The night after the massacre, Incheon could not sleep.
Every street, every alley, every broken-down restaurant whispered the same name.
Cheon Ma.
Some whispered it like a savior. Others like a curse. But no one denied it anymore. A storm had arrived in their city.
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🐉 Speed Faction's Dilemma
Inside their hidden base, the Speed Faction sat in silence. The usual confidence and banter were gone, replaced with unease.
Sung clenched his fists.
"This… this guy. He's insane. Did you see how he butchered five hundred men like they were nothing?!"
Boknam shivered slightly. "I… I felt it. His presence. That wasn't just fighting. That was slaughter. And the way he smiled—like he enjoyed it. Like a demon let loose."
Roy slammed his hand on the table. "But he saved us. He saved those kids. The people. Without him, we'd all be dead."
Yeowool, quiet until now, looked at Jaegyeon. Her eyes were sharp.
"Jaegyeon. He's more than we thought. Too much, maybe. The people already whisper his name like a legend. Even more than ours."
Sebastian crossed his arms, his voice low.
"I fought him once. Gave him everything I had. He shrugged it off and crushed me. Back then, I thought he was just another freak. Now… now I know. He's a monster."
All eyes turned to Jaegyeon. He sat in silence, his hands folded, his face unreadable. Finally, he spoke, calm but heavy.
"Cheon Ma… dangerous doesn't even begin to describe him. He's like a dragon. If we stand by him, we rise. If we stand against him, we burn."
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🦂 The Arrival of the Reinforcements
Meanwhile, far from the whispers of Incheon, the docks trembled under the weight of giants.
Cargo ships from China rolled in under the cover of night. Containers clanged as they were lowered to the port, but these were not carrying goods. They carried soldiers—mercenaries and killers dressed in black, marching in rows like machines.
At the front, a group of terrifying figures stepped out, their presence alone enough to silence the harbor.
Qin "The Iron Wall" Wei – a massive man with skin scarred like stone, said to be impervious to blades.
Liang "The Ghost" Zhang – a thin, sharp-eyed killer whose movements were so fast and silent, victims often never saw their death.
Han Long – a monk-turned-enforcer, wielding iron beads and brutal martial arts, infamous in Shanghai's underground.
Jiang "Butcher" Feng – carrying a cleaver the size of a sword, known for carving rivals alive.
At their head walked a man draped in a long coat, cigarette glowing faintly in the dark. His gaze was sharp, his aura suffocating.
Zhao Chen, the Dragon of Shanghai.
One of China's most feared underworld generals.
Yu Jae Seon bowed as he welcomed them onto Korean soil.
"Welcome, honored brothers. The Crocodile King awaits you. Incheon awaits your fury."
Zhao Chen exhaled smoke, his voice calm, cold, and final.
"Then show me this Cheon Ma. If he truly exists, I'll cut the wings off your dragon before he ever takes flight."
The reinforcements had arrived. The game was no longer Incheon's alone.
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