That night the rain fell in sheets, accompanied by thunder and a sky full of lightning. The TYN reporter clutched his old satchel like it was something precious. He didn't care about the downpour; he was humming to himself — convinced he'd just made himself a decent payday.
He wasn't stupid. He'd already copied those photos to another USB. That meant he could blackmail Valko and the Kamakiri family anytime. Valko could probably spare ten billion dong — then how much more could the Kamakiris afford?
Happily splashing through a puddle, Minh suddenly noticed two strange figures in black. The rain and the blur of the night — plus the booze in his veins — kept him from seeing them clearly, but he could tell they were heading straight for him. In fact, the distance between them closed faster and faster. A bad feeling crawled up his spine. Minh turned and tried to run. But the rain had soaked him through; his body felt absurdly heavy.
In no time the two men had him. One grabbed the collar of Minh's shirt and yanked him back; the other pressed a dagger to the reporter's throat. Minh went pale with fear. He forced his eyes up to see who they were, frozen, unable to move or bow his head because of the blade.
"Who—who are you!? What is this!? I… I haven't done anything to you! Could you please—please put that knife down?"
Minh's whole body trembled; he probably pissed himself then and there. The two brutal men exchanged cruel looks and laughed in a disgusting, synchronized way. One toyed with the dagger at Minh's throat like a cat playing with a mouse.
"You really don't have any quarrel with us," the butcher-like man said.
"But you do with our boss. You're greedy — you think grabbing ten billion once was that easy? So our boss wants to give you a little extra present. How's that sound?"
At the butcher's tone Minh understood immediately what the "little present" would be. Panic tightened his chest. He groped under his satchel for something, but the other man caught his hand before he could pull anything out. All he could do was plead.
"Please! I—there's two billion in my bag right now. Take it. Just let me go this once?"
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. One of them roughly dragged Minh by the collar through the wet street and shoved him into a dark alley. Minh didn't wait — he tried to scramble away, but the butcher drove the dagger into the back of his thigh.
"ARRRGGG!"
Minh screamed, biting his lip until it bled from the pain. Before he could cry out again, another blow smashed into his skull and sent him slamming against the brick wall. After that, his senses blurred; he could feel himself slipping away.
But that was only the start of Valko's "gift." The two thugs who worked for Valko grinned in a way that was almost giddy. One picked up an iron pipe, the other grabbed a wooden plank. They seemed pleased, like contestants about to show off.
"Let's see how many hits it takes to put this guy down."
"Worried he might die, though."
"So what if he dies? Then we don't have to pay him. Stuff him in a cement suitcase and throw him in the river — he won't come up."
"Nice idea, brother…" The other rubbed his beard in satisfaction. "Maybe Mr. Valko will reward us handsomely after."
They looked down at Minh curled on the ground. He didn't understand everything they were saying, but their sudden, savage gleam told him enough. Helpless, he raised his hands reflexively.
"Wait…? Please—!"
But it was too late. The two big men started pounding him: kicks, blows, as if they were beating a soulless punching bag. The rain hammered down harder; Minh's cries were swallowed by the storm. No one could hear him, no one could save him. He lost track of whether he could move at all. His face was battered and soaked with something that wasn't rain — a metallic, bloody tang mixed with the mud from the thugs' shoes.
The pain crawled through him until finally he felt numb, like death pressing at his throat.
His life flashed in jagged fragments: the top score he'd gotten at the Foreign Trade University journalism program, the dream of becoming a respected reporter like his father. How had it come to this? Gambling, bribes — he'd sold away a man's dignity with fabricated stories. If he hadn't slipped into those football bets, if he hadn't done those things, maybe his wife wouldn't have left him. Maybe he wouldn't have lost his girl.
"My girl…" Minh murmured, a small sound like an insect. His face hung with blood like minced meat.
Was this the end? That bastard… I should've just posted those pictures online. Regret flooded him — too late, too deep.
As one of the butchers raised his weapon for a final, fatal blow, headlights cut through the rain and shone straight at the three men. The two thugs shielded their eyes; for a moment they could see clearly. It was a light blue pickup, driver unseen inside.
One of the attackers cursed, "Damn it! Turn that light off, you jerk! Don't make me drag you out!"
But the man inside the truck didn't answer. He sat silent. Then, suddenly, he slammed the gas.
Before the thugs could react, the truck lunged forward like a bullet and crushed them against the wall. They were pinned under the wheel, smashed beyond recognition. Minh forced his blurry eyes up. The scene was terrible, but a strange relief surged through him and he managed a crooked smile even with his face pressed to the ground.
The man who stepped out of the truck didn't seem bothered by the bodies beneath his tires. He climbed down slowly. Tall — nearly two meters — wearing a black overcoat, he lit a cigarette and took a deliberate drag. His hair was streaked silver with age; his gaze was cold and terrifying, the look of someone who'd dirtied his hands a hundred times. This was Satoru.
He exhaled the smoke from a strong cigarette and looked down at Minh, barely breathing.
"Those were Valko's men. Messy. It's humiliating that we have to clean up after them," he said.
Minh's hands trembled; he tried to move, to send some signal. He guessed the man had killed those two because he needed something from him — because he was important. He clung to that anchor.
"Sir… I…" Minh croaked. Satoru crouched and looked at him with icy eyes.
"My boss has a favor to ask of you." Before Minh could even ask who that boss might be, Satoru kept talking.
