The night Seoul breathed was quiet, but Cheon Ming felt the tremor beneath it — the hidden heartbeat of the city's underground. He stood at the balcony of his mansion, the moonlight painting his long purple hair silver. Golden eyes glowed like molten metal as the dragon tattoos across his torso shifted subtly with every slow breath.
He wasn't sleeping.
He rarely did.
Because tonight, the Book of Knowledge whispered.
> —A new anomaly is rising in the city.
Two bodies. One soul. High potential threat.
Cheon Ming smirked.
"Daniel Park… so the experiment finally bore fruit."
The system window floated before him, visible only to his mind.
[New Variable Detected]
Name: Daniel Park
Threat Estimate: E → B Rank (Potential A)
Recommended Action: Observe or Dominate.
"Interesting," Ming murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "But I have more immediate matters."
Below his mansion, the gates opened. Black cars lined the driveway. Figures emerged — all wearing black jackets embroidered with a coiling gold dragon.
Hall of Dragons.
Known across Seoul.
Feared by street crews.
Respected by syndicates.
But none knew where the true base was.
Not Big Deal.
Not Workers.
Not even Gun.
Only Ming's chosen few had ever stepped inside.
Their leader approached: Jiha, the Vice Commander, a tall woman with a calm, lethal aura. She bowed slightly.
"Master Ming, the F-Rank gangs are moving again. The Burn Knuckles took another district."
Ming chuckled softly. "Vasco… that righteous idiot. He reminds me of the old fighters."
Jiha hesitated. "Should we crush them?"
"No." Ming turned, golden eyes gleaming. "We do not move without purpose. For now… let the small fish fight."
He walked past his subordinates, footsteps slow and deliberate. They parted like the sea before him.
"Prepare the car," he said. "We're visiting the outskirts. A new gang thinks they can use my name to threaten students."
Ming hated two things:
people who disrespected him, and people who used his name without permission.
Minutes later, he stepped into an alley lit only by flickering lamps. Four teenage delinquents cornered a terrified boy.
"Give us your wallet! We're from Hall of Dragons!"
The boy stammered. "I—I heard they don't rob people—"
"One more word and—"
A shadow dropped behind them.
Purple hair.
Golden eyes.
Dragon tattoos shimmering under the streetlight.
The delinquents froze.
"You call yourselves my followers?" Ming asked softly.
They turned, trembling.
"M-Master Cheon Ming?! W-we didn't know—"
Ming raised a hand.
The alley went silent.
Then—
PAK!
A palm strike hit the first boy's chest, sending him crashing into the wall.
The second charged. Ming rotated his hips—
WHIP KICK.
The boy folded to the ground.
The third swung a pipe. Ming caught it mid-air, twisted — the pipe snapped like a twig.
The last tried to flee.
Ming appeared behind him like a ghost.
"You shame my name," Ming whispered.
A single chop to the neck — the boy collapsed.
The terrified student stared at him.
"Go home," Ming said. "Tell no one what happened."
The boy nodded and ran.
Ming turned to the unconscious fakes.
"Jiha," he called.
She appeared instantly.
"Take them," Ming said. "Brand them with exile. No one impersonates the Hall of Dragons."
"Yes, Master."
As Ming walked back to his car, the Book of Knowledge murmured again.
> Another variable is approaching.
Name: Daniel Park.
Intersection: Soon.
Ming smiled.
Finally, something interesting was coming.