28: Incheon [3]
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The waves hit heavy against the concrete walls of Incheon Port, mist curling in the cloudy air. A low hum echoed across the water—then a massive boat cut through the fog and slowed to a halt, steel grinding against the dock.
Dark Crocodile members who had been patrolling the pier swarmed closer, eyes sharp, trying to get a look. Smoke and seawater hissed off the hull as the ramp slammed down with a metallic BANG.
Five figures stepped out.
Five Korean men. Three looked almost normal. The other two looked like fucking monsters.
The dock thugs finally saw them through the smoke.
Vasco came first, his vest stretched tight over swollen Muay Thai-trained muscles. His chest gleamed with sweat, scars cutting across him like war trophies.
Vin Jin followed, nothing under his loose jacket but raw, bulging muscle. His shades hid his eyes, but the weight of his presence pressed against everyone like a fist to the throat.
Hudson stepped down steady, sweater and jeans on, simple but solid. There was something dangerous simmering under that calm exterior.
Zack Lee? Clean. Formal. White shirt, tie, blazer, trousers—his every move sharp, his posture screaming control.
And last, Jay—the contrast. Yellow half-shirt, matching shorts, his golden hair sliding over his face. He looked like a boy on vacation, but his silence carried more weight than any of them.
As they stood on the dock, Zack glanced at Jay, fixing his cuffs.
"Hey, Jay. Give me my watch."
Jay looked at the emerald-embedded Rolex wrapped around his wrist. Without hesitation, he slipped it off and handed it over. Zack clasped it on, rolling his sleeves with a calm finality.
Vasco's eyes never left the Crocodile members. His voice cut low, cold.
"Vin Jin. Tell me again—why are we here?"
Vin Jin didn't even look at him, just at the crowd. His answer was flat.
"Honestly? I don't know."
Vasco tilted his head, stoic, unmoved.
"Then why the hell are you standing here?"
Vin Jin finally turned, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Someone said there's a yellow buzz-cut nigga here. Thought I'd see for myself."
Vasco blinked once, face stone.
"I heard the bastard who runs Busan is here. So I came to crush him."
Hudson shifted uneasily, his eyes flicking between the crowd and his so-called allies. The Crocodiles didn't bother him. It was the tension in his own crew that felt like a ticking bomb.
He leaned toward Zack.
"What's the plan? We fighting through tonight or crashing here? How the hell are we handling this?"
Zack slid one hand into his pocket, calm as ever.
"Relax. Don't worry."
The five finally stepped fully onto the dock, surrounded by at least twenty, maybe twenty-five Crocodiles. The air was thick, but the Allied didn't waver.
Vasco's fists tightened. Vin Jin rolled his shoulders, muscles flexing. But Zack raised his hand slightly.
"Not yet. We didn't come to fight you bastards. We're here to negotiate—with Yujae Seon."
The mob's expression shifted. The tension cracked, the pressure in the air loosening just a little.
Then one of them stepped forward—a bald man in his thirties, scar carved straight across his face like a knife slash. His voice was deep, heavy with suspicion.
"…Negotiate what?"
Zack's lips curled into a cool smile.
"I'm done acting like I'm too cool for words. Just take this message to your boss—"
His eyes locked onto the man, his voice dropping sharp and final.
"Backup has arrived."
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Next Chapter: Son of the Legend....
Author Note: Please Comment your thoughts.