Minho stepped out of the alleyway. He didn't need to check his bank balance again. The number was carved into his mind. It was more than enough. Enough to clear the mountain of debt. Enough to finally, finally, give his mother a life without constant worry. A life where she could smile without the shadow of a loan shark's threat darkening her eyes.
"Just a little more," he muttered to himself.
In an abandoned underground subway miles away, a sound like a thunderclap echoed. Sung Jinwoo stared at his fist, then at the shattered remains of a high-grade training dummy.
"Still too much," he murmured, flexing his hand. His new body, the vessel of the Shadow Monarch, was a masterpiece of power, but it was like trying to channel an elephant through a mouse hole. The raw strength of his true form threatened to tear this younger body apart if he wasn't careful. Every movement had to be measured, every ounce of power carefully metered.
In the far corner, perched on a bench, Beru sniffled loudly. A tablet was propped in his hands, the brightness of the screen reflecting in his large, glistening eyes. He was watching a K-drama.
"My King," Beru whimpered, wiping a tear with the back of his claw. "The noble sacrifice… it is too beautiful. Why must love be so painful?"
Jinwoo stared at him blankly and turned to Igris who was standing across him. He didn't bother answering.
"Igris." Jinwoo called and the shadow knight nodded. Igris embedded his sword on the ground and took a fighting stance.
Across Korea, a news was spreading faster than a wild fire.
The news anchor's voice was laced with barely concealed panic. "—and still no explanation from the government. The entire ant population on Jeju Island has… vanished. Not a single monster remains. Military sweeps confirm it. The island is, for the first time in years, completely clear."
In his office, Chairman Go Gun-Hee steepled his fingers, a deep frown on his face. Could it have been The Breaker? He had no way of knowing that the mere existence of the Shadow Monarch in this timeline was a force. One forcing the world to recalibrate itself to maintain balance.
Across the ocean, in China, Liu Zhigang watched the same report. Then he watched another - grainy, shaky footage of a mist-shrouded figure emerging from an A-rank Gate. The Breaker. He made a decision instantly. "Prepare my jet," he told an aide. "I'm going to Korea."
Back at Minho's house
"You've grown so much, Minho," his mother said, her voice soft as she straightened the collar of his jacket. She tried to hide the worry in her eyes, but he saw it. He always did. It was the same look she'd had since he was a boy, only now it was tinged with something new… a confusion that bordered on fear. She'd seen the news. Her son, her gentle Minho, was different. Taller. Broader. His eyes, once so open, were now slits and that was deeply unsettling. What could the world have been doing to him?
"I'm just eating well, Mom," he lied smoothly, keeping his voice even. He gave her a small, practiced smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I have to go out. I'll be back for dinner."
The smile she gave him in return was fragile. "Be safe."
The door clicked shut behind him, and her smile vanished, replaced by a silent prayer. "Please be safe, Minho."
An underground gambling hub
The office was exactly as Minho had envisioned: cheap cigar smoke, the scent of whiskey, and the oppressive aura of greed. His father, Lee Joon-ho, looked up from his desk, a ledger open in front of him. His eyes widened a fraction, a flicker of surprise before returning to a smug familiarity.
"Well, can I say I don't believe my eyes now?" Joon-ho leaned back in his leather chair, which creaked in protest. "Your mother always said you were all grown up. Didn't expect… this." He gestured vaguely at Minho's frame. "To what do I owe the pleasure? She send you to beg for more time?"
Minho said nothing. He simply walked forward and dropped a heavy duffel bag onto the desk with a solid thud.
Joon-ho's eyebrows rose. He unzipped the bag. His smirk faltered, replaced by genuine shock as he saw the neatly stacked bundles of cash inside. It was more than the debt. Much more.
"Wha…What's this?" he asked, his voice losing edge.
"The principal. The interest. All of it," Minho's voice was flat. "You will not call her. You will not visit her. You will not even think her name. We're done."
For a moment, his father just stared at the money. Then, the smug returned. He zipped the bag back up and pulled it closer, a glint in his eye. "An E-rank, she said… But an E-rank hunter shouldn't be able to get this kind of money. Your mother must be working herself to the bone for y—"
"Do not speak of her." Minho cut him off.
Joon-ho chuckled. "So, tell me where you got the money from? You took your pathetic self to steal? Or did you…finally sell yourself?"
Minho remained quiet.
His father leaned forward. "What's with the silence? Tch. You're both useless after all. You and that mo—"
CRACK!
Minho's palm slammed down on the desk. The sound was explosive. A web of fractures spread out from under his hand before the entire section of the desk collapsed inwards.
Joon-ho flinched back violently, his chair rolling back. The smirk was gone, replaced by fear. He looked up into his son's face.
Minho's eyes glowed with a faint crimson light. The air around him grew cold and heavy. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Lee Joon-ho," Minho said, emphasizing every syllable. "Do. Not. Test. My patience."
The office door burst open. Two of his father's hulking bodyguards rushed in, hands reaching for concealed weapons. "Boss! Everything alr—?"
They stopped dead. They saw the shattered desk. The terror on their boss's face. The young man standing over him, whose mere presence felt like a brewing natural disaster.
Minho didn't even look at them. He held his father's gaze for a second longer, then turned and walked towards the door. The two men scrambled out of his way, pressing themselves against the doorframe. He passed between them without a glance and was gone.
Silence settled in the office. One of the bodyguards finally spoke. "Boss… what was that? Who was that?"
Lee Joon-ho didn't answer immediately. He stared at the empty doorway, his initial fear slowly fading. His hand, which had been trembling, stilled. A slow smirk spread across his face, devoid of any warmth or fatherly pride.
He looked down at the duffel bag of money, then back towards the door his Minho had just exited.
His eyes glinted, a sharp, predatory yellow.
"So," he whispered, the word a venomous hiss. "You're The Breaker."