On New Year's Eve, Seoul was brimming with life—its skies glowing with lights, streets echoing with laughter and the rhythms of music pouring out of bars and cafes. People flooded the city, dressed in their finest winter coats.
Friends gathered. Lovers exchanged gifts. Families huddled around warm meals. But amid all this celebration, there were those who chose not to partake—those who found solace in silence rather than noise.
In a narrow alley branching off a backstreet in Gangnam—where old posters peeled from grimy walls and slick cobblestones shimmered under faint streetlights—heavy punches shattered the cold night air.
"You're dead meat! I'm sending you to hell!" bellowed a bulky, tattooed thug with a swollen face as he charged forward, muscles trembling with rage.
The one he targeted stood still, calm, wearing a black hoodie that shadowed his features. He answered with a chilling monotone:
"Go ahead. Try me."
In an instant, the hoodie-wearing youth shifted slightly to the side, letting the thug crash headfirst into the brick wall like a wrecking ball with no aim.
The youth pulled down his hood, revealing his sharp, handsome face and long black hair—neatly brushed, if slightly unkempt. His tall frame and athletic build gave off an imposing presence, not that of a bully, but something colder—more detached.
He sighed, annoyed:
"All bark, no bite. You people keep shouting threats like broken records. Isn't there anyone out here who can actually back up their words? Pathetic."
Around him, bodies lay scattered—bruised, unconscious. All of them had charged at him, and all of them had fallen. Only the tattooed man still stood, barely, clutching his side.
"You're gonna regret this! You don't even know who our boss is!" the thug barked.
But the youth simply raised a brow.
"Don't care. If he's got a spine, let him come find me. Wait… was your name something like… So Blue?"
"It's Taeyon Su, you piece of shit!" the man growled.
The youth smirked faintly, though his eyes remained cold.
"You think I waste brain space remembering names like yours? People like you… You're the kind of filth society lets slip through the cracks. Every time I see trash like you, I feel like puking."
He took a step closer, his amber eyes sharp and eerily calm.
"And you want me to remember your name? What are you, a walking punishment? That's the worst joke I've heard all year."
Taeyon Su couldn't respond. The threat in the stranger's gaze wasn't bravado—it was fact.
Then came the command, quiet but firm:
"Go."
Taeyon blinked. "What?"
"Go tell your boss. I'll be waiting for him at the Han River," the youth said flatly. "Under Banpo Bridge. The old part—Jeonghwa Bridge. Midnight. If he doesn't show..." His voice dropped lower. "You know what'll happen to you."
Without another glance, the youth turned and walked off, stepping over the unconscious bodies like they were puddles.
Just as he reached the end of the alley, Taeyon found his voice again, shouting:
"Wait! What's your name?"
The youth paused, didn't turn back.
"Ji-Kai. Kim Ji-Kai. That's all you need to know. Now get lost—I'm sick of looking at you."
He pulled his hood back on and vanished into the shadows.
Taeyon stood frozen. His body ached, but it was the name echoing in his mind that unsettled him more: Kim Ji-Kai.
That name… it wasn't unfamiliar. He'd heard it before—and not in a good way.
---
Midnight crept closer. The streets of Seoul grew livelier with excitement and countdowns. But beneath Jeonghwa Bridge, silence reigned. There, Kim Ji-Kai stood alone, eyes fixed on the gently rippling waters of the Han River.
The wind tousled his long hair. Above him, the lights of the modern Banpo Bridge shimmered. Cars passed overhead, their sound distant, not enough to disturb the stillness below.
Then—footsteps.
Two faint panting sounds followed, and Ji-Kai slowly turned his head. A tall figure approached, dressed in layered black winterwear. His long hair was styled in an odd, asymmetric fashion, but it didn't lessen his aura in the slightest. On either side of him, two leashed dogs trotted in sync, the leashes clipped to his belt.
When he reached the railing, he tied the dogs up calmly, patted one on the head, then turned toward Ji-Kai.
"You're Kim Ji-Kai, right?" he asked in a composed, quiet voice.
"Depends on who's asking," Ji-Kai replied coldly.
"I'm the one your fat little errand boy sent."
The man let out a sigh. "Seriously… Did you really need to beat them up? They wouldn't shut up until I agreed to come deal with you. I don't even know why they call me their boss."
Ji-Kai remained silent, watching.
At first, he had assumed this guy was just some random passerby walking his dogs. But now… his posture, his presence—it was unmistakable.
"I heard you wanted a fight. Apparently, you're strong. They couldn't land a single hit on you," the man said, rolling his shoulders, loosening his arms.
"Should I set my expectations high?"
Ji-Kai responded by adjusting his sleeves, expression unchanged. "Why don't you find out yourself?"
Then his gaze sharpened, and he added with cool clarity:
"I doubt someone like you takes the opinions of the weak seriously… isn't that right, King of Dogs—Seong Jo Han?"