The tension was palpable in the air as Ji-hoon sat silently in the dimly lit room, his fingers tapping restlessly against the wooden surface in front of him. His mind was still a storm of anger, regret, and overwhelming determination. The truth had already begun to take shape—every piece of the puzzle falling into place, showing the grotesque reality that had been hidden from him for so long. And in the midst of it all, there was one person who stood out as a symbol of everything Ji-hoon loathed. One person who had been a constant in the shadows, manipulating events, and pulling strings without a hint of remorse. Baek Chan-gyu.
The very name sent a wave of fury through Ji-hoon, his fists tightening involuntarily at the thought of the man who had so effortlessly inserted himself into his mother's life—and his own—like a parasite. Baek Chan-gyu had been a rival, someone who had always stayed in the periphery, never quite a threat, but always there, lurking. But now, Ji-hoon knew the truth. Baek Chan-gyu had never been just a rival. He had been a participant in the plot that led to his mother's death, and in the wake of that knowledge, Ji-hoon's hatred for him grew deeper, darker.
Ji-hoon could still remember the way Baek Chan-gyu had looked at him through the years—a cold smile on his face, always pretending to be nothing more than a friendly rival. They had competed against each other in their shared love for music, for performance, but it had always felt off. The smiles were hollow, the gestures laced with an edge that Ji-hoon had never been able to place. And now, as the pieces of the past slotted into place, he understood why. Baek Chan-gyu had never been interested in friendship or competition. He had only been interested in controlling the narrative, bending it to suit his own twisted needs.
The door creaked open, interrupting his thoughts, and Ji-hoon's attention snapped to the figure that stepped into the room. It was Seo Joon-won, his longtime friend and confidant, though lately, Ji-hoon couldn't help but wonder if Joon-won understood the depths to which this darkness had swallowed him. There was something different in his eyes now—something worn, something more knowing than before.
Joon-won closed the door behind him and stood still for a moment, his gaze falling on Ji-hoon with a heaviness that seemed to match his own. "I've got news," Joon-won said, his voice steady but tinged with concern.
Ji-hoon's lips tightened, a slight frown pulling at the edges of his mouth. "I'm listening."
Joon-won hesitated for a second, his fingers brushing against his sleeve before he spoke again. "Chan-gyu's been making moves. He's... tied into everything. The deals, the connections. The people who helped orchestrate your mother's death... he's one of them. He's been working in the shadows for years, pulling strings, making sure everything fell into place. And you... you were never meant to find out."
The weight of Joon-won's words landed like a brick on Ji-hoon's chest. He had suspected it—had felt the unease in his gut when he thought of Baek Chan-gyu—but to hear it confirmed was another thing entirely. The man who had always seemed like little more than an annoying, arrogant rival had been so deeply involved in his mother's murder. The idea of it sickened him.
"How deep does it go?" Ji-hoon's voice was low, his expression cold as ice. The fire inside him wasn't just burning—it was consuming him from the inside out. Every fiber of his being longed for retribution. Chan-gyu had taken his mother, and now, Ji-hoon was ready to take everything from him.
"Very deep," Joon-won replied, his words deliberate. "He's been pulling strings with people you've never even met. High-profile individuals. Everyone thought he was just a musician. Just a rival. But that's far from the truth. He's built a network, and it's one that's dangerously intertwined with your mother's death. And now... he's starting to make his move again. I don't think he ever stopped."
Ji-hoon stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. His anger flared, a visible tremor running through him as he walked toward the window, his gaze fixed on the dark horizon. "He's not getting away with this," he said, the words heavy with fury.
"I know," Joon-won replied quietly. "But Ji-hoon, you need to be careful. Baek Chan-gyu is dangerous in ways you don't even understand. He's not just a rival anymore. He's a threat to everything you've been working for—and more importantly, he's not afraid to destroy you if it means getting what he wants."
Ji-hoon's fingers curled into fists at his sides. His jaw clenched as the weight of Joon-won's warning settled in. But the truth of it only pushed him further. He wasn't afraid of the danger. What could be worse than what he had already lost? What could possibly terrify him more than the hollow ache in his chest, the loss of his mother, the shattered pieces of his soul?
Ji-hoon slowly turned to face his friend, his eyes sharp and unwavering. "I don't care about the danger. I'm done running. Done hiding. I'm going to end this. I'm going to end him."
Joon-won's eyes softened, and he sighed, shaking his head. "I don't want to lose you to this, Ji-hoon. You're already a shadow of the person you used to be. I can't watch you go down this path."
Ji-hoon's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Then stay out of my way." The words weren't meant to hurt, but the coldness in his voice couldn't be ignored. He wasn't the same Ji-hoon who had once worried about his friends. The weight of the past had stripped him of that.
Without another word, Ji-hoon turned away and walked toward the door. He knew what he had to do. He was going to face Baek Chan-gyu head-on. He was going to make him pay. There would be no more waiting, no more second chances. It was time for the world to feel the wrath of a blind man who had nothing left to lose.
And if Chan-gyu thought he could hide behind his network of lies and deception, Ji-hoon was going to tear it all down—piece by piece. Because no one, not even a man like Baek Chan-gyu, could escape the consequences of their actions forever.
And Ji-hoon would make sure of that.
