence. In the shadows of the Han Jung household, the real conflict began — not between enemies and allies, but between two brothers.
And their battle… had only just begun.