Chapter Text
Unfamiliar music played in the restaurant, which was decorated in a vibrant, colorful style. Neon signs adorned the inside of the place, and countless photo frames hung on the walls. Colorful stools stood in front of the bar. The dark wooden shelves behind the counter were filled with various types of alcohol, and the air was thick with the smell of food James couldn't identify.
When he had arrived at the address, he'd wondered if he was in the wrong place, but after a quick message, he'd entered the Mexican restaurant and was looking around for Gitae. He was sitting in the far corner, which wasn't easily visible from the entrance. James sat down in the empty seat opposite the young man and placed his backpack next to the table.
This time, Gitae was wearing tight leather pants and a black leather jacket, but was shirtless. James was beginning to wonder why he knew so many well-built men who seemed to dislike wearing shirts. As he adjusted his chair, he glanced down and noticed that Gitae was wearing his cowboy boots too. It made him smile.
"Dinner's on me tonight." Gitae emptied his glass. Even though it was clear as water, James doubted there was any water in the small glass. It wasn't even evening yet, but he was already drinking in broad daylight. However, James knew by now that his new friend could handle liquor.
"It better be." James gave him a grin. "You lost the last chess game and, on top of that, forgot to pay me for the tutoring."
Calling it tutoring might have been a bit much. They mostly reviewed the material and worked through the topics Gitae hadn't yet covered or missed in class, but they mainly focused on English and Korean.
The waiter arrived, and when James struggled with the unfamiliar menu names, Gitae ordered for him. The waiter hurriedly left, only to return a moment later with James' drink. His hand trembled slightly as he placed the cola on the table. Shortly after, he also brought a bowl of nachos. They were topped with finely sliced red onions, green and red chilies, fried onions, and avocado. Curiously, James tried it and tasted the vinegar and olive oil alongside the other ingredients.
"You have to try the nachos with the yogurt." Gitae demonstrated, dipping one of the tortilla chips into the dollop of yogurt that sat atop the nachos before enjoying it. James frowned briefly before doing the same. The yogurt had been seasoned with a squeeze of lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper. It tasted good, even if the flavor was unfamiliar to his palate.
“I didn’t know you liked Mexican food.”
“I stayed in Mexico for a while.” This sudden revelation stopped the next tortilla chip just before James’ lips.
“I returned to Seoul shortly before our first meeting at the EH-Mart.” As Gitae spoke, he enjoyed the meal. James got the impression the older man had missed the food dearly, as well as the country. “I only meant to run a quick errand and then head back … but things didn’t quite go as planned.” A small smile crept onto his lips. “My plans have been delayed and slightly altered. Now I want to at least finish high school in South Korea before moving back to Mexico.”
“That’s…” To be honest, James didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what he’d expected regarding Gitae’s future planning, but it definitely wasn’t a country on another continent. “Why Mexico, of all places?”
Gitae simply shrugged. “Do you like the food?”
“It’s good.” James reached for his glass. “I guess I just need to get used to it.”
“That would be good.” The smile Gitae gave him seemed more amused than pleased by his diplomatic reply. “But you still have some time to learn to love it.”
It sounded like Gitae would be taking him to this or other Mexican restaurants in Seoul again soon. If his homesickness was that bad, food was a good remedy. James knew that from personal experience. “Do you come here often? The waiter seemed to know you. We got our order pretty fast.”
“I guess I’m what you’d call a regular.” Gitae shrugged. “I know the owner pretty well, too.”
That explained why the waiter had been in such a hurry, even skipping over other tables that had been occupied for longer. James’ gaze drifted back to the bar, where the waiter was loading a tray with new drinks for the other guests.
“Here.”
As James turned his attention back to Gitae, the man placed a black folder on the table and opened it. He took out a picture that James recognized straight away, as it showed him as a trainee.
“Where did you get this?”
“From PTJ’s social media, before they deleted it.” The paper was high-quality and had a slight sheen. Almost reverently, Gitae touched the photo before giving it to James. “How about an autograph?”
James raised an eyebrow, amused. “You want an autograph? From me? I was just a trainee.”
“So what? The photo’s good.” Gitae shrugged. Then, almost cunning, he held his chin with the same hand and started grinning. “And who knows? Maybe your autograph will be worth a lot someday if you become an idol.”
This reply elicited a laugh from the younger student. “Do you have a pen?”
Gitae pulled out a pen from the same place he had kept the black folder and placed it next to the photo. He had come well-prepared for their meeting. James’s lips twitched before he signed the photo with a black felt-tip pen. The color stood out sharply against the red light in the background, but fitted the overall color scheme.
When he was done, he wanted to put the photo back in the folder, but Gitae beat him to it and took the photo. He examined James’ signature with satisfaction.
“I hope you’ll be able to sell it for a lot of money someday. After all, you don’t need a photo when you have the original.”
“Mhm.” Gitae let out a dark laugh and placed the photo back in the folder. “That’s true. Nothing’s better than the original, is it?”
The vibration of James' smartphone interrupted his answer, and as he automatically checked the message, his good mood was instantly stifled and replaced by a different sensation, one that felt as if someone was grabbing his insides and twisting them inside out.
It was an unknown number. But the sender wasn't.
“What’s wrong?”
For a moment, James had forgotten to control his expression. “Nothing.”
He swallowed and stood up. “I’m sorry, but I need to leave. Something came up in Ansan, and my friend is in —” Shaking his head, James reached for his wallet, but Gitae raised a hand imperatively, reminding him that he had invited James to dinner. But from the vertical lines between Gitae’s distinctive eyebrows, James could tell that the older man wasn’t thrilled. It hadn’t been the first time James had stood him up for something or someone else.
“I’ll make it up to you.” James bowed apologetically, clutching his smartphone tightly.
“I hope so. You—” The rest of Gitae’s words were lost in the sound of James pushing back the chair and jumping to his feet. He dialed Taesoo’s number, praying he would answer, and ran outside, the ringing in his ear mingling with the rush of his blood.
