The day had a strange stillness to it, one of those mornings where even the air seemed to be holding its breath. The trio arrived early at Skyfall Lounge, the shutters half-closed, the smell of cleaning alcohol still lingering from the night before. Usually the bar was loud, pulsing, warm. Today it felt like a waiting room before something important… or something dangerous.
Sang-ho paced near the counter, arms folded, foot tapping lightly, like he was expecting a door to burst open at any moment. Tae-min sat at the table with the ledger open in front of him, but he wasn't reading, he was staring. Thinking. Calculating. Soo-jin leaned against the doorway to the back office, arms tucked into his jacket sleeves, trying to hide the tension in his shoulders.
"Any minute now," Sang-ho muttered, glancing at the entrance.
They all assumed it would be Gang Du-ho, the loudest man in Gapyeong, a walking explosion. Sang-ho had even cracked his knuckles earlier, muttering something about how he missed bickering with the "oversized puppy."
So when a car rolled up quietly outside, the engine fading smoothly into a stop, the trio exchanged glances. No upbeat music, no yelling, no boots stomping on the ground.
This wasn't Du-ho.
A second later, the door pushed open gently, as if the person didn't want to disturb the dust floating through the calm room.
It was Lee Chan-il.
Tall, neat, tidy haircut, hands in his coat pockets. His eyes scanned the room like he was cataloguing objects in a museum, clinical, thorough, unimpressed. He stepped inside without taking off his shoes or asking permission.
Soo-jin straightened. Sang-ho raised an eyebrow. Tae-min shut the ledger.
Chan-il didn't waste a second.
"Where's the money?" he asked, voice soft but cold enough to sting.
Sang-ho gestured to the suitcase on the table with a flourish he didn't actually feel. "Right here, boss man."
Chan-il didn't acknowledge him. He simply walked over, crouched, unzipped the bag, lifted a stack, pressed it with his thumb, checked the edges like he could smell dishonesty.
Then he looked up.
"I want your ledger."
Sang-ho scoffed, offended. "That wasn't part of the arrangement. You said..."
"I said I want your ledger," Chan-il repeated, still calm, still cold. "Every month, I verify. That's how we keep things clean."
Tae-min slid it toward him without a word. Chan-il took it, skimmed the pages, flipping through numbers with the speed of someone who had been doing this for years. Every flip of paper sounded louder in the quiet room.
When he finished, he shut the book with a soft thud.
"If I count this and it doesn't match what's written here," he said, tapping the ledger, "I'll let Du-ho handle the consequences."
He zipped the bag shut, stood, and left without turning around.
The door clicked behind him.
For a moment there was silence.
Then Sang-ho exhaled through his teeth.
"Ohhh, this guy," he muttered, mocking Chan-il's stiff posture. "Comes in here looking like he's about to file taxes. Didn't even laugh at my joke."
"You didn't make one," Soo-jin said.
"Exactly! That's the joke."
Tae-min finally closed the ledger fully. "He's not the type who laughs."
Sang-ho leaned against the counter, finally letting some tension drain from his body. "Alright, strategist. When do we begin?"
Tae-min stared at the door one last time, then answered:
"Later this week."
Sang-ho straightened. Soo-jin looked up. The room shifted with purpose.
Tae-min finally stood, grabbing a sheet of paper he had been scribbling on for days. A rough map. Names of locations. Arrows. Crossed-out streets. Notes scribbled in margins.
Phase One.
"Okay," he said quietly. "We start slow. Very slow. If we rush, the Tigers will smell it. If we're too cautious, we lose momentum. So here's how it begins."
He placed the paper between them.
1. Establish the Shadow Network
"We start with the men Sang-ho recruited," Tae-min said, pointing at the names written on the left side. "Not for fighting yet. Not for territory. Just information."
Sang-ho nodded. "Eyes and ears."
"Exactly. They blend into crowds, bars, clubs, delivery routes, arcades, internet cafés, street corners near Namgye Station. No uniforms, no signs. Just regular people who know what to listen for."
Soo-jin asked, "Listening for what?"
"Patterns," Tae-min said. "Where Tigers move. Who they talk to. When they collect money. Who's unhappy under them. Who's scared. Who wants out. We create a map of pressure points. Every gang, no matter how powerful, bleeds information when things get comfortable."
"And they're comfortable now," Sang-ho murmured.
"Very."
2. Plant the First Seeds in Namgye
Tae-min drew a small circle around a neighboring district.
"Namgye is vulnerable. Tigers treat it like their backyard but their grip is sloppy. Too many small-time groups trying to survive under them. That means opportunity."
Soo-jin frowned. "You think they'll join us?"
"No," Tae-min said, shaking his head. "Not yet. They're not ready for war. They don't trust anyone. So we don't try to recruit them."
"What do we do?" Sang-ho asked.
"We help them. Quietly. Low-key. No flags. No announcements. When someone is getting squeezed too hard by the Tigers, one or two of our men step in, not as Skyfall, not as challengers. Just… help."
Sang-ho grinned. "Create debts."
"Not debts," Tae-min corrected. "Trust."
3. The False Calm
"This week," Tae-min said, "we do nothing aggressive. Nothing loud. Nothing that hints we're planning anything. Skyfall runs normally. You two joke around like usual. We act like the Tigers don't bother us."
"And behind the scenes?" Soo-jin asked.
"We build. Quietly. Carefully."
He tapped the map.
"And we watch."
4. The Bait
Sang-ho raised a brow. "Who's the bait?"
"Not us," Tae-min replied. "Not yet."
He circled a small alley behind a Namgye bar.
"The Tigers always send small groups to shake down certain shops. They're predictable. They've been predictable for years. I need to confirm it."
"How?" Soo-jin asked.
"One of our new recruits works part-time near there. He'll signal us when the Tigers come."
Sang-ho crossed his arms. "Signal for what?"
"For us to observe," Tae-min said plainly. "Not intervene. Not save anyone. Just watch. We need to see how they move, who leads their small crews, how disciplined they are."
Soo-jin tapped his fingers. "To find their weak link."
"Yes. The plan won't work unless we know who cracks first."
The trio sat in silence for a moment, taking in the weight of the preparation. Unlike the earlier chaos, unlike running from city to city or reacting to danger, this was different.
This was calculated.
Intentional.
A shift from survival to control.
Sang-ho broke the silence first with a low whistle. "You've been busy in that head of yours."
Tae-min shrugged. "We weren't going to win by muscle alone. We have to make the Tigers slip without realizing they slipped."
Soo-jin leaned forward. "And Phase Two?"
Tae-min folded the map. "Not yet. We focus on this first. If Phase One goes wrong, there won't be a Phase Two."
Sang-ho cracked a grin. "Alright then. Slow burn. I like it."
The three of them stood together in the quiet lounge, the sunlight from the half-closed shutters casting long, sharp shadows across the room.
The beginning steps were small.
Gentle.
Almost invisible.
But necessary.
Because in Haneul City, real wars didn't start with gunshots or declarations.
They started with whispers.
And this week, the whispers were about to begin.