A loud siren blared through the prison facility.
Guards stormed into the dining hall, baton clenched tightly in their fists.
Food trays spun like shurikens, smashing into whatever stood in their way.
Chairs turned into weapons. Blood splattered across the floor in violent strokes. Prisoners in blue uniforms darted around the hall like madmen, blood bloomed on their clothes, bodies torn and bruised.
Amid the chaos, a prisoner strode toward the kitchen, calmly observing the scene he'd orchestrated.
His crew followed close behind.
"Boss, where are we going?" one of them asked, his hand covering his stomach, a red stain blooming on his fingers, his breath ragged.
"Just follow me," the boss said, striding past large steaming pots, his steps too steady and calm for the situation.
Out of nowhere, a guard stepped into their path, baton tapping against his thigh.
The crew halted, their breaths caught, and eyes flicked toward their boss.
For a beat, tension crackled in the air.
Then the guard's gaze shifted, and he gave a stiff nod. "Drevon, this way."
He turned sharply, boots echoing on the tiles.
The crew exchanged relieved glances, some baffled, but they had no choice but to follow their boss quietly.
The guard guided them through a dark hidden passage beneath the kitchen. At the end of it, a rope had already been secured to the outer wall.
One by one, they climbed the wall and dropped into a puddle below.
The howling wind and crashing thunder swallowed their rushing footsteps into a ghostly whisper.
"Yoo... boss, when did you grease that officer?" one of the gang members whispered, awe in his voice.
"Since before we needed him," Drevon replied, his gaze steady as he ran ahead. Even while talking, his eyes never ceased scanning the surroundings.
Another one gasped, "Wait... you planned this escape before we even got locked up?"
It had only been a month since they landed behind bars.
"Yeah," Drevon said casually. "Even before I met you." Breaking out of prison wasn't an accident for Drevon. It was part of the plan.
After all, you can't rule the underworld without first making your name infamous.
"This ain't an escape."
A flash of lightning split the sky, casting his face in flickering light. A smirk tugged uncontrollably at the corner of Drevon's lips.
"This is a damn reintroduction."
Drevon could feel the admiration radiating from his crew behind him. He didn't show it, but inside, he was beaming.
That look in their eyes—this feeling—that's what he had worked for.
Finally, it was his time.
He'd been chasing this dream for nine years now—training in martial arts and boxing, building connections, earning scars. Nobody took him seriously when he was a kid. They laughed in his face when he said he wanted to be a gangster.
Let's see who's laughing now.
Drevon slid back his wet hair while the smirk lingered on his face. The crew members were shocked by their boss's expression—they never expected this reaction from his usually stoic face.
Soon the wind faded and the rain stopped. Their steps came to a halt as a road came into view.
A car waited at the edge, just as planned.
Inhaling a fresh breath of wet soil, Drevon stepped onto the road.
But suddenly, a huge beam of white light burst down from the sky, engulfing him.
What? His body froze.
"Shit! Did they find us?!" one of the gang members shouted, scanning the sky.
But the light vanished as quickly as it had come.
And when they looked back down—
"WHERE'S THE BOSS?!"
Only a cold breeze and a floating leaf remained where their boss had stood just a second before.
---
"Everything is ready, Auren," a girl said as she wiped a sweaty strand of blonde hair from her forehead.
Auren nodded, adjusting his glasses, his eyes locked onto the magic circle drawn with blood on the wooden floor.
He checked its details using an old book in his hands.
The circle was intricate, every line sharp and deliberate, and at its center lay a small red stone, pulsing faintly.
Auren exhaled a tense breath. He looked at his two friends in the dimly lit room.
With a heavy heart, he spoke his mind. "We've made it this far. But you know the success rate for summoning a demon is less than five percent. Even if we're lucky enough to summon one... it won't end well for us."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"This is our last chance. If either of you wants to back out… don't hesitate... please," Auren said, his head lowered in shame. He was the one who'd come up with this stupid plan, yet they were still tagging along.
Maya and Rovek shook their heads with quiet determination.
Auren sighed and picked up the scroll from the ground. He unrolled it and looked at the strange markings etched on its surface.
"Here goes nothing."
As he poured mana into the scroll, the embedded magic activated. A glow spread through the room, illuminating their nervous faces.
The light vanished as quickly as it had come, and the scroll disintegrated into nothing. The trio stood frozen, eyes locked on the summoning circle.
A minute passed.
Nothing happened—not even a slight reaction.
Auren gritted his teeth.
"Guess it didn't work," he muttered, clenching his fists.
"I'm sorry… it's my fault," Maya said, looking down in embarrassment.
Rovek placed a palm on his forehead. His red hair, which was neatly tied behind him, shook with his head.
"Nah, stop it. It's none of our fault," he tried to console Maya—and himself.
"What the hell do we do now?" Auren's eyeballs bulged behind his glasses as his frustration boiled over.
He strode toward the circle, biting his lip, and stomped it hard. "This. Stupid. Summoning. Crap."
Maya rushed to stop him. She grabbed his hand and shouted, but Auren shoved her away.
"This is all because we're weak! This fucked-up world! I'd give my soul a hundred times over if it meant I could have power!" he shouted, standing on the circle.
As if in response, a red glow pulsed through the summoning lines. The marks linked together, the pattern coming to life and glowing with rising intensity.
Auren's eyes widened. He quickly adjusted his glasses and stumbled back, stepping away just in time.
A blinding red light erupted from the circle, forcing the trio to shield their eyes.
The crimson glow slowly faded as if drawn back into the circle, revealing a figure standing at the formation's center.
Their hearts pounded loudly in the silence.
As the light finally disappeared, their eyes locked onto the figure. The demon they had heard about was supposed to have sharp glowing horns and an ugly face with deadly canines bulging out.
But what stood in front of them was the complete opposite—a tall man with water dripping from his clothes. His imposing stature exuded authority, and his predatory grey eyes sharpened as he looked at them.
Auren removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
"Are you a demon?" Maya asked, her fist clenched tightly on her chest.
"Demon…?" The man's eyes met hers, and he slid his dripping hair back.
"You can think that."