**********
The message had led them directly to an old warehouse located in the remnants of the Black Wolf circle's territory. The circle members who had confronted them, now filled the streets and the yard in front of the warehouse, like slain predators who had been turned from hunters to hunted.
"I can't believe it." Taesoo's shoulders trembled with suppressed rage that even the petty skirmishes couldn't quell. This wasn't surprising, though. These little lackeys of the beast couldn't even elicit a yawn from James, but the situation was too serious for jokes.
"What exactly?" James asked, slamming a Black Wolf member's face into the dirt with one kick.
"First, that you didn’t tell us you met the half-assed King of Incheon." Screaming, the next opponent charged at Taesoo, wildly brandishing an iron bar. "Second, that idiot has your mobile phone number."
Taesoo's right fist crashed loudly and mercilessly into the attacker's face, sending him sprawling to the ground. The iron bar hit the ground next to his head, clinking loudly. The sound echoed from the surrounding buildings until it finally came to rest.
"Thirdly, Jaegyeon Na gave your number to that bastard."
James sighed, feeling only the slightest bit guilty.
“Fourth, I’m here to rescue a middle school student I have nothing to do with, yet he’s being used to lure me—us—here.”
As if Taesoo would allow an innocent boy, who had nothing to do with his feud, to be put in danger because of him. James himself had only heard about the middle schooler because Taesoo had complained that the boy was following him around like a stray that had been fed once and then couldn’t be shaken off.
Even though Taesoo always suppressed a small smile while talking about Hudson Ahn, his gaze had become soft. However, James had never pointed it out to him.
Still, James wondered how Siwon Kim had found out about the boy. Had he had Taesoo observed by his men? Still, taking a child as a hostage was a dirty trick. Even for the Beast of Ansan.
Suddenly, Taesoo stopped in front of the warehouse entrance. He didn't look back, but James understood every one of his words perfectly.
"Stay out of it. This is my fight."
"I know." James smiled and stepped behind him. He was only here to cover Taesoo’s back and deal with his own mistakes. His role here was merely a supporting one.
The door opened, revealing an almost empty warehouse that reminded James of Jaegyeon's hideout in Incheon. A few worn pieces of furniture were scattered around, suggesting that people used to hang out here regularly, perhaps even lived here. A sofa and armchairs to their left. An improvised kitchenette with dishes in a large plastic basin. A large table with chairs on the right side. Playing cards lay on the table as if a game had been played there recently.
The warehouse was unusually deserted for the number of opponents James had expected. Had they already destroyed most of the circle outside the base? How dire had the situation become for the once mighty circle? Just a few months ago, the beast’s circle had been conquering the western districts and had absorbed many different, smaller circles like a black hole.
After their leader had been arrested, his men hadn’t been able to hold the western Sangnok District without him. The once-subjugated circles had rebelled, pre-gen gangsters had interfered and pruned the first generation, and finally, Taesoo's circle had risen to new strength and delivered the coup de grâce.
A personal vendetta was therefore hardly surprising.
But that didn't mean you could drag a child into it.
Beside him, Taesoo let out a sigh of relief, which brought James's thoughts back to the present moment —and back to their main goal.
The boy they were looking for was hanging like a ham from a hook, ropes wrapped around his torso, and his hands tied behind his back. Two young men stood around him, trying to keep him still, but Hudson was kicking, cursing, and even snapping at an outstretched hand like a rabid dog.
When Hudson noticed Taesoo's presence, his demeanor changed immediately. The boy suddenly stopped fidgeting before beaming from ear to ear. “Sir!”
“Seems like your little fanboy is fine.” James chuckled softly, his gaze fixed on the two circle members who were turning towards them, calling out for their boss in alarm.
A creaking was coming from the sofa as someone sat up and draped an arm over the back. The wild, black mop of hair with white hair-ends quickly identified the person. Beside him, Taesoo tensed and took a deep breath.
James had heard that Taesoo had lost to the beast not long before Siwon Kim had been sent to prison. But that had been months ago. Perhaps the Beast of Ansan had grown even stronger in the detention centre, but if what Jaegyeon Na had said was true, Siwon Kim had spent much of his time in solitary confinement, while Taesoo had fought his way to the top in Ansan. No one knew better than James how hard Taesoo had trained, how hard he had worked, over the past few months; He had put so much time and effort into his steeled fist, but also in himself and his future.
But what Taesoo needed now, as he faced his old enemy, was belief in himself. Hesitation and indecision were dangerous, especially when he was up against someone who was familiar with his fighting style and who had a psychological advantage from Taesoo’s previous defeat.
“I didn’t know you’d sunk so low that you were even kidnapping children to get to me.”
Siwon Kim stretched, cracked his neck, and then turned his head in their direction. The sofa looked old and dirty. Probably not the most comfortable place for a nap. “Believe it or not, I hadn’t planned to fight you this way. One thing led to another.”
While the two old enemies talked and assessed each other, James seized the moment and scurried over to Hudson. His two jailers were unaware of what was happening; their attention was drawn to their boss and his opponent. Within seconds, James had eliminated them. Calmly, he put their bodies on top of each other and then used them as a ladder to reach the meat hook and the boy. Curious, Hudson turned his head toward James, but this caused him to spin around and shake the hook.
“Stay still,” James murmured, shifting his weight slightly as he stood on the gangster’s back, who made muffled noises.
“Who are you?”
“Just a friend of your big idol.” The teasing smile was unmistakable in his voice as he untied the ropes and helped Hudson down. The boy had barely enough strength to stand. His legs buckled, and without hesitation, James grabbed Hudson by the waist and sat him down on the nearby table. Hudson blinked, probably surprised by the unexpected strength that resided within James.
“It’s time to finish this, don’t you think?” Siwon’s voice cut through the air, filled with the same arrogance he had already displayed in Club Ursa.
“Sure.” Taesoo snorted and rolled his broad shoulders. James was a little surprised at how calmly Taesoo faced his former opponent. In the past, he would have stormed headfirst into the fight and been overwhelmed by his emotions. “You’ve annoyed me long enough. Let’s settle our old score once and for all.”
