Ji-hoon exited the building and stepped into the dimly lit streets. Dressed entirely in black, with a matching backpack, he moved with purpose. A car promptly pulled up, and he slid into the back seat.
Behind the wheel was Hae-rin, a girl who still looked like a teenager. In the passenger seat sat the handsome Min-jun, casually biting into an apple. Beside Ji-hoon in the back was the stout Jun-u, happily munching on a slice of watermelon.
Low, intense music filled the car—the kind you'd hear in an action movie. The moment Ji-hoon's door closed, Hae-rin slammed the accelerator, sending the car speeding down the road.
"Bro," Min-jun began, glancing back, "why do you always carry that old bag? The boss gives us proper, sharp weapons. Why are you still using that chain?"
Hae-rin chuckled from the driver's seat. "You just don't get it, pretty boy. You can't understand how Big Bro feels after a kill with that chain. I think he enjoys it, huh!"
"Will you two shut up?" grunted Jun-u, his mouth still full. "Bro came straight here without lunch. You should be offering him food." He then tried to hand Ji-hoon his half-eaten watermelon.
Ji-hoon remained silent, ignoring them all.
"Enough, guys," Hae-rin said, her tone turning serious. "Bro, do you know the mission details?"
Ji-hoon simply replied, "No."
Min-jun handed a paper file over his shoulder. Ji-hoon took it and opened it. Inside was the name of a single target—a 50-year-old man, a secretary for MVS Pvt. Ltd. The file contained details about a hotel. The man had become a threat to Ji-hoon's boss for unspecified reasons, and Ji-hoon's task was to eliminate him.
Hae-rin drove them swiftly to the target's hotel. They dropped Ji-hoon off, and he entered alone. He booked a room on the first floor, Room 132, because his target was directly above, in Room 108.
After a quick dinner in his room, Ji-hoon prepared his chain. To his surprise, the links made no sound against each other; it was completely silent. He moved to his balcony, scaled the wall with practiced ease, and slipped through the window of Room 108.
The target was inside. Ji-hoon sat on a sofa and swung his chain. All that could be heard was a faint, choked gurgle and the sound of blood spraying onto the bedsheets. Calmly, Ji-hoon wiped his chain clean with the blanket and left the way he had come.
He returned to his room, cleaned his face with a cleansing mask, and headed downstairs. The black car was waiting at the entrance. When he got in, he found Hae-rin struggling to keep her eyes open at the wheel. Min-jun and Jun-u in the back were completely drunk.
Ji-hoon's eyes turned cold with disappointment. He got out, walked to the driver's side, and pulled Hae-rin out of the car. After looking at the vehicle in disgust, he took the driver's seat himself.
He started the engine, and the car roared to life, speeding down a deserted road until it stopped at a secluded, seemingly abandoned house. He parked, grabbed his bag in one hand and a drowsy Hae-rin with the other, and walked to the front door.
Instead of searching for a key, he delivered a powerful kick that shattered the lock. He carried Hae-rin inside, tucked her into a bed, and ensured she was asleep. Then he returned to the car, hauled Min-jun over his shoulder, and dragged Jun-u inside by his leg.
He unceremoniously dumped them both in the lobby, closed the door, and walked away, seeking solitude on the terrace, where he stared into the night sky until morning.
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The next day, they all gathered around a table in the hall for breakfast. Min-jun turned on the TV. A major news broadcast was on—a world leader was announcing bizarre, unbelievable news. As they listened, shock settled on their faces. The report was about a message delivered by an angel.
Jun-u was buzzing with excitement. Ji-hoon watched calmly, though internally, he was thrilled. The news consumed the entire day.
By the next day, the entire planet was in an uproar. A proclamation had been made: millions of youths aged 13 to 25 would be transported to a "Fantasy Arena." Ji-hoon was 20, Jun-u was 22, Min-jun was 18, and Hae-rin was 17. They were all eligible.
All across the globe, angels created thousands of shimmering gates leading to this arena. The group of friends was electrified by the prospect. Social media was flooded with nothing else.
Ji-hoon's boss gave him a bag of cash as an advance. Resources were suddenly being provided freely to all young people worldwide. Students and young workers abandoned their duties. Many, acting foolishly, flocked to gyms and started martial arts classes.
But Ji-hoon and his team were smarter. He began rigorous sword mastery training. His friends followed suit—Jun-u began tank training, Min-jun specialized in close-combat fighting, and Hae-rin dedicated herself to archery. Together, they trained as a complete party.
They had only 20 days before the gates opened. They used every single one, pushing their limits. It felt like they were preparing for an impending disaster. Their hard work paid off; after eighteen days, even Jun-u had transformed into a formidable figure, and Ji-hoon had become an exceptionally skilled swordsman.
At midnight on the final day, the roar of a motorcycle broke the silence. Hae-rin ran to the gate, shouting, "The boss is here!"
A man in a sleek black outfit, looking every bit the hero, dismounted. In his hand, he held a long, formidable dual-bladed sword. His name was Hyun Tae.
Hae-rin ran and hugged him tightly. Jun-u looked at him with indifference. Ji-hoon offered a quiet, "Hello." Min-jun, however, pointedly ignored him, treating him like a fool.
This blatant disrespect ignited Hyun's anger. He strode purposefully toward Min-jun, his dual blades glinting. Seeing this, Min-jun suddenly dashed out of the house and into the garden, heading straight for a large, low-hanging branch.
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