South Gupo – Freight Yard
The tracks were rusted. Empty cargo crates stood like tombstones beneath the early morning haze. A train hadn't passed through in months, maybe years, but the wind still howled between the rails like it carried secrets.
Eli stood with his back to the cold steel, eyes scanning the wide, vacant lot. His black coat whipped slightly in the wind, and steam coiled from his breath. One hand in his pocket, the other brushing the rust from a discarded bolt. Still. Calculating.
Samuel Ryu emerged from the shadows near an old security shack, coat draped loose over his frame, hands gloved.
"You were early," he said flatly.
"You were late," Eli replied, voice almost bored.
They stood in silence for a beat. Then Samuel tossed a folded map onto the ground between them. Red circles. X-marks. Names scribbled in neat, controlled handwriting.
"Drift's reorganizing," Samuel said. "Three training dens shut down. But two new ones popped up overnight. They're consolidating."
Eli's boot tapped the edge of the map.
"They scared?"
Samuel hesitated. "Wounded. Scared makes people dangerous."
"Good."
Flashback – Blood Alley, 3 Years Ago
Eli's foot skidded through broken glass as a taller opponent slammed a punch into his ribs. The pain was sharp, hot, perfect.
He smiled.
"You hit like a school nurse," he said, blood slipping from the corner of his mouth.
Then he moved.
Godkiller Step.
The man didn't see the fist until he was staring at the floor, his ears ringing.
Back in the present, Eli's voice cracked the quiet.
"If they want to beat me, they'll have to like pain more than I do."
Samuel didn't smile. "You're baiting them too fast."
Eli looked toward the southern skyline. "They're the ones biting."
Later That Day – Derelict Ferry Terminal
The sky over the dock was bruised. A single fluorescent light flickered above the old ticket booth. The air smelled like metal and salt.
On the floor: a cracked mirror. Embedded in it—a razor blade. The message wasn't just Drift's calling card.
It was personal.
Yoon Sera had once been a rising prodigy under the old Drift hierarchy—a street-level tactician who believed in structure. Then Eli walked into Dogsung and shattered the chain of command like glass. Sera lost status, lost her crew, and worse—lost face.
Word was, she'd volunteered to take him on. Not for Drift. For herself.
Her message was 'Come bleed'.
Eli walked in. Alone.
She was waiting.
Yoon Sera.
Short hair. Pierced brow. A jacket zipped halfway with a blade handle poking from each side. She didn't speak. Just pulled both knives with a snap, holding them in reverse grip.
"You the warm-up act?" Eli asked, lips curling into a grin.
Sera lunged.
Fast. Precise. Low to high arc. The first slash kissed Eli's cheek, barely drawing blood. The second came faster, a surgical line toward his gut.
Eli twisted his torso just enough, the blade missing by inches. He countered immediately—an elbow aimed at her chin.
It connected.
But she rolled with it—bent like water—and came up behind him with a brutal knee to his spine.
Eli stumbled forward with a grunt.
"Sharp dog," he muttered, licking blood from his lips, almost pleased.
Sera didn't respond. Her knives danced.
Left—parried. Right—blocked. Upward—dodged.
Then a low feint—unexpected.
Eli's shin took a glancing cut, just enough to sting. He responded with a sweeping backfist, missing her head by inches.
Sera ducked, spun, and slashed upward again—this time catching his jacket.
Eli dropped his weight.
Death Fall.
Shift. Step. Pivot. His foot hooked behind hers. A second of chaos.
Sera's body tilted awkwardly. Her foot missed purchase.
She went down.
Hard.
Before she could move—
Stomp.
Not full force. Just enough to pin her down and prove a point.
She coughed. Rolled. Blood dripping from her lips.
"You've not met the real Drift yet," she rasped.
"Then send them my regards."
Scar Chain's Edge – Rooftop Table
Eli sat across from Jaeyoon Seo in a folding chair on a rooftop overlooking the city. There were no guards—just Hayeon nearby, arms crossed.
"You're making quite the mess," Jaeyoon said.
"Mess is how you find buried things."
Jaeyoon's eyes flicked. "We offer neutrality. Protected routes. You get space to work. We get info. No leash, just alliance."
Eli tilted his head, that Joker-smile curling.
"If you're the chain... what keeps you from hanging yourself with it?"
Hayeon flinched slightly. Jaeyoon's expression didn't change.
"You're refusing?"
"No. Just not agreeing today."
He stood, brushing dust off his coat.
"When I burn this city clean, make sure you don't confuse smoke for safety."
Outskirts – Old Cemetery
Samuel stood in front of a grave marked only by a stone with no name.
The wind cut cold.
A car pulled up behind him. Tinted windows. The rear door cracked open.
"Ghost Blade," a voice whispered. Familiar. Icy.
Samuel didn't turn.
The car door shut.
And was gone.
South Gupo – Drift Warehouse Rooftop
Sera's body lay still on the ferry terminal floor long after Eli left. But high above, eyes watched.
A man in a torn bomber jacket and mismatched combat boots stepped forward from the warehouse edge, cracking his knuckles.
"Failed," he muttered.
Another stepped beside him. Narrow eyes. Gold tooth. Black beanie.
"She bought us time. That's all she was for."
A phone buzzed. One pressed it to his ear.
"Yes, boss. He's faster than expected. Yes. We'll use the other two next."
He ended the call. Then grinned.
"Let's see how the Devil handles a pack."
Scar Chain's Edge – Rooftop Table
Eli sat across from Jaeyoon Seo in a folding chair on a rooftop overlooking the city. There were no guards—just Hayeon nearby, arms crossed.
"You're making quite the mess," Jaeyoon said.
"Mess is how you find buried things."
Jaeyoon's eyes flicked. "Scar Chain's had our eyes on the docks. You've been lighting fires in our backyard."
Eli smiled, that Joker-style grin tugging at his mouth.
"You didn't think I'd ask for permission, did you?"
"We offer neutrality. Protected routes. You get space to work. We get info. No leash, just alliance."
"If you're the chain... what keeps you from hanging yourself with it?"
Hayeon flinched slightly. Jaeyoon's expression didn't change.
"You're refusing?"
"No. Just not agreeing today."
He stood, brushing dust off his coat.
"When I burn this city clean, make sure you don't confuse smoke for safety."
Outskirts – Old Cemetery
Samuel stood in front of a grave marked only by a stone with no name.
The wind cut cold.
"They buried the body," he thought, eyes narrowing. "Not the debt."
A car pulled up behind him. Tinted windows. The rear door cracked open.
"Ghost Blade," a voice whispered. Familiar. Icy.
Samuel didn't turn.
The car door shut.
And was gone.