Laughing and brimming with excitement, Siwon Kim raised his fist. “Then let’s see whose bite is more deadly: a mere dog’s bite or a real wolf’s!”
Ugh. How stupid.
James glanced from the fighters back to the table. He couldn’t understand why these teenagers constantly compared themselves with animals and named themselves after wild beasts. Of course, he knew using animals as symbols had been a common practice across cultures and all kinds of time periods, but for fuck’s sake, most of these animals weren’t around in modern cities, and the circle’s names and fighters’ titles had become so lazy and uncreative. But mostly, it was so childish. And cringeworthy.
Whether it was Gongseob throwing around stupid nicknames or Siwon Kim, the only exception was Jichang’s nickname, since his snake eyes couldn’t have created a better moniker.
His fingers slid over the objects on the table, pushing aside anything distracting. Apart from the playing cards, there were a few sheets of paper and pens lying around, right next to a coffee mug bearing the gang symbol.
Overcome by a sudden urge, James nudged the cup off the edge of the table with his index finger and relished the sound of it shattering into pieces.
The sudden clang made Hudson flinch and look in his direction, but James ignored his worried face. Cheeky, James grinned at Siwon, who looked less annoyed by his destroyed property than by the fact that James had interrupted his wannabe villain speech.
Then James sat down next to Hudson and dangled his legs. Nice. From here, they had the best view of the impending fight. All that was missing was popcorn. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I can take a beating,” the boy said, trying to sound brave, while quickly wiping his face. His legs and hands were still trembling slightly, presumably as the adrenaline wore off. “I got some of them pretty good.”
The pride in his voice made James grin. He could see why Taesoo liked the boy. He had guts.
“Sir!” Hudson’s attention was drawn back to Taesoo, followed by the sound of fists hitting flesh.
Finally, what James had been waiting for began, and it immediately silenced the boy.
The two Ansan fighters clashed.
The initial exchange of blows was already fierce. Someone else would have been hospitalized with just one of those hits, but both men were still standing upright, taking each other’s fists to the jaw. In that moment, they looked like statues of titans, frozen in time.
Neither was willing to back down.
It wasn't a tactical fight. It wasn't about speed or technique.
It was pure strength clashing with strength.
Endurance and resilience were equally tested, and not only Hudson but also James flinched at the following blows; the redhead was stronger than he looked, but he himself would have trouble withstanding so many powerful hits. He could claim to be on the path to different sorts of mastery, but he hadn't yet crossed these thresholds.
Taesoo's fist connected with Siwon's jaw. The beast stumbled back, and Hudson cheered up. But the relief of this small triumph didn't last long. Another punch aimed at Siwon’s ribs, but he managed to block. The Beast of Ansan hissed, the force of the blow making his arm ache—though he had only sacrificed his weaker arm.
As Siwon retreated, he suddenly spun around and used the torque to kick Taesoo in the face with even more force. His boots were studded with metal plates, and some dust and dirt got into Taesoo’s eyes. He shook his head, blood trickling from a cut above his eyebrow, and his eyes watered from foreign particles.
The pain due to the unexpected attack didn't stop Taesoo, but it impaired his vision long enough for Siwon Kim to pull something from his jacket pocket and slip it over his hand. At the same time, something small fell to the ground.
Hudson let out a warning cry, but it was already too late.
The beast retaliated with a blow to Taesoo's stomach, earning a grunt of pain as Taesoo stumbled back. The next punch caught Taesoo at the chin, turning his face to the side before a barrage of punches poured over his body, shaking him like he was just a punching bag and not a human.
James pressed his lips together and leaned forward, every fiber of his being tense. His mind screamed at him to move and come to Taesoo's aid. But he couldn't. This was Taesoo's fight.
This was between him and Siwon Kim, and no one had the right to interfere.
Taesoo staggered back as Siwon Kim paused, panting, and watched the result of his attack with satisfaction. Blood glistened on the silver brass knuckles.
“Last time, you went straight down after one punch,” the beast commented, clearly surprised. “I’m impressed you’re still standing.”
With an unfazed expression, Taesoo turned back to his opponent and spat the blood onto the ground. The sight made Hudson flinch before he reached for James’s sleeve. Amused, James glanced at the boy, but remained quiet and focused back on the fight.
“It's just like our last fight. You haven’t let up, but you haven’t gotten any stronger either.” Taesoo shrugged as if the powerful blows with the brass knuckles had barely affected him. “But I know some guys who are far more resilient and hit harder.”
James invariably burst out laughing, the image of the other alliance members flashing before his eyes. Why had he even worried?
The comment—and perhaps James's laughter—made the beast see red. With an angry yell, Siwon Kim charged forward. The silver of his brass knuckles flashed as Taesoo stood tall, ready to take the full force of the attack.
Hudson winced and gasped as Taesoo staggered, his legs giving beneath him. Clutching his head with one hand and his face distorted in pain, he looked as if Siwon had done real damage. Dark, fresh blood trickled between Taesoo’s fingers as he held his forehead.
Such a wound was dangerous. The beast was already strong, but the destructive power of his weapon only amplified his hits. It was a devilish thing, but at the same time, the brass knuckles seemed to desecrate the fight.
Such a thing was undignified in the face of a man who trusted only his right fist.
But in a real fight, there was no honor. It didn't matter how you won, as long as you won, and the beast knew it. They all knew it.
"Don't worry," James muttered, unable to tear his eyes away from the fight. He didn't have to look at Hudson to know the boy felt the same way. James trusted in Taesoo's skills and strength, but the guy was stubborn and had that stupid habit of taking damage like a tank instead of just dodging attacks. As if to convince himself, James added, "He doesn't need my help."
Taesoo had something else to win the fight. A weapon that was so much more dangerous and effective than Siwon Kim’s brass knuckles. Gritting his teeth, Taesoo straightened up as Siwon Kim charged at him once again, the brass knuckles on his fist poised for the final blow.
The attack missed Taesoo by a hair's breadth. Instead, Taesoo's fist thundered into Siwon's face like a bullet. His body reeled and crumpled to the floor. Gasping, Taesoo hovered over him, staring down as if expecting his opponent to rise anew. But Siwon Kim didn't even flinch; motionless, he stayed on the dirty ground.
