The underground chamber fell into silence, the tension so sharp it could cut through steel.
Jaegyeon Na leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes fixed on Daniel. His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous weight behind it.
"Why did you come to Incheon? What does a man from Gwangseong want with us?"
Daniel leaned forward, his cold eyes sweeping across the Speed Faction elites. His voice was calm, deliberate, yet carried the weight of thunder.
"I'll tell you why I came to Incheon. Every detail."
They all stared at him as he continued, his words slicing through the stillness.
"The Dark Crocodile Society sees Gwangseong as easy prey. They think my king is just a boy, strong but not yet strong enough to withstand their numbers. Their plan is simple: first, they crush Gwangseong and raise their forces even higher. Then they move outward—capturing other territories, one by one—until the entire peninsula bends to their control. If a king accepts them, they'll absorb him. If not…" Daniel's eyes sharpened like daggers. "…they'll destroy him. And once Gwangseong falls, they'll turn their eyes to you, to the Speed Faction, and erase you completely."
His words hung in the air, heavy and merciless.
Jaegyeon's expression didn't change, but his voice was edged with suspicion as he asked,
"Then why doesn't your king strike them first? If he already knows this, why not move to crush them before they expand?"
Daniel tilted his head slightly, his smirk faint but cold.
"Because we don't yet have enough. Not enough resources, not enough soldiers. The Dark Society commands between three to five thousand men, most of them hardened Chinese from the mainland. My king may control two thousand, perhaps twenty-five hundred, but numbers alone don't win wars. Strategy does. And alliances."
Daniel's gaze settled firmly on Jaegyeon.
"That's why I am here. My king knows your history. He knows how Yujae Seon betrayed the Speed Faction, how he backstabbed your former king. And he knows how you've fought since then—small battles, efficient strikes, guerilla tactics. You've held them off, yes… but you cannot defeat them alone."
At that, Yeowool Ha finally spoke, her tone sharp but calm, her eyes like frozen glass.
"We don't need your help. We've been fighting for years, and we're still standing. Better without outsiders meddling."
Daniel chuckled—low, humorless, and mocking. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.
"Better? Tell me, Miss Yeowool, what's better about this?"
His eyes swept across the room, pinning each member with his words.
"You fight like ghosts—hit and run, guerilla skirmishes. But you can't face their full force. You hide, always in the shadows. And every time you hide, it's the Korean civilians of Incheon who pay the price. Look around this city—it's broken, burned, destroyed. Families displaced, businesses ruined. You don't have enough men, enough resources, enough stability to counterattack. Your pride may keep you alive, but it won't win you the war."
He leaned forward again, his tone razor-sharp.
"But if our factions join—your cunning and speed with our power and discipline—we can end them permanently. They may have more soldiers… but they lack warriors. And we? We lack soldiers, but we have warriors. Together, we balance. Together, we win."
Then Daniel's cold gaze locked onto Yeowool again, cutting like ice.
"Tell me, Miss Yeowool… what have you done since Yujae killed your father? What victories have you taken? What legacy have you reclaimed?"
The chamber turned deathly silent.
Then suddenly—
BANG!
Everyone flinched as Jaegyeon's palm slammed hard against the wooden table. The sound echoed through the underground chamber, rattling cups and papers. Slowly, Jaegyeon lifted his eyes to Daniel, his face calm but his gaze sharp as a blade.
When he spoke, his voice was low, cold, and dangerous.
"…Enough."
The weight of his fury filled the air like a storm about to break.
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