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Not a Gangster (But My Dad Is)

elisabeth_Ecoss
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Chapter 1 - Wrong Uniform, Right Mission

Flashback: Childhood in New Jersey

Before Roby Moreno became the most annoying student in all of Korea,

he was just a kid with golden brown hair and icy blue eyes, always messing up his best friend's neatly combed hair, then running off laughing like a maniac.

That was back then.

In New Jersey, USA.

Roby grew up in a tough neighborhood, but he wasn't the type to turn cruel.

His father, the legendary gangster known only as "Ghost", was feared on the streets.

But at home, Ethan Moreno was silent. Not cold—but unreadable.

Meanwhile, Roby's mom, Yoon Hye-mi, was a gothic angel in black lace. Quiet. Mysterious.

And somehow, she always made every room fall silent with just a look.

Roby inherited his father's piercing blue eyes and his mother's haunting charisma.

Other kids used to say, "You look like a video game character."

To which Roby would reply,

> "Yeah, I'm the glitch."

His best friend since childhood was Kim Ji-hoon, a quiet, clean-cut Korean boy who lived across the hall.

If Roby was chaos, Ji-hoon was calm.

They were complete opposites—but perfectly balanced.

Then, at age 13, Ji-hoon's family had to move back to Korea.

The boys kept in touch… for a while.

But like most childhood friendships separated by oceans, messages eventually faded.

Years Later...

Roby's life moved on.

He survived school, got into trouble (occasionally), and charmed his way through every system thrown at him.

Until one day…

His mother received an email.

She didn't say anything.

Didn't react.

But a week later, Roby opened her laptop.

A news tab was left open.

> "Student Suicide: School Claims Depression, No Evidence of Bullying Found."

The photo was blurred.

But Roby knew that face.

It was Ji-hoon.

That day, everything changed.

A week later, while eating cereal in the kitchen, Roby said:

> "Mom, I'm going to Korea."

"What?"

"I need to transfer. That school. In Seoul."

"...Are you sure?"

"Ji-hoon didn't just give up. I won't let them bury him with a headline."

She looked at him for a long time.

No long speeches.

Just a quiet nod.

And within a week, the plane ticket was booked.

Luggage packed.

Passport printed.

Roby Moreno was on his way to South Korea.

On the plane, he scrolled through his photos.

There it was—his last picture with Ji-hoon, soaked in rain, laughing like idiots in front of their apartment.

Roby gave a crooked smile.

> "Wait for me, Ji. I've got your back now."

Arrival in South Korea

The airport was loud—voices announcing flights in a language Roby barely understood.

Korean everywhere. Fast. Sharp. Strange.

He stood with a heavy backpack on his shoulders and a sticker-covered roller suitcase beside him. The crowd moved around him like a stream, and Roby just... watched.

> "Cool. Everyone's speaking alien," he muttered.

Incheon International Airport felt like another planet.

People moved fast, phones in hand, barely glancing at each other. Roby's eyes scanned the entrance... and then—he spotted him.

A tall guy stood just outside the glass doors.

Long hair tied into a messy bun, oversized black T-shirt, ripped jeans.

And on the left side of his neck?

A small dragon tattoo, curling up like it was about to crawl behind his ear.

Roby smirked.

> "Yup. That's definitely him."

The glass doors slid open. The guy waved.

> "Roby?"

"Uncle Jong-woo?"

"Whoa! You grew up, man! Last time I saw you, you were asking for chocolate milk and drawing monsters on my homework."

"Now I am the monster," Roby grinned.

They laughed.

Jong-woo, his mom's youngest brother, was nothing like an "uncle."

He was only 24, a college student in Seoul, majoring in visual design. Chill, artsy, slightly chaotic—but cool in a very "doesn't care what people think" kind of way.

> "My car's kind of a mess, but it runs. We'll crash at the apartment first, yeah?"

"As long as it's not a sewer, I'm in."

They hopped into a beat-up sedan with faded seats and a Bluetooth speaker duct-taped to the dashboard. Korean hip-hop played softly as they pulled into the city.

Through the window, Roby saw Seoul for the first time.

Neon signs, glowing storefronts, giant posters of K-pop idols. People in oversized coats and trendy sneakers moved fast, like they were all late for something.

> "Kinda thought this place would look like a K-drama."

"Reality's way messier," Jong-woo said with a smirk.

Roby leaned back. But just before closing his eyes, he whispered to himself:

> "One step closer, Ji-hoon. One step closer..."

Jong-woo's apartment wasn't big, but it was full of life.

The walls were decorated with abstract art, design books scattered everywhere, and near the window stood a wooden shelf filled with trophies and framed photos.

Roby dropped his duffel bag and walked over.

There were pictures of:

Jong-woo wearing a university boxing championship belt,

Another of him holding a national graphic design award,

And one very weird one: Jong-woo grinning with a bruised face while holding a bowl of spicy noodles.

Roby smirked.

> "Uncle... you still box?"

Jong-woo peeked from the kitchen, tying a Batman apron around his waist.

> "Of course. Every Saturday. Keeps me in shape—and keeps annoying seniors off my back."

"No wonder you still look badass... even with a baby apron."

Jong-woo stuck out his tongue.

> "Hey! Batman is peak masculinity."

Minutes later, the smell of food filled the room.

Jong-woo brought out two steaming bowls: one of kimchi jjigae, glowing dangerously red, and another of odeng soup.

> "I totally forgot you're not used to this yet. But give it a try. My cooking's top-tier at Hanwol."

Starving, Roby shoved a full spoon of the red soup into his mouth.

Two seconds later…

> "AAAH!! WHAT IS THIS—KOREAN LAVA?!"

He stood up, fanning his tongue with his shirt.

Jong-woo nearly dropped his chopsticks laughing.

> "HAHA! My bad! I thought you could handle spice like your mom!"

"She's a chili demon! Her tongue's made of iron!"

"Come on! The son of Ghost and Hye-mi can't even handle soup?"

Roby chugged three glasses of water and flopped back on the couch, eyeing the pot like it was an enemy.

> "If all Korean food is like this... I might die before I even find the bullies."

They both laughed.

For the first time since hearing about Ji-hoon's death, Roby felt warm, safe… and maybe, just a bit excited for what was coming.