"Wow," Hudson whispered reverently.
Then, with a proud grin, Taesoo turned to face them. Blood trickled from his reddened knuckles. Slowly but surely, he approached them before stopping in front of Hudson and placing his blood-free left hand on the boy’s dark blond hair, ruffling it.
“You were brave today. Sorry you got caught in my fight, kiddo.”
The boy blushed, unable to process that his hero hadn't just come to save him, but had actually cared for him and even given him a head pat.
James almost laughed at his stunned expression. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Taesoo. It would be best if you take Hudson to the nearest clinic. He—and you—should get checked out and treated if necessary.”
He could see from Taesoo's face that the other fighter was about to protest, but then he stopped and gave Hudson a worried look. The boy had a bloody lip, scratches on his face, and a few drops of blood on his school uniform. No matter how brave the boy acted, he was, after all, just a middle school student.
Taesoo nodded obediently before helping Hudson down from the table and giving James a questioning look. James waved him off. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Once the two had left the warehouse, James grabbed something from the table, jumped down, and slowly approached the motionless body in the middle of the warehouse. Blood stained the floor. Soon, the bruises on Siwon Kim’s torso would become more pronounced, and he probably had more than just one broken bone.
With a sigh, James sat down beside him and picked up the silver lighter that had fallen from Siwon Kim's pocket during the fight. He opened it, and a yellow-red flame appeared. So close, James could even feel the warmth on his chin and cheeks. "I know you're still awake."
"...fuck."
This elicited a chuckle from James, not without a hint of malicious glee.
There was another click as he relit the flame.
"What?" the defeated beast groaned. Each word seemed to drain more of his strength. "Are you going to make good on your threat and pull my teeth out? Or would you rather burn my face?"
"A part of me would like to," James admitted, "But this wasn't my fight, and it wasn't my business." Thoughtfully, he ran his finger through the flame without getting hurt. "Besides, I believe you that what happened to Hudson wasn't intentional."
After James’ words, silence followed. Then Siwon Kim snorted. “Does that matter?”
“It does.” James once again surveyed the meager furnishings of the warehouse. This dilapidated place was presumably where Siwon had stayed after returning to Ansan. Perhaps he'd lived here ever since he'd been kicked out of his home when he had been only a middle schooler. “I suspect the boy recognized you or your men when you were searching for Taesoo in his territory and then provoked you. He probably even struck first, and then things escalated.”
When Siwon responded with silence, James knew he was right. After everything James had heard about Hudson and how much he admired and emulated Taesoo, this wasn't surprising.
However, Siwon Kim didn't even defend himself. He had made a mistake by involving Hudson and then using the situation to lure Taesoo out for their overdue fight. He had already lost his territory, even his circle.
All of this had either been an attempt to win it back by defeating his rival or a desperate hope to go down fighting.
James rolled his eyes.
These men from Ansan were all so stubborn and dramatic.
“Maybe I’m going soft,” James murmured then. Maybe he just liked the Beast of Ansan. Or it was pity. Maybe Siwon Kim just reminded him of his friends, who could have ended up just like him. “But I don’t think you should waste your life like this. I think you can still make it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Siwon Kim started to laugh, but the laughter quickly turned into a painful cough. “I was always a lost cause.”
“If you continue going down this road, it will either kill you or land you back in jail. Next time it might not just be for a car race. Next time it might be murder.” The lighter snapped shut. “I think Taesoo has punished you enough already. So I’m only taking this.”
The red-haired teenager put the lighter in his jacket pocket. Then James took a felt-tip pen he had previously taken from the table and knelt over the beast. He removed the cap of the pen with his teeth and began to write on Siwon’s bare chest. The beast groaned whenever he touched a developing bruise, but James couldn’t care less.
“You know … I had imagined you sitting on me very differently.”
“Be quiet or I’m going to cut off your tongue instead,” James warned him without looking up from his human canvas.
When he was done, he put the cap back on the felt-tip pen and carelessly dropped it to the floor next to Siwon Kim’s head.
“If you change your mind … text or call me. Anything else, though, I’ll ignore and then block you.”
With that, he left Siwon Kim, the smell of blood still lingering in his nose. His hand searched for his smartphone, bumping against the cold metal of the lighter. He hoped Taesoo would reply quickly so he could visit him and the boy in the hospital before heading back to Seoul.
It took Siwon Kim a while to find the strength to get up. His whole body seemed to be in agony. Nevertheless, he managed to stand and forced himself to move toward the sofa. There, he picked up the bottle of cheap booze that had been next to his improvised ‘bed’ and took a few quick swigs to numb the pain. Unfortunately, the bottle was emptied too quickly, and he just carelessly dropped it to the floor.
Fuck. He felt like dying.
He never would have thought that damned dog would grow so strong. He'd underestimated Taesoo and paid the price.
Dragging himself on, he went to the few wooden crates further back in the hall. There, he hid his food supplies and, most importantly, more alcohol.
Just as he was about to open one of the crates, his gaze fell on the filthy mirror that had been hanging there long before the Black Wolf circle had chosen this place as their headquarters. Since Siwon's time in prison, no one had bothered to keep it clean.
And now his pale, bruised face stared back at him. The dog had gotten him good. It would take forever to recover. And then he would—
… yes, what would he do then? Lose to the dog again? Wallow in the filth even more like a cur that's been chased away by its master?
His gaze drifted lower, drawn to the inverted letters that stood out black against his pale skin. Suddenly, they were making sense in the mirror. All at once, every other thought seemed to die.
Only the few words, so clearly visible in the mirror, seemed to exist, as if some higher power were mocking him for the fact that this particular part of the mirror was still so clean and clear.
‘You’re still a human. Not a mere beast.’
Siwon Kim stumbled backward and fell to the ground. The last vestiges of strength drained from his body as his cold fingers slid over the words on his skin. No matter how many times he touched them, the black marker was dry, and the message didn’t simply disappear.
