The underground clinic felt quieter than it had any right to be. The metallic scent of antiseptic hung in the air, mixing with the faint hum of old fluorescent lights that flickered every few seconds. Tae-min sat on the edge of the treatment bed, shirt half-buttoned, ribs still throbbing beneath fresh bandages. Vlad paced slowly in the corner, testing the mobility of his shoulder with a grimace. Sang-ho leaned against the wall, staring at the floor with a blank expression, the weight of exhaustion settling heavy in his eyes.
Soo-jin was the only one still, arms folded, breathing in slow controlled intervals, until his phone buzzed.
The vibration cut through the silence like a blade.
He picked it up casually at first.
"Yeah?"
But then his face changed entirely.
Color drained from his cheeks. His pupils widened. His breathing spiked.
The others noticed immediately. Tae-min turned toward him, brow furrowing. Sang-ho straightened. Vlad stopped pacing.
"Soo-jin?" Sang-ho asked.
"What happened?"
Soo-jin raised a hand to silence them, trying, failing, to keep his voice steady.
"What do you mean everyone…? Slow down, slow down."
His fingers tightened around the phone. His jaw slackened as if disbelief physically loosened it.
He swallowed hard.
"You're the only one left?"
A pause.
A long, suffocating pause.
Then a single sharp sound came through the phone, the unmistakable crack of a gun being fired.
Soo-jin flinched. The call cut.
Silence swallowed the room again, thicker and heavier than before.
He lowered the phone, staring at it like it had burned him.
Tae-min took a step toward him. "What happened?"
Soo-jin shook his head slowly, eyes unfocused.
"My entire crew…" His voice trembled. "All of them. Wiped out. In an hour."
Vlad's brows pulled together. "Gwon Tae-sik's men?"
Soo-jin looked up, and what they saw in his eyes chilled them far more than the news itself.
"No." His voice was barely above a whisper.
"The caller said it wasn't Tae-sik."
He exhaled shakily.
"It was Chairman Seo's men."
The room froze.
Sang-ho's eyes sharpened instantly.
Tae-min felt a drop in his gut.
Vlad muttered something under his breath in Russian.
Before any of them could respond, Sang-ho's phone rang.
Unknown caller.
The timing made everyone tense.
Sang-ho hesitated for a single beat before he picked up.
The line was quiet for half a second.
Then a smooth, controlled voice filled the room.
"Sang-ho. I trust your recovery is going well."
Chairman Seo.
Sang-ho stiffened, but he forced his tone to remain flat.
"You've been busy, Chairman."
Seo chuckled softly, almost politely.
"It's a shame I had to dispose of such a competent crew."
Soo-jin tensed like he'd just been stabbed.
Seo continued, casual as rain:
"By the way… I stopped by your café."
Sang-ho froze.
The others held their breath.
"It's ashes now," Seo added, still perfectly calm.
"And the barista working there… well."
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Sang-ho's hand trembled. His throat tightened. For a moment, his vision blurred, anger was about to consume him.
That was exactly what Seo wanted, a blind response, a reckless attack, a mistake.
The realization cut through the rage like ice water.
Sang-ho inhaled slowly.
Then said:
"Go to hell."
He hung up before Seo could reply.
The phone slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor.
No one spoke for several long seconds.
The silence was loud with grief, rage, confusion, fear, all of it layered and tangled.
Then Vlad's phone rang.
He didn't hesitate. He put the call on speaker immediately, almost as if expecting the worst.
A burst of chaotic noise came through, muffled yelling, crashing sounds, distant shouts. But beneath all the chaos came the calm, steady voice of an older man speaking Russian.
Vlad's uncle.
The man's tone was soft, almost comforting despite the turmoil surrounding him. He said only a few sentences.
Then the call ended abruptly.
Not with a gunshot.
Not with a scream.
Just silence.
Vlad's face didn't move. But something inside him shifted, a dark heaviness settling behind his eyes.
Sang-ho asked him what his uncle said since he didn't underground Russian.
"He said I should get out of Nampo as soon as possible." Said Vlad.
Tae-min swallowed.
He spoke quietly:
"He didn't tell you to run."
Vlad didn't respond.
Tae-min continued, voice low:
"He told you to kill Chairman Seo."
Vlad remained silent. His jaw tightened. His fists clenched slowly at his sides.
Soo-jin and Sang-ho exchanged looks, a mixture of fear and resignation. They understood that Vlad's world had just collapsed in the span of a single phone call.
The four sat in heavy stillness for nearly a minute, the walls of the underground clinic suddenly feeling smaller, tighter, suffocating.
Then Tae-min frowned.
"Where's the doctor?"
They hadn't seen him since he finished patching Tae-min's ribs.
Soo-jin glanced toward the hallway.
Vlad moved closer to the wall, listening.
A sound reached them, faint but unmistakable.
Engines.
Multiple.
Stopping right outside the clinic.
Tires crunching gravel.
Car doors opening.
Sang-ho whispered sharply:
"We're compromised."
Tae-min nodded. "The doctor must've called them."
There was no time to argue, no time to panic.
Just movement.
Fast.
They grabbed what they could, jackets, bags, weapons. Vlad pulled the stitches at his shoulder but didn't even flinch.
Soo-jin led the way down a narrow hallway he'd spotted earlier, pushing open a rusted metal door at the back of the clinic.
Cold night air rushed in.
Footsteps echoed from the front entrance.
Voices.
The unmistakable sound of someone forcing the main door open.
Sang-ho hissed, "Go!"
They slipped out into the alley, keeping low as they sprinted past dumpsters and darkened back walls. Tae-min glanced back just once, silhouettes were entering the clinic.
They didn't have seconds to spare.
They reached the street. Sang-ho's car was parked two blocks down, hidden beneath a burnt-out streetlight. They piled inside, Vlad in the passenger seat, Tae-min and Soo-jin in the back.
Sang-ho turned the key.
The engine sputtered.
Coughed.
Then roared to life.
He drove.
Fast.
None of them said anything for several minutes as the city blurred past, bright signs, empty streets, late-night vendors closing shop, the cold gleam of wet pavement.
Finally, Tae-min stared out the window and whispered:
"What now?"
No one answered.
There was no plan.
No allies.
No safe house.
No backup.
Just the four of them against the most powerful man in Nampo, a man who had already proven that wiping out entire crews, burning businesses, and tearing down lives meant nothing to him.
Sang-ho kept his eyes on the road, jaw clenched, the streetlights flashing across his face like silent warnings.
Soo-jin's hands trembled slightly, though he hid them in his lap.
Vlad sat perfectly still, eyes forward, mind somewhere much darker.
Tae-min closed his eyes.
The night outside felt vast, infinite and empty.
Whatever came next, they were far past the point of turning back.