The air inside the warehouse was thick with sweat and blood.
Bodies littered the cracked concrete floor—groaning, twitching, some too broken to move at all. The once-feared Dog Pound was nothing more than a whimpering heap, their snarls silenced into pathetic gasps.
At the center of it all stood Seong Min.
His chest rose and fell steadily, though his knuckles were raw, split open, dripping crimson that wasn't entirely his. He flexed his fingers once, shaking off the sting. The silence afterward was heavy, oppressive.
No one dared move.
A pipe clattered as one of the gang members dropped it, his swollen fingers unable to grip anymore. Another whimpered, clutching a fractured arm.
Seong Min's violet-tinged gaze swept across them, sharp and merciless.
"Pathetic," he said flatly, his voice carrying through the wreckage. "Dogs who bark until someone kicks the cage open."
The closest thug flinched, forcing his broken lips into words. "P-please… we—we get it. You're stronger. Just… stop."
Seong Min crouched in front of him, his shadow swallowing the boy whole. "Stronger? That's not enough. Strong fades. Fear doesn't."
The thug swallowed hard, trembling as Seong Min tilted his head. "You want me to stop? Then answer me."
He grabbed the boy by the hair, jerking his face upward. Violet flickered in his eye again, sharp and unrelenting.
"How does Dog Pound make its money?"
The boy choked, eyes darting to his fallen crew. "I-I can't—"
Seong Min's fist slammed into the concrete beside his head, shattering it into dust. The boy screamed.
"You can." His voice was calm. Cold. "Talk. Or I'll break what's left of you."
The dam burst.
"G-gambling dens! We run them for cash! We—w-we do collections, too, for the backer!" His words spilled out in a rush, panicked and wet with tears. "Street taxes, protection fees—anything! It all goes up to him!"
Seong Min's eyes narrowed. "'Him.'"
The boy nodded frantically. "Our backer. We—we don't even say his name. He's… he's not someone we can touch."
A ripple of fear passed through the battered gang. Even broken, their eyes filled with dread at the thought of their benefactor.
Seong Min released the boy's hair, letting him crumple back down. His voice dropped into something lower, heavier.
"Then listen carefully. From this moment on—your gambling, your collections, your dirty money—it's mine. Your crew?" His violet gaze swept across the ruined Dog Pound, each pair of trembling eyes meeting his. "Mine. If you breathe, you breathe because I allow it."
Silence.
Then, slowly, one by one, battered bodies bowed. Broken bones scraped the floor as they lowered themselves, heads pressed down, voices hoarse with submission.
"Yes…""We—we understand…""Y-you're the boss now…"
Fear had finally devoured pride.
Seong Min straightened, dusting blood from his hands, satisfied. His voice was quiet, but it carried finality. "Good. Dogs should know their master."
The warehouse fell into silence again—until another voice cut through, calm and cold.
"You really did it."
Seong Min didn't need to turn. He already knew who it was.
Crystal Choi stepped from the shadows, her coat trailing faintly behind her, heels clicking against the broken floor. Her attendants weren't with her this time. She had come alone.
Her eyes swept across the devastation—shattered bones, blood-stained concrete, men who once prowled like wolves now reduced to crawling at Seong Min's feet.
Dog Pound. Gone.
"It wasn't a rumor, then," she said quietly. "You took them. Crushed them. Made them yours."
"It wasn't hard," Seong Min replied, his tone almost dismissive.
Crystal's gaze sharpened. "Do you even realize what you've done?"
He finally turned, violet flickering faintly in his eye as he met her stare. "And if I do?"
Her lips curved slightly—not a smile, but something colder. "Then you're either reckless… or you're declaring war."
The words lingered like smoke.
Seong Min tilted his head, studying her. "War against who? They're just mutts who needed a leash."
Crystal took another step forward, the light catching in her hair, her expression unreadable. "Mutts with an owner."
The battered gang behind Seong Min flinched at the word. Owner.
Crystal's voice lowered, dangerous in its calmness. "Dog Pound weren't free agents. They were assets. Their money, their reach—it all flowed upward. You didn't just crush a gang, Seong Min. You stole from someone far bigger."
Seong Min's jaw tightened faintly. "…Who?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Their backer isn't some random thug in the alleys. He's one of the First Generation. A monster who was feared before Gun even grew teeth."
The words hit heavier than fists.
Even the broken Dog Pound members groaned in fear, their eyes widening at the title. First Generation.
But Seong Min… he didn't flinch.
Instead, a smirk tugged at his lips. "Then let him come."
Crystal's composure wavered just a fraction—not visible to the crawling dogs behind him, but Seong Min's Insight caught it. Her pulse quickened. Her breath hitched for a beat too long.
He stepped closer, violet burning faintly in the dim warehouse light. "I'll live true to myself. To my desires. If the First Generation wants to test me…" His voice dropped lower, colder. "…I'll answer."
Crystal stared at him, unblinking. For the first time in years, she felt something unfamiliar coil in her chest—not fear, not annoyance, but something far more dangerous.
Intrigue.
"You talk like a man digging his own grave," she said softly.
Seong Min's smirk sharpened. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm the one burying everyone else."
The tension between them crackled like static. Neither moved, neither looked away. But Crystal's thoughts churned. Her father would call Seong Min reckless, a liability. He'd say uncontrolled pieces should be discarded.
And yet, here she was—lingering, listening, watching. Drawn in against her own logic.
She exhaled slowly, breaking the silence. "Then prepare yourself. The First Generation doesn't forgive thieves. If you want to hold what you've taken, you'll bleed for it."
She turned to leave, her coat swaying behind her. But her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering in them.
Seong Min watched her go, his smirk fading into something colder, more resolved.
"…Let them come."
Far away, in a dimly lit room, a figure sat in silence. His features were swallowed in shadow, only the faint gleam of his cigarette ember revealing him.
A trembling voice reported from the floor. "Sir… Dog Pound. They're finished. Taken by… someone new."
Silence.
The shadowed man exhaled, smoke curling into the dark.
"…Interesting."
His tone wasn't angry. It wasn't alarmed. It was something far worse.
Amused.
And the game board shifted once more
End of Chapter 12