A deep, unnatural sound erupted from his throat. It was a sound he hadn't made in years. A deep, sobbing sound, bursting from his soul, uncontrolled and overwhelming.
Fuck.
Tears rolled down his cheeks and fell onto his chest, running over the words, unable to erase them. The last time he had cried was when his family had disowned him. He had shed his last tears when his mother had cast out her son, her only child, as if he were a festering sore she was glad to be rid of. He hadn't cared about his stepfather, but his mother … that day she had destroyed something inside him that he couldn't name.
Her disgusted gaze had pierced deep into his flesh, dug out his heart, and then left it lying in the dirt of the streets, as if it—he—had been a mistake from the very beginning, one that should never have existed.
That day, his basic trust had shattered.
And with it, everything that had still given him support in this world had vanished. Afterward, with whatever remained, he had only tried to destroy himself further, as if he could so erase what still caused him pain, but it had been useless.
Back then, she had abandoned him like an unwanted dog and left him to fend for himself. Like a wild beast, he had lashed out to survive.
“Fuck,” he repeated, wiping his face with his hand, spreading dirt and blood across his cheeks and forehead, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
'You're still human.' He reached into his jacket pocket for his lighter, feeling a desperate urge for a calming cigarette, but then he remembered James had taken it. Instead, his fingers bumped against something else.
It was the business card he'd completely forgotten about.
"We can help you," the voice of the man who had visited him in prison shortly before his release echoed in his ears, "If you want to make money and conquer Ansan, you just have to work for us. We can give you anything you want."
The white skull on a black background grinned at him mockingly.
The paper rustled in his hand as he crushed the business card. Fuck. He was tired of fighting.
**********
The sliding door creaked softly as Jichang opened the balcony door. He mentally added oiling it to his to-do list so it wouldn't get any worse.
From the balcony, they had a good view of the courtyard and the front garden. The view only ended at the edge of the wall, but from this elevated position, the neighboring houses were also visible. The balcony itself wasn't particularly large, but it offered enough space for three men. An ashtray sat ready on a small folding table, already containing a fair amount of ash, as three of them smoked regularly. Although Gongseob was currently trying to cut down, since his grandmother and a few circle members were nagging him about it.
When Jichang joined him on the balcony, Taesoo turned his head toward him, but he remained where he was, his arms draped over the balcony railing, his upper body bent slightly over it. A cigar in his right hand.
As a greeting, or simply to acknowledge and accept Jichang's presence, Ansan's rising king grumbled before his gaze drifted back to the front garden.
As Jichang took out his pack of cigarettes and placed it on the table, he glanced quickly into the same direction. There, he soon found what had caught Taesoo's attention. James sat beneath the only tree in the front garden, leaning against the old trunk and using his bent legs as a writing surface for his homework. He was just putting down his pen to take a new lollipop and unwrap it. The wrapper was yellow —apparently, James had run out of strawberry and cherry lollipops. But perhaps there was another strawberry lollipop hidden in his schoolbag, as he liked to save his favorite flavor for last. Not far from him, Byul was playing in the grass. A toy mouse moved along the path leading to the house. The mouse's movements were somewhat clumsy and uneven. The toy was covered in soft fur, and although Jichang had never found the switch to turn it on, its motor was clearly working. Gongseob had even joked that it worked as if by magic - or by an invisible hand. With no care in the world, Byul chased after the toy, swatting at it with her big paws.
“How many lollipops ... ?”
“The third since he started,” Taesoo replied, taking a drag on his cigar. His answer only prompted another question from Jichang: How long had Taesoo been smoking here? It was hard to say, as the porcelain plate they used as a trash can contained not only ash but also several used cigars and cigarettes of various brands.
“Are you still upset that I was also at Bukchon Hanok Village?”
Taesoo shrugged as if he didn't care, but Jichang could see him frowning.
Suppressing a sigh, Jichang stepped beside the stubborn man and blew the smoke into the air. Above the neighborhood rooftops, the sky was already beginning to turn red and gold. The light of the low sun made the roof tiles shimmer.
"I'm sorry."
Taesoo glanced at him almost suspiciously, as if he were expecting an explanation. And he was right. Jichang wasn't done yet. This was long overdue.
“I don’t mean that I’m sorry that I joined you guys for the day. James invited me, too. It’s not my fault that he didn’t mention it or that you got it wrong.” Jichang watched the smoke dissipate. He could almost feel Taesoo’s burning gaze on his skin.
“I’m sorry that I thought you were a bad influence.” Since their first meeting, prejudice had stood between them. Jichang had allowed this prejudice, along with his own dislike and arrogance, to guide his decisions. As if he had power and influence over James, as he did over his younger brothers, he had taken it upon himself to decide who James could associate with and who he couldn’t. Over the past few months, Taesoo had repeatedly proven Jichang wrong and shown him that Jichang had misjudged him. “And I’m sorry about how I threatened you.”
It took a moment, but then Taesoo took a deep breath and replied calmly.
“It’s okay.” Taesoo didn’t look at him, preferring to examine his cigar, but it was as if those words broke the underlying tension between them. “I know how I come across.”
It was his way of accepting the apology and thus bringing closure to their dispute.
Jichang chuckled, amused, his slight smile hidden behind the hand he had raised to his mouth to smoke. Fine. He could live with that.
Before he could change the subject or before they could decide to continue smoking in silence, they heard a shrill shout. James, the one called, looked up curiously, searching for the source of the noise. Gongseob appeared at the entrance to the property, the colors of his striking turquoise-blue sweater visible through the gate. Then, instead of opening the door like a normal person, he hopped over it.
“James! I got it!” Gongseob waved, something in his hand. From a distance, Jichang couldn't make out exactly what it was, but it looked suspiciously like a video game. “Let’s have some fun!”
Homework was forgotten. James put down his school books and notebook and jumped up to meet Gongseob.
Next to Jichang, Taesoo began to frown once more. Jichang didn't need a mirror to know they were both making similar faces.
“I was wrong,” Jichang muttered, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Gongseob is the bad influence.”
Taesoo grumbled in agreement.
