The week began with a shift in the air, like the city of Haneul itself was watching.
Skyfall Lounge kept its usual rhythm, but behind the curtains, behind the normal laughter and fights and clattering chips, a different machine was beginning to turn. The plan was simple in words, brutal in execution:
Recruit. Build. Prepare.
And the man to do it wasn't Tae-min.
It wasn't Soo-jin.
It was Sang-ho.
It had always been him.
He was the natural leader, the one who brought Tae-min into the underworld, the one who understood the language of criminals, chaotic, prideful, unpredictable. He didn't need a script or a threat. His charisma alone was gravity. People moved toward him because he made the dark feel familiar. He made danger feel like a career.
So, Monday night, when the lounge closed, Sang-ho flicked away a cigarette and said:
"Alright. Time to build an army."
And then he walked straight into the belly of Haneul.
Haneul: Week 1
Recruiting in Haneul wasn't like recruiting anywhere else. The city was a hive of buzzing, stinging factions, small gangs, freelancers, drifters, fighters who couldn't stay loyal to anyone because loyalty got you killed.
Sang-ho moved through it silently.
Not with a crew.
Not with a car.
Not with flashy declarations or intimidation.
He slipped through alleys, bars, and underground gyms like a ghost with a purpose.
He watched people.
He observed who picked fights and who ended them.
Who backed down and who stepped forward.
Who watched before they acted.
His eyes were sharp, surgical.
He wasn't looking for muscle.
He was looking for potential.
On the third night, he approached a tattooed man shadowboxing behind a gym. The guy glared at him, fists ready.
"You looking for trouble?" the man growled.
"No," Sang-ho answered, hands in pockets, voice calm. "I'm looking for someone who knows what to do when trouble finds them."
The man blinked. His guard lowered.
That was how Sang-ho operated: words like hooks, charisma like bait.
By the end of Week 1, he had recruited six men. Not many, because he didn't take "just anyone." He selected them like weapons. Each one had a role.
Namgye: Week 2
If Haneul was a wild forest, Namgye was a military academy. The gangs there were disciplined, structured, and far more cautious. They didn't take orders easily.
But Sang-ho adapted.
He didn't come as a recruiter. He came as a businessman. A negotiator. Someone offering money, stability, and opportunities that the local gangs pretended not to need but desperately did.
He found foot soldiers who hated their superiors.
Lookouts who were tired of being underpaid.
Fighters who wanted more glory than their bosses allowed.
It wasn't numbers he wanted.
It was reliability.
And Namgye provided just that.
Still, it was slow. Every conversation took patience. Every prospect had to be handled carefully.
Some nights, he came back to the apartment exhausted, collapsing onto the couch beside a silent Tae-min and a worried Soo-jin.
Soo-jin asked once, "How many today?"
Sang-ho took a long drag of his cigarette.
"Three."
"Only three?"
"Three good ones," he replied. "I'd rather have three blades than thirty toothpicks."
Haneul Again: Week 3
The Tigers were active this week. Their men moved in bigger groups, their SUVs appeared more often, and the city felt heavier, as if the Tigers sensed something in the streets but couldn't name it yet.
This made Sang-ho even more careful.
He avoided the Tigers' hotspots, used side streets, and wore a different jacket every day. His movements were unpredictable, his meetings subtle. He never stayed in one place for more than a few minutes.
Recruiting under pressure made him sharper.
He found men who were desperate, hungry, or simply fearless. One night he recruited a former MMA fighter who had broken his coach's jaw over unpaid winnings. Another night he found a quiet night-shift worker who knew the city's alleys better than anyone.
They weren't perfect, but they weren't meant to be. They just needed to be useful.
And they were.
Namgye: Week 4
The final week was the hardest.
Namgye was calm on the surface, but tension lurked beneath. The Tigers had made an enemy in the north a few months ago, and rumors were spreading that retaliation might be coming.
This meant fewer men were willing to change loyalties.
But Sang-ho persisted.
He found a trio of brothers, lean, sharp-eyed, silent. They worked together flawlessly, moved like a unit, communicated without words. They were exactly what a strategist would want.
He found a driver who knew every road between Haneul and Namgye and could evade police at will.
He found a hacker who owed money to half the city and was willing to work if it meant protection.
Every night, Sang-ho returned to the apartment with another piece of the puzzle.
And every night, Tae-min quietly added each name to a growing list, the start of their shadow network.
The Completion
After four long weeks, one cold evening, the three men sat in the Skyfall Lounge office. It was quiet inside, only the hum of lights and distant sounds of the street outside.
Sang-ho dropped a folder onto the desk.
"That's it," he said. "Haneul. Namgye. Together we've got eighteen men we can count on. Maybe enough to execute the first phase."
Soo-jin whistled. "Eighteen? In one month?"
Tae-min leaned forward, flipping through the folder.
The faces were a mix, calm, chaotic, violent, desperate.
But all useful.
He nodded slowly. "It's enough."
Sang-ho smirked. "Enough to make the Tigers nervous."
Soo-jin cracked his neck. "Enough to take the first step."
Tae-min closed the folder. His long hair hung over his eyes as he spoke:
"Good. Because the Tigers are coming back for month two's money."
The room went still.
Because that meant one thing:
The real game was about to begin.