The convoy ate the highway alive—four black Spirras slicing through traffic, engines howling, speed limits left bleeding in the rearview.
Windows down, the night air was sharp against skin; laughter spilled from the other cars, wild and reckless, but Zean sat quiet in the back seat, eyes fixed on the blur of neon and asphalt racing past.
Sixty-nine days. That's how long it had been since he opened his eyes in this world.
And now… less than four months before Jinrang kills the King of Busan.
His fingers tapped against the leather armrest.
'I pulled every executive out of Gwangju and Suncheon. Left the cities thin, exposed. If they were going to move, it should've been—'
The thought cut short.
His phone vibrated.
the contact read "head lackey"
Zean answered, lips curving upwards in an amused , yet faint, smile. "The kings attacked, didn't they?"
The voice on the other end shook. "Y-Yes, sir. The kings from the surrounding regions, they formed an alliance. They're hitting us from every direction. There are too many of them but their troops are weaker than ours so we were holding out fine but..."
"But the kings themselves joined in." Zean continued his words for him, his voice filled with amusement.
"Correct. A few minutes ago. That's why I had to call—we were able to deal with the regular troops and and executives but the kings are too strong."
Zean's gaze flicked out the window, then forward. "Which regions?"
"Naju, Yeosu, and Damyang," came the hurried reply.
"You did well. Tell our men to not die until we get there and focus on keeping the civilians safe."
He cut the line, already typing a mass message to the cars following in formation. Then, to the driver: "they took the bait. We're heading back to Gwangju." He said before sending the same message to the other cars.
"…Understood, Young Master." Jung Hwan's grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles whitening as he wrenched the Spirra into a screaming U-turn.
Once, Jung Hwan Do had been the strongest name in Jeollanam-do, feared across alleys and backstreets. But against three kings at once, even he would've thought twice before acting.
But that was before Zean came.
Now, after Zean's brutal training, his body carried something else entirely. A sharp, unbearable confidence. The kind of conviction that made him think, for the first time, that he could call himself someone on the same level as the infamous five kings.
---
Gwangju — Zean's House
"So the regional kings are attacking Gwangju." Mia crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "What does that have to do with me?"
"I'm sorry, Ms. Mia." The Head Lackey—Joo Il Nam—spoke low, urgent. "The situation is dire and we don't know what might happen. We had direct orders from young master Zean to protect civilians and that includes you."
Her lips parted as if to argue, but Il Nam was already steering her out the door. Within seconds they were in a sedan, tires screeching against pavement.
As they sped through narrow streets, Mia started realising the severity of the situation from the many bodies of unconscious men lying on the roads and pavements.
The ride was short, silent. It didn't take long before they arrived at their destination.
They reached a squat building at Suncheon's edge. The kind of place no one looked at twice. Il Nam guided her down a narrow stairwell, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, until they reached a steel door scarred with scratches.
He spun three locks and dragged it open, only to reveal the massive expanse of space where many old couples and young and middle aged women were calmly chatting and playing with their kids before leading her inside and closing the giant door behind them.
"this is..." Mia said, her voice, unable to even begin to describe the sight.
Il Nam paused, before clearing his throat. "This is one of many safe bunkers built in Incheon and Suncheon for our men's families. Young master Zean ordered us to use old underground storage spaces to build it in case of wars to protect the weak and ensure that everyone's family is his family as long as they're out there fighting.
Mia quickly regained her calm and started asking about why are the kings attacking
Il Nam smiled. "Young master Zean expected them to come. He purposely cleared both cities of executives to leave it vulnerable." He said while giving her a small bottle of water.
"I have to go now, if young master Zean sees our men all bloodied while I'm perfectly fine he'll most likely break my bones." He said with a chuckle before adding "don't worry miss Mia, young master is coming with his men to Gwangju, it won't take long for them to arrive and clear this situation."
"You also don't have to worry much, this place is safe so just relax until one of young master's executives comes to open the door." He said before leaving.
---
Central Gwangju — Zean's Main Base
The street was a graveyard.
Broken weapons, cracked helmets, bodies stacked like discarded mannequins. In the middle of it, two men stood on a low hill of unconscious lackeys, their silhouettes framed by the sick glow of a flickering streetlamp.
Tae Lim, King of Naju, cracked open a canned drink from a dented vending machine and gulped it down, sweat stinging his eyes. "What the hell is that kid feeding his lackeys?" he muttered. "Every one of them fights like our weakest executives."
Beside him, Sung Hwan—the King of Damyang—smoked in silence, eyes calculating, every inhale and exhale a metronome of thought. Finally, he spoke, voice flat. "We should give up."
Tae Lim spun, fury flaring. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I didn't take you for a cowa—"
The glare Sung Hwan cut him with shut him up instantly. Cold. Razor-edged.
"This isn't cowardice. It's numbers. Math." Ash fell from his cigarette, glowing on the asphalt. "Our spies gave us half-truths. We thought we were walking into a nest. It's a fortress. They were outnumbered three-to-one and still erased our men—including our executives. If the regular lackeys can do this without a leader present… what happens when his executives arrive? When he arrives?"
realisation dawned on Tae Lim as Sung Hwan's words fell. Strategy wasn't his domain, but Sung Hwan's mind was legendary—Jeollanam-do's own Jichang Kwak. If even he saw no path—
"…Heh." Tae Lim's shoulders twitched. "Haha… HAHAHAHA!" The laugh went jagged, manic, echoing off the walls before dying in his throat. He collapsed onto the curb, drink still in hand. "You should've just said it straight. We're royally fucked."
Sung Hwan sat beside him, wordlessly offering his cigarette. Smoke mingled with the stink of blood and oil.
Footsteps dragged on broken concrete.
Lee Sungmin, King of Yeosu, stumbled into view, limping, face bruised, eyes burning with rage. "Fuck you, Sung Hwan. 'Easy,' you said. No executives, no king, you said." He dropped down beside them, breathing hard, bitterness sharp in his voice. "Their lackeys alone wiped us out."
The three kings sat in silence, surrounded by the groans of their fallen men. For a brief moment, Jeollanam-do's so-called rulers looked less like monarchs and more like weary soldiers who knew the war was already lost.
Then came the engines.
Low at first. Then louder. Louder. Until the whole street shook.
Four black Spirras cut through the night, headlights slicing across the battlefield. They wove around bodies with surgical precision before halting in perfect formation at the foot of the hill.
The kings tensed.
Doors clicked open in unison.
Figures stepped out—shadows resolving into faces carved into Jeollanam-do's underworld like scripture.
Jung Hwan Do, cold and sharp-eyed, standing like a soldier awaiting orders. Lee Han, standing right beside him, eyes filled with determination and his presence radiating a charismatic aura—the same aura that allowed him to rule Mokpo.
The other executives from Suncheon, Gwangju and the few that tagged along from Mokpo were standing behind them.
And at the front—Zean.
Sunglasses tilted, city lights glinting off the lenses. He didn't need to say a word. His presence alone pressed down like a weight on the air, like gravity shifting against their lungs.
In that single moment, the same realization cut through three different minds.
We're fucked.