**********
After the Beast of Ansan had been slain, news of Taesoo's victory spread like wildfire throughout the city. The power dynamics within Ansan's first generation shifted once again, or rather solidified, while Taesoo emerged as the ultimate threat. Siwon Kim's territory, or what remained of it, fell to Taesoo, while the turfs and gangs, who had only recently broken free from Siwon's yoke, grew nervous, even hostile. Tension was running high, and in recent days, Taesoo's circle had repeatedly repelled attacks and, in turn, conquered more territory.
This situation was less about Taesoo's victory over a previously superior opponent and rival for the throne, or even about the beast himself —who had already lost everything through his arrest —than about the heightened threat and the deepening power vacuum that the conflict between Taesoo and Black Wolf had further emphasized. If things continued this way, the other circles would unite against the looming threat to avoid falling under foreign control again or destroying Taesoo's circle before it could grow even larger and more powerful.
Every argument, every encounter, every glance or comment could escalate into a fight, if not a full-blown gang war. With each passing day, this invisible tension in the air grew until it was almost unbearable.
This situation had to end soon. Not only to prevent the city from being flooded with blood, but primarily because Taesoo lacked the time to deal with it. He had to commute between Ansan, Seoul, and the other cities, study hard for school, take care of his circle and turf, and, last but not least, manage his own club.
A hand landed on his upper back. Through the jacket of his gray school uniform, Taesoo felt the light pressure and warmth—and that was enough to bring Taesoo back to the present moment.
He blinked and looked over his shoulder at the man who had escorted him and was his entrance ticket to his destination. Yujun Jin smiled calmly at the teenager and then gently patted him on the back. “You’ve got this.”
The teenager just mumbled something in response, nervously fumbling for the smartphone in his pocket. The plan was set. Now he just had to carry out his part.
It was a large bar frequented by Ansan’s previous generation of gangsters. Their young successors and subordinates occasionally accompanied them. Today was one of these official meetings, where they brought along the gen 1 fighters. Up until now, Taesoo had shown no interest in these meetings, nor had he submitted to any of the old gangsters. He had only fought for himself. Only a few of Mister Jin's acquaintances knew about his connection to the young fighter who had been the talk of the town for days, even months. Taesoo had already clashed with and defeated some of the old gangsters, but there was a clear difference in skill level between small fries and a fist boss.
Taesoo's gaze wandered around the bar as Uranus walked over to one of the tables with a comfortable black seating area. He greeted a silver-haired man who was smoking. If Taesoo wasn't mistaken, the man in the dark gray suit was Siwon Kim's ‘mentor’, who had taken the beast in. Taesoo briefly felt the man's eyes on him before the light reflected off his glasses, and he turned back to Uranus.
The rest of the bar was already packed with gangsters of all ages, the faction clearly divided. Some of the teenagers and young adults hung out near the older gangsters, but mostly they kept to themselves.
This was the place where alliances were forged, information was gathered, negotiations were held, and the politics of the Ansan underworld were conducted.
That was why Taesoo was here, too. Until now, he hadn't been interested in it, nor had he considered it necessary, but given the current situation, he had no other choice. It was the easiest and quickest way to make it clear who claimed Ansan’s throne.
Taesoo strode through the bar, his gaze fixed on a specific spot, the center of the room. The first men of his generation had noticed and recognized him. His whispered name echoed through the air, eyes following him, boring into his back and creeping beneath his skin as if trying to flay him alive.
Calmly, he walked around the table that was in the center of the room, not far from the bar, and clearly visible from the entrance.
This space was filled with enemies. Countless bastards who would have loved to see him dead, or at least revel in his suffering.
For a moment, he wished his circle was with him, watching his back, but that would violate the rules of this place, which was considered neutral ground. Not that it would matter much after this night. However, it was something Taesoo had to do himself, as the leader of his circle. His circle members would have been only in the way of the plan’s second purpose —and easy targets for the old bastards.
"Get lost."
The table was occupied. A man his age looked up from his drink, annoyed, before recognizing Taesoo and turning pale. Usually, the annoying blowflies were more insolent and full of unworthy arrogance, but it was a stroke of luck that this guy was occupying the seat. Taesoo vaguely remembered his face. They'd fought before, and it had never ended well for the other circle Leader.
Almost fleeing, the coward made room for Taesoo and ran over to another table where even more familiar faces were gathered. Taesoo had defeated every one of them in the last months.
His suspicion and fear hadn't been wrong.
These insects were in the process of forming an alliance —but now, their target had appeared right in the middle of this conspiracy.
With his legs casually spread, Taesoo sank into the upholstered armchair. The chair creaked softly as more and more eyes turned to him. Unswerving, he picked up a bottle of rum and poured himself a glass. He noisily put the bottle back on the tabletop and took a swig. The alcohol burned in his throat. It wasn't even good rum, but perhaps Mister Jin was simply spoiling him too much with expensive things.
He didn’t have to wait very long for their reaction. Someone stood up, knocking their chair over and slamming their hands on the tabletop.
“How dare you?”
The din in the bar subsided. A young man turned to him, his face contorted with anger to the extent that Taesoo almost didn't recognize him. He and Mansu Yoo had clashed several times in the past, resulting in Yoo losing all his territories. It surprised Taesoo to see him in this distinguished gathering at all.
Taesoo vaguely remembered one of his circle members mentioning that Yoo had settled on the outskirts of Ansan, joined forces with an old gangster, and was now wreaking havoc there.
That Yoo still harbored resentment toward him was hardly surprising.
“You have no right to be here!” Yoo wasted no time. Perhaps he had grown stronger thanks to his new patron, but since he kept his distance from the embattled city center, Taesoo didn't expect much from him. “You're just a worthless stray!”
“I think I have more right to be here than you do,” Taesoo replied, eyeing the rum in his glass. “Probably more than most people here.”
“You fucking good-for-nothing! Who do you think you are?”
For Fuck’s sake. Yoo’s jarring and loud voice was getting on Taesoo’s nerves.
“The one with the most and best territories in his turf.”