Ji-hoon's hands gripped the door handle tightly, his fingers white with the force of his hold. The room behind him felt like a prison, suffocating him with memories of who he used to be, of the man he had been before the darkness swallowed him whole. He had never imagined that the pursuit of revenge would be the force that would define him, that the burning desire for justice would reshape him into something almost unrecognizable. But there he was, standing at the precipice of a life-altering decision, willing to burn every bridge in his path to destroy the man who had taken everything from him.
As he stepped out into the cool night air, his mind raced with the plan he had set in motion. He knew he couldn't do this alone. He had his allies, but he couldn't afford to trust anyone entirely. Everyone around him had their own motivations, their own dark histories that could easily intertwine with his. Except for Joon-won. His friend, his rock, had always been there. Ji-hoon wished it could stay that way, that he could remain the person who valued the ties that held him together. But now... now the only tie he had left was the one to his mother, and it was twisted with pain and loss.
His footsteps echoed in the alley as he walked towards the meeting point where the people he had hired would be waiting. They were the best of the best. Mercenaries with no names, trained killers who had no loyalty but to the money they were paid. The cold, impersonal nature of it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he had no other choice. This wasn't just about righting a wrong—it was about survival. The world as he knew it was crumbling, and all he could do was burn it down to the ground and watch as the ashes fell.
When he arrived at the abandoned warehouse, the air was thick with tension. The lights from a flickering streetlamp cast long shadows across the cracked concrete floor, and a chill settled in his bones as he walked inside. The men and women who stood waiting for him didn't look at him with recognition, but with the detached indifference of people who had seen it all. The leader, a tall man with a scar running down his face, stepped forward and held out a hand. Ji-hoon could feel the weight of the man's gaze, sizing him up, calculating. He didn't flinch.
"Everything's ready," the leader said, his voice rough, with the kind of gravelly edge that only years of battle could carve into someone's tone.
Ji-hoon nodded curtly, his expression unreadable. "I want Baek Chan-gyu. I want him broken. No one else gets hurt."
The leader's lips twisted into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You understand what you're asking for, right? Breaking a man like Chan-gyu won't be easy. He's not just a businessman, not just a target. He's connected. We have to be careful, or we'll be walking into a firestorm we can't control."
"I don't care," Ji-hoon replied, his voice icy. "I've been burned. I've already lost everything. I've spent my whole life being careful, playing by the rules. That's why I'm here. I'm done playing it safe. He's going to suffer for what he did to my mother. That's all that matters."
The leader studied him for a moment, and then, with a sharp nod, he stepped aside. "We'll get it done. But know this—once you start, there's no turning back. The moment you decide to go after a man like Chan-gyu, you'll bring down everything he's built. His enemies will come out of the woodwork, his alliances will crumble, and there will be no way to stop it."
Ji-hoon's fists clenched. He was already beyond caring about the consequences. He had already walked through hell, had already faced the brutal reality that the world he had known was a lie. The mask of civility that he had worn his entire life had shattered, revealing the person beneath it. A person who had nothing to lose.
"Do it," Ji-hoon said, his voice low but firm. "Start now."
The leader didn't say another word. The mercenaries scattered, already preparing for the task ahead. Ji-hoon remained standing, his heart pounding in his chest as he stood at the center of it all, the storm gathering around him. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, watching the mercenaries go to work, but when they returned, their faces were grim.
"We've got him," the leader said, his voice carrying a note of finality. "But you were right—he's dangerous. You're going to need to be ready for what comes next. This is just the beginning."
Ji-hoon nodded once, the weight of what he was about to do settling on him like an iron shroud. He had already crossed the line. There was no going back now.
The hours passed in a blur. Ji-hoon stayed close to the operation, his mind constantly shifting between rage and focus. He watched as the mercenaries carried out their work, infiltrating Chan-gyu's organization, cutting down those who posed a threat, sabotaging his operations. Every action was meticulously planned, but Ji-hoon's heart was only focused on one thing: Chan-gyu. The man who had destroyed his world.
When they finally found him, Ji-hoon was ready. He had no mercy left in him, no empathy for the man who had once been a rival and now was nothing more than a symbol of his suffering. His mother's death, the shattered pieces of his life, the endless nights spent in silence—all of it was going to culminate in this moment. This was the price for everything Chan-gyu had taken.
Baek Chan-gyu was dragged before him, his hands bound and blood staining his clothes. The arrogance that had once defined him was gone, replaced by a look of shock and fear. The mighty man, the one who had orchestrated so much, now looked small in front of Ji-hoon. For the first time, Ji-hoon felt in control. The power was in his hands, and for the first time in years, it felt good.
"Do you know who I am?" Ji-hoon asked, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. He could see the flicker of recognition in Chan-gyu's eyes, the realization dawning on him. He had made a mistake. He had underestimated the boy he had always seen as weak, as a rival who was easy to manipulate.
"You should have never crossed me," Ji-hoon said, stepping closer, his face inches from Chan-gyu's. "You took everything from me. My mother... my life. You thought you could hide behind your connections, behind your money, but now it's over."
Chan-gyu's lips trembled as he opened his mouth, but no words came out. Ji-hoon could see the fear in his eyes, the desperation. It was a small comfort to him, knowing that the man who had caused him so much pain was now vulnerable, exposed.
With a final, swift motion, Ji-hoon turned and walked away. He had done what he set out to do. The rest was just a matter of time.
As the warehouse doors creaked shut behind him, Ji-hoon knew that this was only the beginning. The revenge he had sought would not bring back his mother, would not erase the pain, but it was the only thing he could control. The world had taken everything from him, and now, for the first time, he had taken something back.