Rain had been falling gently since the afternoon, blending with the gloom that matched Jung Kok's deepening unease. The note he found days ago was still neatly tucked inside the pocket of his black jacket. The paper wasn't large, but the burden it carried weighed heavily on every step he took since he received it.
"Your blood is not meant for good."
A short sentence — but it struck directly at his soul.
In the dojo training hall, Min watched Jung Kok from a distance. Jung Kok's movements remained steady and controlled, but there was something different about the way he struck his target. Sharper. Faster. More... pressured.
"Your moves are getting more aggressive," Min commented after several minutes of silence.
Jung Kok stopped. His breathing was heavy. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a small towel and gave a slow nod. "We never know when the enemy will come, right?" he replied tersely.
Min forced a thin smile, but he wasn't satisfied. He knew Jung Kok was hiding something. But after years of friendship, he also knew that pushing would only make Jung Kok withdraw further.
Still, tonight, Min didn't intend to just sit and wait. He had a plan of his own.
Elsewhere, in a luxurious room inside an unfinished high-rise, Rina was on the phone. Her voice was soft, but sharp.
"Jung Joon's getting greedy. He doesn't realize I'm just using him to get closer to the real target," she said with a faint smirk.
On her table were neatly stacked files — including one labeled Hwang.
"Now it's the sons' turn to fall," she whispered.
Jung Joon wasn't wasting time either. He was planning his next move — but this time, it wasn't a physical strike. He was playing dirty.
"You really want to be a hero, little brother?" he muttered while lighting a cigarette. "Let's see how you hold onto your ideals when innocent people die in front of you."
He ordered one of his men to cause a small disturbance at a night market — enough to draw Jung Kok's attention. Not to kill, just to lure him in. He wanted to shake his brother, confuse him... and ultimately force him to choose the path of blood.
That night, Min began investigating. He pretended to go out for food, but in truth, he was tailing the courier who had once delivered documents to the dojo.
His movements were calm, silent, and focused.
He found nothing unusual about the courier — but on his way back, he noticed something else. Someone was following them from a distance. Dressed in all black. Moving too smoothly to be an ordinary thug.
"Who are you…?" Min whispered as he slipped into a dark alley to begin tailing the man.
But within a blink, the man vanished — as if into thin air.
Min stood still, eyes scanning his surroundings. The night breeze brushed his face. He knew then... this wasn't an ordinary game. This was something much bigger than the conflict between two brothers.
Jung Kok sat behind the dojo that night, staring up at the thick gray sky. The rain still drizzled. In his hand, he gripped the mysterious note.
His mother's face suddenly came to mind — the woman who used to hold him tightly when he was little, back when Hwang was still busy conquering the underworld.
"Don't become like your father, Kok… you have a choice…"
Her voice echoed in his memory.
And for the first time since everything began, Jung Kok shed tears.
He knew the world he stood in would never let him win cleanly. But he also knew — if he gave in now, then every sacrifice would be meaningless.
Suddenly, the sound of a snapping twig jolted him from his thoughts. He stood quickly.
His steps were slow as he moved down the narrow alley behind the dojo. Silence. Only the sound of raindrops.
"Who's there?" he asked.
No reply.
Then suddenly — a whisper, soft and chilling, right by his ear:
"It's not your brother you should fear…"
Jung Kok spun around instantly, but there was no one. Only an empty alley and the dim glow of a streetlamp.
He drew a small blade from his belt. His eyes scanned the shadows, alert.
And high above, on the rooftop cloaked in darkness — a pair of eyes watched him from afar.