Taesoo’s calm, confident, and direct answer silenced Yoo. It was amusing to see his mouth hanging open. He looked like a fish out of water, desperately gasping for air. Even his eyes seemed to bulge out of his little skull, and the vein at his temple looked as if it would burst at any second.
“If anyone thinks I don’t deserve to be here, they’re welcome to challenge me.” A smug grin spread across Taesoo’s lips. “But I doubt any of you could hold a candle to me.”
His words had the desired effect. Yoo charged at him, across the room.
Before Taesoo could remind Yoo of the disparity in their strength, a bolt of lightning shot from the entrance to his table. Taesoo saw a familiar back as someone stepped between him and his attacker.
Yoo didn't hesitate, blinded by rage, and raised his arm to remove the obstacle with a hook to the chin.
What followed was so fast it was almost impossible to follow with the eyes, but Taesoo had seen the sight so often that he could easily follow the rapid movements.
A flash of light. Blinding white with a hint of red.
A spin, elegant and controlled, followed by an effortless kick that carried an unusual amount of power, slamming the larger man in the chest and sending him flying across the room. Yoo crashed into an occupied table, and more of these vermin sprang up. The rest were still too surprised by the stranger's sudden appearance and entry into the fray to act, but Taesoo had no doubt they would soon be joining the battle as well.
Red hair peeped out from under a white cap. Black-tinted glasses covered the top of his face, but Taesoo would recognize him anywhere. The young man had forgone the jacket of his old school uniform, but the white shirt and brown trousers matched the mysterious phantom who, since arriving in Seoul, had terrorized the circles of various cities. In his right hand, he held a red lollipop, as much a part of his image as his school uniform and his speed.
The newcomer's lips curled into a distinctive grin, revealing a sharp fang. "Was that all?"
Groaning, Yoo struggled to his feet, alcohol soaking his clothes, and holding the spot where the attacker had struck him. When Yoo spoke, his voice was clearly distorted by pain, but no less grating to Taesoo's ears: "Who the fuck are you?"
The red lollipop touched James's lips before he calmly walked around the table and sat on the armrest of Taesoo's chair.
"Me?" James smiled at the attendees and tilted his head. "I'm the person you call the One Man Circle."
The shock of the revelation didn’t last long. Their reaction was swift.
As expected, the next gen 1 fighters attacked Taesoo and James—spurred on by Yoo and their own conflicts with Taesoo and the One Man Circle. They were all aware of the danger these two embodied, and they wanted to act before their enemies had the chance.
However, they would never reach either of them.
The first attacker crashed to the ground, crushed beneath a black boot, while Gongseob looked around with a broad grin, his black leather jacket draped over his right shoulder. Tables smashed, dishes shattered as two men were sent flying across the room by heavy blows, before a third guy was brought down by a powerful headbutt. The excited grin on Seokdu's face was almost unsettling, but those who knew him knew he was simply having fun.
“So many against just two people? How unfair.” A man in a cream-colored suit entered the bar, radiating elegance and confidence, before his flat hands sliced through the air, incapacitating several men at once, leaving the tiles looking as if they had been ripped open with a blade. Smiling, Jichang adjusted his glasses and looked around, eyeing the group of opponents who had faltered at the strangers' arrival and strength.
Gongseob strolled calmly over to Taesoo and James, threw his leather jacket over one of the empty chairs, and poured himself some soju. He nodded at Taesoo and then emptied his glass before letting out a "kiiiiii" and licking his lips. Gongseob seemed to enjoy the situation and the drinks. Taesoo remembered the boxer once saying that alcohol tasted best after a fight or sex—and at least they agreed on their fondness for good alcohol.
Seokdu moved to the other side of the table to shield the right side of the room, while Jichang took up a position in front of it and casually wiped his handblade with a handkerchief.
"You're even breaking the rules? Circle members aren't allowed here, and the punishment—"
"These bastards aren't my circle members." Taesoo snorted and took a sip of his drink as well. As if he cared about the rules of this place. He only followed them because it was more convenient for the plan.
“Wait, those snake eyes and this technique,” one of the voices grew louder, “That’s the fucking White Viper. The King of Seoul!”
“Wait—what is a regional king doing here?”
“It’s not only the White Viper…” another guy chimed in, as the tension in the air mounted. The air felt electric. “I know that fucker. That’s Gongseob Ji, the King of Daegu.”
After recognizing the known kings, distinguished by their techniques and appearances, eyes turned to the last unknown man, who adjusted his striped tie, unconcerned by the blood on his forehead or his monstrous fists.
“The headbutts, the scarred forehead, and this enormous build. Why is Seokdu Wang, the sadistic King of Suwon, in Ansan?”
James chuckled, savoring the shock of their opponents, before leaning towards Taesoo and whispering in his ear. “How long do you think it will take them to figure it out? Or should we go ahead and tell them?”
With a snort, Taesoo placed the glass back on the table and smiled at those present. His smile, however, lacked any friendliness. Just like his words. “I’m here to tell you that Ansan belongs to me, and whoever dares to attack my territory will pay for it.”
His arrogance and his calm, confident words were so effective that silence fell. Taesoo was right. It was a fact that the other gangsters of his generation could no longer ignore. A large part of the city was now under his control. Many smaller circles, which had no right to be at the gathering, were subservient to him. Taesoo was not only one of the biggest circle leaders in Ansan, but no one here could hold a candle to him—except for the other first generation kings and James.
They all knew that no one else deserved the title ‘king’ in Ansan.
And yet, he could see in their eyes, in their pissed-off faces, that they weren't going to accept it. They were all here, united to bring Taesoo to his knees, and his arrival had thwarted their plans.
“Furthermore…” Taesoo leaned back, bumping his shoulder against James accidentally. “…I’ve heard of a laughable rumor: an alliance to divide Ansan among you pushovers.” A grin flickered across his lips, and he felt the fear, panic, and anger in the bar rising with every word. For now, the old men remained calm, as this wasn’t their battleground, but if the situation turned out to be to their detriment, that would soon change. “Therefore, this evening is the perfect opportunity to introduce you to our alliance. An alliance between the kings of Ansan, Seoul, Daegu, and Suwon.”
