The Drift's Hideout – South Pier, Busan
It smelled like diesel, wet rope, and blood that never dried.
The room was quiet but heavy with tension. Geon Hak stood in the center, staring at a stack of old crew photos nailed to a warped corkboard. Some were faded. Others had blood on them. One had Jinho's face, now crossed out in red tape.
Jinho sat in the corner, bandaged and silent. His eyes didn't meet Geon Hak's.
"He spared you," Geon Hak said, his voice cold. "He didn't even need to finish it. He made you a message."
No response.
Geon Hak turned back to the others. The Drift's lieutenants flanked him—half of them fresh from street-level scuffles, the other half still clinging to memories of better days.
"This is how it starts. The name spreads. Then people stop flinching when we walk in."
One of the older members, Dongha, spoke. "The Dockmaster—Gilwoo-hyung—he wouldn't want this."
Geon Hak's face didn't change. "Gilwoo's gone quiet. If he wanted to stop me, he'd have shown up. Instead, he's letting me bleed this crew dry."
No one dared speak.
"I'm not waiting for ghosts." Geon Hak's voice cut through them like a blade. "We do this my way."
He snapped his fingers.
From the shadows emerged a man with tattoos curling up his neck like smoke. Hyeon Do.
Eyes like knives. Scar over one cheek. Knuckle dusters already on his hands.
"Some of you know him. Some of you should fear him."
Geon Hak grinned.
"He's the bullet. I just need someone to pull the trigger."
Jinho finally spoke, voice gravelly. "And what if he misses?"
Geon Hak turned slowly. "Then I'll put you back in the ring. And this time, you don't walk out."
East Busan – Cyber Café
The monitors buzzed quietly. Hara sat back, watching the looping footage of Eli's fight with Jinho. Not the punch. Not the knee.
The smile.
Right after the fight ended, Eli had looked into someone's phone camera. And smiled.
"He knew," she muttered.
A message pinged her desktop.
S.R.: The Drift's moving tonight. Dockside Gym. 9 PM. Trap.
She stared.
Not a warning. Not a suggestion.
A test.
She closed the window and shut her laptop.
"You think you're writing history," she said softly. "But some stories burn the readers, too."
She stood up, left the café, and disappeared into the rain.
Samuel Ryu – Rooftop, Three Blocks East
Binoculars in one hand. Phone in the other. Dressed in all black, Samuel stood perched like a crow.
He watched the gym. Watched the Drift members enter. Watched the lights get rigged, the crates stacked.
He watched Hyeon Do slam a locker shut and smile like he'd already won.
The message to Eli was still unsent.
He stared at the screen.
Then, slowly, he pressed send.
S.R.: Don't be late. Bring your fire.
He slipped the phone back into his coat and murmured, "Now burn it down."
Eli – Underground Market Locker Room
A rusted locker creaked open. Eli reached inside and pulled out a black duffel. Inside: his old hoodie. His street shoes. Wrist wraps.
He changed slowly, methodically. Music played softly in the background—a low jazz track, completely out of place.
He hummed along.
As he wrapped his fists, he whispered:
"Let's see if they still scream when they outnumber me."
He threw the hoodie on.
Black. Blood-red trim. Like the first night.
He reached into the bag again, pulled out a ring—silver, etched with a wolf's head.
Slid it onto his finger.
Walked into the storm.
Port Warehouse 6 – Drift Assembly Point
The gym had been gutted. The ring was stripped. No ropes. Just floor and sweat.
Hyeon Do stretched his neck, cracking it side to side.
"I want him breathing," Geon Hak said.
"Why?"
"Because I want to look him in the eyes when I break every finger he's got."
A lookout leaned in. "One minute out."
The crew grew silent. Drift soldiers took their places.
Street-Level Talk – Pre-Fight
A bodega clerk showed a teen a blurry clip.
"He's going there tonight?"
"Yup. Alone."
"You think he's gonna win?"
The clerk smiled grimly. "That's not the question. The question is what the city does after."
A group of Scar Chain second-years watched from a distance, hiding in a car.
"We're not supposed to intervene," one said.
"We won't. But if he lives—"
"Then the Drift dies differently."
Final Scene – Dockside Gym, 9:01 PM
Eli stepped through the broken gate like he owned it.
His footsteps echoed. He stopped in the center of the hall.
"Cute setup."
Silence.
Then: a click.
The lights dimmed.
Geon Hak emerged from the shadows.
"Thought you'd run."
Eli cracked his knuckles. "Thought you'd have better taste in assassins."
Hyeon Do walked out slowly, smiling.
"Let's make this quick," he said. "I've got another job after this."
Eli tilted his head.
"Hope it's a hospital visit."
He looked around at the crew now encircling him.
"Wow. You brought the whole kennel."
Geon Hak scowled. "Keep laughing. You're not getting out of here."
Eli rolled his shoulders. "That's the thing."
He took one step forward. A spotlight fell on him, casting long shadows behind.
"I didn't come to get out."
He raised both fists. Grinning.
"I came to see how many of you break before I do."
The Drift swarmed from the corners.
Eli didn't flinch.
He grinned.
"Good. I needed the warm-up."