Han Do-yun had walked half a block before he slowed his pace. He glanced back over his shoulder, and watched the distant figures of Han Joon-seong and Lee Hye-jin standing together outside the restaurant. They were talking. Exchanging phone numbers, by the look of it. The girl was clutching her phone to her chest. The man was looking down at her with that same tander calm smile.
A small, cold smile crossed Han Do-yun's lips. 'Going exactly as I planned. He really does like that girl.' He turned away and resumed walking, his hands sliding into his pockets. 'If I can keep them attached to each other, I can use her as leverage. I already have all her personal information, her address, her family, her school records. If he ever becomes a problem, she becomes the leash.' The smile lingered. 'Everything is proceeding exactly as intended.'
He turned down a side street, narrower and quieter than the main thoroughfare. Parked against the curb was a black sedan, its engine idling, its windows dark. Han Do-yun approached the rear door, opened it, and slid inside.
The interior smelled of leather and something faintly metallic. Before he had even settled into the seat, a voice spoke from the front.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Han Do-yun. Finished with your business?"
Han Do-yun nodded, fastening his seatbelt. "Yes. It's done."
"Where to, then?"
"For now, back to my apartment. I still have documents to finish."
"Understood." The driver did not move. The car remained in park. "And this business you were attending to — if I may ask, what was it about? You seemed to spend quite a while in that restaurant."
Han Do-yun's eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror, noticing it was facing the other way. Odd.
"Nothing important," Han Do-yun said. "A potential recruit. He turned us down."
"A recruit?" The driver tilted his head. "Anyone I might know?"
"No one of consequence."
"Still, it's unusual for you to handle recruitment personally. I was under the impression that sort of thing fell to lower-level members. What made this one special?"
Han Do-yun's jaw tightened. "He had potential."
"Potential," the driver repeated, as if tasting the word. "Interesting. And the girl? She was with you as well. Is she connected to this recruit?"
Han Do-yun didn't answer immediately. The questions just kept comming, odd, not many members had the courage to direct word to him in the Gang, with good reason too, each one was prodding at the edges of his patience. "She was collateral. Part of the negotiation."
"Collateral. I see." A pause. "And the outcome? You said he turned you down. That must be disappointing."
"It was."
"Will you pursue him further? It seems unlike you to let talent slip away so easily. Perhaps I could — "
"You haven't started the car yet."
The driver stopped mid-sentence. Han Do-yun leaned forward, his voice dropping into something cold and sharp.
"You haven't even put your hands on the wheel. Why don't you stop asking questions and start driving?"
There was a beat of silence. Then the driver let out a small, sheepish laugh. "Ah. Yes. My apologies, Mr. Han Do-yun. I forgot myself. I was just curious about what you were doing. It won't happen again."
But something was wrong. Han Do-yun's eyes narrowed. He studied the driver's hands, which were resting limply on the wheel — no tension, no grip either, they were simply draped over the leather. His gaze traveled upward, and he leaned further forward, peering around the headrest to get a clear look at the driver's face.
The man's face was a ruin. Bruises bloomed across his cheeks and jaw in shades of purple and black. His nose was broken, flattened and crooked. One eye was swollen completely shut, and the other stared blankly ahead, unfocused, unblinking. Dried blood crusted his lips and chin. He looked like he had been beaten within an inch of his life.
And on his neck, affixed to the skin with surgical tape, was a small, black speaker. A red light blinked steadily on its side.
The speaker crackled. "I only wanted to check on what a fellow executive was doing in this part of the city."
Han Do-yun's expression didn't change, but his eyes fixed on the speaker. "Kang Dae-hyun."
A burst of static laughter erupted from the device. "Ah! Caught! Busted! Found out!" The voice was deep and rich, full of theatrical delight. "Oh, what a pity. I was hoping to keep the game going a little longer. Your driver was so obliging, too. Very chatty, once we got to know each other."
The laughter swelled, filling the car with its harsh, metallic echo. Kang Dae-hyun's voice was unmistakable, one of the executives of the Kkachi-pa, a cruel man who used spankings as a form of art, and treated gang politics as a personal amusement. Han Do-yun waited until the laughter subsided.
"What do you want, Kang Dae-hyun? Why are you bothering me here?"
The speaker crackled again, the voice taking on a mock-wounded tone. "Bothering you? I already told you. I'm just checking in on a fellow executive. Is that so wrong? After all, we need to stay united, don't we? To maintain the balance between the three gangs of Busan. Solidarity, cooperation, all that lovely rhetoric."
The irony in his voice was thick enough to choke on. He wasn't even trying to sound sincere.
Han Do-yun stared at the speaker. "Is that so," he said, his voice flat. "How good. How very, very good. I'm deeply grateful that you care so much about our gang."
"Right?" Kang Dae-hyun's voice brightened with mock cheer. "I'm such a charitable colleague. Truly incredible. An example to us all." Another burst of laughter, louder this time, scraping against the edges of the speaker's tiny diaphragm.
Han Do-yun didn't respond. He reached forward, and calmly wrapped his hand around the speaker. His fingers closed over the device, and the laughter cut off with a sharp crackle of static as the casing crumpled in his grip. He held it for a moment longer, feeling the broken components grind together in his palm, then let the crushed remains drop onto the lap of the driver.
He sat back. His face was still calm, but behind his eyes, calculations were already unfolding. 'It seems the calm is about to end.' He exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment settling over him like a cold mist. 'In this line of work, nothing stays stable for long. One small stone thrown into the ocean, and ripples start to spread. And now those ripples are turning into a wave that's going to swallow Busan back into chaos.*
He looked at the slumped, unconscious figure of his driver — the man's chest was still rising and falling, at least, but he was in no condition to operate a vehicle. The steering wheel sat unattended. The engine still hummed.
