[Shin's Gym – Morning]
The city was gray again.
A heavy sky pressed down over North Busan like it was holding its breath. Inside Shin's Gym, fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the wall map had grown worse—more pins removed, more lines cut.
A Gupo fighter leaned over the table, jaw clenched.
Gupo Fighter: "Food runners from Namchang haven't reported back. It's been two days. We checked the shelters. They're gone."
Jace let out a slow exhale, rubbing his eyes.
Jace: "They're not hitting crews anymore. They're hitting civilians. Soft routes. No uniforms."
Samuel didn't speak at first. He stood still at the far wall, eyes on three small green pins he'd just removed—districts once marked as safe zones.
Samuel: "CTRL9 knows we're stronger in a fight. So now they're attacking the parts we swore we'd protect."
Seojun: "That's why we strike back. Hard. Pick a crew and put them down."
Samuel turned.
Samuel: "We're not chasing shadows. Not yet."
Seojun (snaps): "What are we doing, then? Letting them wipe the board while we play noble?"
A water bottle clattered against the wall as Seojun tossed it in frustration.
Samuel: "We don't respond emotionally. That's what they want. They film rage. Then they edit the story."
Jace pulled his hoodie over his head and leaned against the table.
Jace: "This isn't about headlines anymore. This is memory. They're cutting pieces out of this city like they're cleaning a plate."
Samuel looked down at the map again. One name whispered in his mind.
Yuji.
Somewhere in all of this, they were still hiding her.
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[Backstreet Strip – Dagger Chain Turf]
A wounded teenage boy limped into the alley behind Dagger Chain's converted safehouse. His shirt was soaked, knuckles bloodied, and a crude CTRL9 fang logo was inked on his collarbone.
Baek Yuri stood over him, arms crossed. Her blade gloves were off, but her eyes were knives.
Yuri: "Who did this?"
Boy (weak): "They said… they said you were liars. That you'd protect us. But no one came."
Two Dagger Chain lieutenants helped him inside. One of them, Haemi, turned to Yuri.
Haemi: "They're baiting us. You know that, right?"
Yuri: "I know."
Haemi: "And we're still pretending we're not in this war?"
Yuri didn't answer. She looked out at the street — cracked concrete, flickering neon above an empty bus stop. Somewhere far off, sirens sang like ghosts.
Haemi: "We have names. We have places. Just say the word."
Yuri finally spoke.
Yuri: "We'll open an intel line to Shin's Gym. No flags. But we coordinate now."
Haemi (shocked): "That's it?"
Yuri: "That's the line. We don't fight for politics. We fight for people."
She didn't mention Yuji. But she thought of her.
They'd shared a blanket once in a storm shelter two winters ago. Yuri still remembered the sound of her voice — too calm for someone so young.
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[Underpass Near Port – Afternoon]
The rain had stopped, but the ground was still slick underfoot. Seojun stepped into the underpass first, Gupo flanking him — brass mouthguard in, fists wrapped tight.
A skinny kid in CTRL9 colors stumbled ahead of them.
Seojun: "You the one who asked to defect?"
Kid (nodding fast): "Yeah. I got info. Names, transit schedules, you name it. Just get me out."
But as soon as he turned, a flash of red caught Seojun's eye.
Four more figures emerged — windbreakers zipped to their chins. They weren't runners. They were hunters.
Gupo Fighter (low): "Ambush."
The fight exploded.
Gravel crunched under kicks. One Gupo got slammed into a pillar. The other went for the legs. Seojun moved like a street animal — no patterns, just pain.
He caught one attacker in the gut, drove a knee up into his ribs, then cracked him with a forearm to the neck.
Seojun (to the kid): "Run, now—!"
But then he saw it.
A Class-Zero soldier — mask on, holding a small device — walked through the tunnel filming. Not fighting. Just recording.
Seojun (furious): "You're filming this?"
The Class-Zero didn't even flinch. They panned slowly toward Seojun like a director tracking a shot.
Seojun (to himself): "They're not here for turf. They're here to cut us into content."
By the time the attackers retreated, the footage was already gone.
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[Abandoned CTRL9 Apartment – Evening]
Samuel moved silently through the empty unit, one hand on a folded baton in his hoodie. The walls were white, sterile — too clean for a city apartment. One room still had wires hanging from the ceiling.
A portable DVR system blinked weakly. And on the floor, under a rusted chair: a bracelet. Small. Faded purple thread. A cracked plastic bead.
He picked it up.
Yuji's.
He remembered her laughter — sitting on the rooftop of Yeojin's old place, flipping through a comic while Ryun teased her about her drawing skills.
Samuel (soft): "You were always the heart of us…"
A footstep echoed behind him.
He turned.
A figure leaned against the wall — not Ryun, but a tall boy in CTRL9 gear, mask half-down.
Class-Zero Operative: "Still chasing ghosts, Samuel?"
Samuel didn't move.
Operative: "She remembers you, you know. But we had to clean her of some things. Make space."
Samuel: "Where is she?"
Operative (smirking): "If you want her, you'll have to survive long enough to understand why we took her."
Samuel stepped forward.
Samuel: "You're not the first person to try to erase her. You won't be the last I put in the ground."
The operative backed out through the door, smiling.
No fight. Just a message.
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[CTRL9 Executive Apartment – Nightfall]
The room was steel and shadow. Keum Ryun sat barefoot on a long couch, flicking through surveillance captures like postcards. Fight stills. Crying faces. Samuel's eyes frozen on the bracelet.
Behind him, a figure stood tall and silent — blurred by distance. Well-dressed. No name given.
Ryun: "He's coming. For her. For the past."
Executive (low): "Good. He needs to remember what it cost him last time."
The executive placed an old photo on the table. Bloodstained. Burnt edges.
Yeojin Kim, eyes open, throat torn. CTRL9's old lesson.
Executive: "Let grief do the work. Saves bullets."
Ryun looked at the photo. Not with sadness. Not with joy.
Just memory.