27: Incheon [2]
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Daniel Park's POV – Incheon Underground Base
The basement stank of rust and damp concrete. Dim light flickered overhead, shadows stretching long across the walls.
Big Daniel lay passed out on an old mattress, chest rising and falling slow, like a giant hibernating. The others—Jaegyeon Na, Jegal, Sebastian, Yeowool and Roy—were awake, tense, eyes darting at every creak of the pipes. None of them trusted this silence.
Sung Jegal broke it.
Leaning back against the cracked wall, he smirked, his voice smooth but sharp.
"So, Small Daniel… when the fuck is your help coming?"
Daniel stayed quiet, lost in thought. His mind flashed back to the last time he'd been cornered, face-to-face with that fucking Scissor Maniac doctor. The way he barely survived, the way he crawled through it.
Jegal waved a hand in front of his face.
"Hello… Daniel? You hearing me, or you still jerking off to your trauma?"
Daniel's eyes cut toward him. His voice came out low, tired.
"What?"
Jegal's grin widened. He leaned forward.
"When's your help coming? And more important—how the fuck are they getting here?"
The others shifted, looking at Daniel like his answer would decide if they lived or died tonight.
Daniel exhaled, jaw tightening.
"They'll come soon. I already talked to them."
Jegal narrowed his eyes.
"And…?"
Daniel looked away, staring at the cracked floor, then muttered:
"They're coming through a boat."
The room fell quiet. Sebastian and Roy exchanged a look, their shoulders sagging like they'd finally gotten something to cling to. Jaegyeon gave a small nod. Jegal just chuckled, half mocking, half amused, tapping his fingers against his knee.
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Somewhere Else – The Sea
The ocean was black under the clouding sky even though it was broad day time, the waves crashing hard. A huge boat cut through the water like a blade splitting open flesh, engines growling against the current.
One driver sat in the control room, steering steady. On deck, five figures stood against the wind. Allies. Monsters. Heroes.
One of them leaned over the railing, puking into the sea. His long hair whipped around, his facial hair matted with sweat. Two scars slashed across his face, his body carved from years of brutal conditioning. He looked like hell, but his frame screamed strength.
Vasco, the Hero.
Two others were deep in conversation.
One had golden hair spiked upward, his right hand wrapped tight and hardened from years of blows. He wore a sea suit, expression serious, eyes locked forward.
Hudson – the Sun of Ansan.
Next to him stood a shirtless man, long dark hair covering half his face. A thick pair of black glasses clung to his nose. His body was a fortress of muscle, veins pulsing under his skin.
Vin Jin – the Monster.
At the center of the deck, two men sat like they were on vacation, sipping cold orange juice from cans.
The first had styled black hair, perfectly parted. A graceful, almost untouchable look etched into his face. Gucci beach shirt fluttered open, shorts resting casual on his legs.
Zack Lee – the Iron Bell.
Next to him lounged a boy who looked less dangerous than anyone else on the boat. But appearances lied. Earrings glinted in both ears, golden hair falling to half-cover his eyes. His wrist carried an emerald-embedded Rolex, his clothes custom Gucci and Balenciaga—a yellow cropped T-shirt with matching shorts. Calm. Silent. Watching.
Jay – the Dream Boy.
The wind howled. The boat tore through the waves. Vasco lifted his head, face pale, lips dry, voice rasping.
"When.... do we reach…?"
Zack glanced at him, lips curling into a calm smile.
"Get ready, everyone," he said softly, but his words cut sharp through the roar of the sea. "Next stop… is where we rise."
The boat didn't slow. It only tore faster through the black water.
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