Han Do-yun sighed. "And I'm going to have to call a taxi." What a terrible day.
---
Han Joon-seong jogged home through the amber glow of the early evening. The streets were quieter now, the afternoon crowds thinning as the city shifted toward its nightly rhythm. His pace was steady, breath controlled, like routine, just how Auto Pilot guided. Somewhere in the flow of it, a soft chime registered in Ervin's awareness.
[[System]
[Speed has gained experience (11/80)]]
One more point! Every little bit counted.
By the time he reached his apartment, a light sheen of sweat covered his skin. He stepped inside, locked the door behind him, and headed straight for the shower. The hot water washed away the day. When he emerged, towel draped over his shoulders, the apartment was quiet and still.
He sat down at the desk and turned on his PC. The screen blinked to life, casting pale light across his face.
'What were the names of those gangs again?'
The thought had barely formed before Han Joon-seong's hands moved on their own. The Auto Pilot tapping into the body's own brain, pulled up a search engine and typed the first name: Juhwang-pa.
The search results were sparse. A few local forum posts, vague complaints about "loan pressure" near the university, a scattering of anonymous comments. But no major news outlets. No investigative pieces. No scandals splashed across front pages. For an organization that allegedly held stakes in businesses across the city, the Juhwang-pa left a remarkably faint footprint.
He tried the second name: Galsaek-pa. Same pattern. Old market district, whispers of protection money, a brief mention in a community board thread from three years ago. Nothing from any reputable source.
The third name: Kkachi-pa. The results were identical. Was it muted? Or were they sanitizing the drama? Had the city's media collectively agreed not to notice them? But one result stood out. It wasn't a news article. It was a website, clean and professional, with a domain that suggested financial services. Busan Credit Solutions. The logo was innocuous, the layout polished. But the name had appeared in the search results for a gang, and that was enough to make Ervin click.
He scanned the site. Loan applications. Interest rate tables. A contact form. Nothing obviously criminal. But something about the security certificates looked off— the encryption badge in the corner was an image, not a live link. The payment gateway redirected to a domain that didn't match the company name. Small inconsistencies, the kind your everyday person wouldn't notice unless they were looking for them.
'Credit card fraud,' Ervin realized. 'Or something like it. They're running some kind of financial scam.'
He powered the PC off and sat back in the chair. The silence of the apartment pressed in around him.
The city was full of gangs. Not just street thugs, but organized, entrenched, woven into the economic fabric of Busan. And he had just told one of their executives that he wasn't interested in joining. Politely, yes. But the message had been delivered.
Although many adored neutrality, in situations like this having no sides was actually the worst option of all. In a city carved up between three organizations, a man with no affiliation was a man with no protection. He would be a loose piece on the board, and loose pieces got removed. If he wanted to survive — let alone thrive — he needed to choose a side.
He didn't want to be a criminal. That was already decided and absolute, a line he could not bring himself to cross. But Han Do-yun's offer wasn't asking him to join the gang. It was contract work. External. And if he understood correctly, he wouldn't be shaking down innocent people. He would be going after troublemakers. People who deserved it. People who had borrowed money and refused to pay, people who were criminals themselves..... probably.
He picked up his phone. Han Do-yun's number was still there, written on the napkin he had transferred to his contacts. He stared at it for a long moment, then locked the screen and set the phone aside.
Not tonight. He would wait a few days. See if there were any repercussions from what had already happened. Let the dust settle.
He stood up, crossed the room, and lay down on the bed. The command to sleep passed from Ervin to Han Joon-seong. The body's eyes closed. The breathing evened out. The world went dark.
And then the interface flickered to life.
[[System]
Player: Ervin Mandor
Character 1; Han Joon-seong
[Characteristics:
Adaptation(Perfect)
Talent(Perfect)
Auto Pilot(Perfect)
Money(Perfect|Middle-class)
Looks(Lvl. 5)
Speed(Lvl. 4)(10/80)
Strength (Lvl. 4)(22/80)
Endurance (Lvl. 5)(42/160)
Vigor (Lvl. 5)(10/160)
Intelligence (Lvl. 3)(5/40)
[Tasks:
None]]
A second window appeared.
[Day Finished, awarded points [291 Points]]
Ervin read the number and did the quick mental subtraction. Two hundred and twenty-six points carried over from before, two hundred and ninety-one now. He had gained sixty-five points today. The mission — making peace with Han Do-yun, had paid fifty. The remaining fifteen came from the day's training, a modest reward for the jog home and the reading. Not a huge haul, but it added up.
The store materialized.
[[Showing Store]
[Strengthening pills:
Looks — [SOLD OUT]
Speed
Strength
Endurance
Vigor
Intelligence
Cost: 30 points each
Description: Strengthening Pills Level up a Characteristic by 1 when consumed]
[Weakening Pills:
Speed
Strength
Endurance
Vigor
Intelligence
Cost: 20 Points each
Description: Weakening Pills Decrease a Characteristic by 1 for 24h when consumed]
[Fight Styles:
Street Dog Fighting Style - 150 Points
Kickboxing Fight Style - 150 Points
Boxing Fight Style - 150 Points
Karate Fight Style - 150 points
Muay Thai Fight Style - 150 Points
Taekwondo Fight Style - 150 Points
[...]]
[Misc:
Character File - 250 points.
Recovery Pill - 100
Characteristic Card - 200]
And then, a new prompt appeared beneath the store.
[[Tasks Available:
[Street Policing — End the Contraband Market in Sangdo-dong. Reward — 200 Points]]