The sound of leather shoes echoed down the silent corridor. The door to Jung Kok's small office opened without a knock.
"Long time no see, little brother."
Jung Kok didn't turn around. He slowly closed his notebook, then looked up with a calm expression. Standing before him was a man in his late twenties, dressed in a black shirt, hair slicked neatly back. Handsome, yet cold and full of arrogance. Jung Joon.
Min, seated nearby, simply observed. His hands rested on his knees, ready — not out of fear, but because he knew exactly who this man was.
"Didn't think you still remembered the way here," Jung Kok replied flatly.
Jung Joon smirked and stepped in without an invitation. His eyes scanned the modest office — shelves crammed with files, a small desk, and a few worn-out chairs. No luxury. Just practicality.
"The supposed heir's office? Looks more like a secretary's room," he sneered, settling into the chair opposite.
Jung Kok said nothing. His eyes simply watched, tracking his brother's every move. It had been three years since the incident — this was their first face-to-face meeting. Not at an event, not on the streets, but as two sons of Hwang.
"Why are you here?" Jung Kok finally asked.
"Did Father send me to apologize?" Jung Joon chuckled. "Or do you want me to kneel and beg for your blessing?"
Min clenched his fists quietly, but Jung Kok lifted a hand slightly — a signal not to interfere.
"Father still believes you can change," Jung Kok said.
Jung Joon leaned forward, his face now just inches from his brother's.
"Change? This world isn't for the weak, Jung Kok. You think taking care of recruits and feeding the homeless qualifies you to replace Father? This world doesn't care about compassion. Only power."
Silence fell over the room. Only the ticking of the clock remained.
Suddenly, the door burst open. One of Jung Kok's men was shoved inside, followed by two members of Jung Joon's crew. One of them pushed the man harshly to the floor.
"He bumped into us outside. Disrespectful."
Min stood and stepped forward. "Get out."
One of them tried to challenge him, but in a blink, his arm was twisted and slammed against the wall. Min, though quiet, never failed to uphold his young master's dignity.
Before things escalated further, Jung Kok stood up. He moved slowly, pulling his subordinate back.
"I apologize for their roughness. But I won't let you dishonor my family here," he said to Jung Joon.
His brother rose slowly, adjusting his slightly creased coat.
"You'll learn, little brother. In this world, only those with dirty blood survive."
He turned to leave, but paused at the door.
"I'll take everything, not because I hate you… but because I won't let you destroy our family's legacy."
Jung Kok watched the shadow of his brother disappear through the door. He looked down and noticed a small cut on his right hand from pulling his man earlier — blood dripped slowly.
Min approached.
"A small wound."
Jung Kok looked at the blood.
"Small… but it always starts with a single drop."
End-of-Chapter Hook:
> And from a dark corner, inside a black car parked beside the building — Hwang watched in silence. His eyes sharp, his mind calm. He already knew: a storm was beginning to stir.