A simple sentence, yet its meaning was so severe that even the old gangsters grew nervous, for they knew what such an alliance meant. An alliance that had never before existed between the cities.
An alliance, a romance, alien even to the pre-generation, threatening to destabilize the entire power structure of their time. Especially now that the king of the underworld, Gapryong Kim, had left the throne vacant to enter politics, the mood among the old men was restless.
“Who do you think you are, you little rats?” one of the old codgers roared, jumping to his feet, knocking over his drink, and spilling alcohol across the table. “Do you really think we’re going to allow this? Do you think you can intimidate us with your little alliance? We’ll tear you to pieces and fu—”
A loud noise echoed through the bar, making some of those present jump. All eyes turned to a certain point, drawn by the deep, charismatic voice that now spoke, shifting the attention and anger away from the King Alliance and onto a single man.
“If any of you interfere in the affairs of the first generation, you’ll have to deal with me.”
The honey-gold whiskey in the glass still shook from the hard impact, held firmly by a large hand. Fine cracks ran through the glass, and it was almost a miracle it hadn’t shattered, but the man knew how to assess and control his strength.
Mister Jin leaned back, his expression serious and his gaze stern, as if reprimanding a class of schoolchildren. Those who knew him knew it wasn’t an empty threat. It surprised the men of his generation all the more.
“Why the hell are you interfering, Uranus?” one of the old men snapped at him, next to him a circle boss who watched the group of kings with clenched fists. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with our war.”
“I don’t.” Slowly, Uranus let go of his glass and moved his fingers, making the rings shimmer in the light. “But I won’t let you all gang up on some teenagers because you feel offended.”
A few of the old men exchanged uneasy glances, knowing all too well how dangerous Yujun Jin could become when children and teenagers were involved. Some of them had experienced his sky-splitting fury firsthand. It was one of the lines you shouldn’t cross with him if you valued your life.
“You have no right to interfere. This is between us, our protégés, and this conceited upstart.”
Taesoo didn't know who had spoken those words, but they were met with murmurs of agreement and loud interjections. Uranus' intervention had unsettled those present, causing them to hesitate, since Uranus had never before interfered in the war of generations. They doubted he would seriously stand up for the foreign kings and a single teenager from Ansan.
Green-blue eyes turned to Taesoo and his friends before a smile flickered across Mister Jin's lips.
"The right you claim is also concerning me." Uranus' voice silenced the others effortlessly. It alone possessed such authority and allure that it was impossible to resist. They all, including Taesoo, froze as his boss continued to speak. "Taesoo Ma is under my protection. Not as a fighter, but as my potential successor for my business."
Taesoo blinked, momentarily unable to form a coherent thought.
Sure, Mister Jin had agreed to give him a chance and introduce him to the club business, but this was…
“So,” Uranus casually leaned an arm over the back of his chair and looked around, “if the kids want to fight with the King Alliance, go ahead, but if any of you old guys raise a hand against them, we’ve got a problem.”
In the seat opposite Uranus, Seong-Jin Sim stubbed out his cigarette and pushed his white hair back from his forehead.
“Furthermore…” the Mister Jin continued, as Seong-Jin Sim rose to his feet, his hands casually buried in the pockets of his gray trousers. One might have thought he’d be the first to attack Taesoo, given that Taesoo had injured Siwon Kim, but the posture Seong-Jin Sim adopted next to Uranus was cautionary. Whatever connected him to Uranus was stronger than the anger over his protégé's defeat by Taesoo. "...I will cease my business dealings with those who think they can interfere with the affairs of gen 1."
"Uranus, wait, what—"
A stir of unease and movement swept through the crowd. More gangsters rose to their feet. Jichang looked around, alarmed, supporting his handblade with his other hand. Seokdu, too, tensed, scanning the room warily.
But there was no need to act. The atmosphere in the room changed, but this time Taesoo wasn't the cause. The geezers who had previously been arrogant to Uranus now looked nervously around.
That's when Taesoo realized what was happening. The gangsters of the previous generation who had risen were making their allegiances clear. Some were fist bosses, others loners, and some he recognized as his boss' business partners. Suddenly, the balance of power in the room had shifted. And that was enough to make those who had previously wanted to interfere in the business of the adolecents fall back into their seats and retreated, some more quietly than others.
“But, boss—” hissed one of the circle leaders, whose name Taesoo didn't even remember. He only knew that he had broken his nose last week when he had infiltrated Taesoo's territory.
“Shut up,” the old gangster hissed back, gulping down his drink, annoyed by the sudden change in circumstances.
“Wow.” Gongseob whistled. His voice sounded almost impressed. “Your old man can be very persuasive, can’t he?”
Thereupon, James chuckled as he opened another lollipop and put the candy in his mouth. He refrained from commenting and instead nudged Taesoo’s shoulder with his own.
“No!” The teenager with the broken nose turned around and approached Taesoo, who was leaning back in his chair, raising an eyebrow, and not very impressed by the guy’s tantrum. “If we don’t stop this now, the entire balance of power between the cities will be in jeopardy! I’m not going to let some damned mutt take Ansan!”
Taesoo slowly stood up. James glanced at him questioningly, but when Taesoo raised his hand in a commanding gesture, he remained seated on the armrest. Even though Gongseob was sensing the danger, he stayed in his seat and saved his glass of alcohol instead.
Once again, shouts and protests erupted—this time, however, only from the other circle leaders. The older generation seemed to have decided to keep quiet and enjoy the show.
They all were getting on his nerves.
“Taesoo Ma, you bastard. Don’t think we’re just going to hand Ansan over to you, you fuc—”
Losing his patience, Taesoo’s fist slammed onto the table, splitting the solid wood and stone tabletop with a deafening crack.
“Then come on and fight me.” Taesoo proudly raised his clenched right fist. “Ansan is mine.”
Behind him, James laughed, filled with anticipation of the oncoming carnage—then all hell broke loose.
As night gave way to day and the sun poured its golden rays over the city, Ansan had found her first king.