"Now you see. Valko's the sort of man who'd rather kill you like a dog than pay. Even if you cut a deal, you won't walk away with that money. But I have a better offer."
Satoru paused, then continued, "We have information — enough to strip Valko of all his power in a heartbeat. All you have to do is publish it. What do you say?"
Minh was confused at first about the mysterious man's motive, but the promise — and the hot, explosive nature of the information — triggered his greedy, selfish instincts. He smiled, grotesque and blood-smeared.
"…So that's our deal."
---
It was barely dawn—around five in the morning. The weak sunlight slipped through the tall windows of the penthouse, brushing against the polished floor. Mina was already awake. She had changed back into the clothes she wore last night, grabbed her handbag and sunglasses, and quietly made her way toward the door.
"Leaving just like that? Not even a goodbye?"
Mina froze. The voice came from behind her.
Shana stood there, leaning casually against the wall. She was still wearing nothing but her lingerie—strikingly beautiful even with her messy red hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her arms were crossed, her expression cold and sharp, stripped of her usual playful charm. There was danger in her tone, and Mina could sense it.
But she didn't flinch. Through her dark sunglasses, Mina's face remained calm, emotionless, distant.
"I should go before Duyen feels awkward seeing me here," Mina said coolly.
"You actually care about that?" Shana gave a short, bitter laugh—void of humor. Her voice dropped, sharp and low.
"...After what you did last night? You scared my Duyen to tears."
Mina said nothing. She knew. She had heard Duyen's cries. But she stayed silent, as if the truth wasn't worth acknowledging. That silence only fueled Shana's anger.
Shana could have lunged forward right then—torn Mina apart with her bare hands if she wanted to. But she didn't. Her breathing steadied, and the fury in her eyes cooled into something colder: contempt.
"Mina." Shana said, each word cutting deeper than the last.
"You're nothing but a selfish woman who only ever thinks of herself. Do you even realize how much pain you're causing everyone—especially Duyen?"
She took a step closer.
"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you've got your reasons, things you can't explain. Fine. But why? Why can't you just let her go?"
Shana's voice broke into a shout.
"Accept the truth already!"
Still, Mina didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't even breathe differently. It was as if nothing Shana said could pierce the wall of conviction inside her—the strange, twisted religion she had built in her own mind.
Finally, Mina spoke. Her voice was calm, almost eerily so.
"That... is love."
The words hit like a slap. Shana's eyes widened in disbelief as Mina continued, her tone unwavering.
"Duyen doesn't understand it yet. But she will. Everything I've done—it's all for her future."
"What... what the hell are you talking about?" Shana muttered, unable to believe what she was hearing.
Mina turned slightly, her voice as cold as the morning light.
"You don't need to understand. No one does. And one more thing—" She paused briefly.
"I'll let you keep Duyen for a little while longer. But when the time comes, I'll be back to take her with me."
Shana almost laughed. It was absurd—arrogant beyond reason.
"So you're saying you're letting me borrow her?" she scoffed.
"Fine. Let's pretend you can even get past me. What then? What if Duyen still refuses to go with you?"
That made Mina pause. Just for a second. Then she whispered, voice dripping with quiet possession.
"She won't refuse. She doesn't have a choice."
Shana stared at her—long and hard. In that moment, she finally understood the truth. This was obsession—mad, consuming, cruel. Mina would destroy everything, even herself, just to have Duyen.
But Shana didn't look angry, nor did she try to argue anymore. She just stood there, arms crossed, then took a slow step toward Mina.
"Turn around for a second, will you?"
Before Mina could even react, smack! — Shana's hand swung across her face so hard that Mina's expensive glasses flew off and shattered against the wall.
Mina froze, startled, not having seen it coming. Then the sting bloomed across her cheek, sharp and humiliating. She turned to Shana, eyes cold as frost, while Shana only shrugged and let out a small, amused laugh.
"With how clingy you are, I figured your skin would be just as thick. Guess not. If I'd hit you with my full strength, your head would've popped clean off. Anyway—"
Shana tilted her chin, voice low and cutting, "—you actually deserve way more than just one slap."
Mina chuckled, a quiet, mocking sound. She glanced at Shana and curved her lips into a smirk — as if she wouldn't even care if Shana decided to kill her right here. That arrogant, triumphant look was the last thing Shana saw before Mina opened the door and walked out of the penthouse.
Shana couldn't help but laugh bitterly. That woman really was beyond saving. How could an ordinary human like her be that conceited? Mina's unpredictability gnawed at Shana's nerves, stirring something restless in her gut.
She said she came to "pick Duyen up at the right time." So… she had a plan all along.
Don't tell me — could all those weird scandals lately have been orchestrated by her?
The thought sent a chill through Shana's spine. But what exactly was Mina planning next? Shana couldn't tell.
She walked softly toward Duyen's bedroom. When she opened the door, there she was — the beautiful tomboy, still asleep under a thick blanket, peaceful like an angel. Seeing her like that made something in Shana's heart ease and melt away.
She stepped closer and gently brushed aside the stray hair on Duyen's forehead, her touch tender and protective.
How can someone this pure and kind always get tangled in such messes? Shana thought to herself.
If it weren't for her, Duyen might've died a dozen times already — caught up in other people's schemes and cruelty. The human world was filthy and chaotic, full of disgusting plots and betrayal stacked on top of each other.
And yet, Duyen somehow still managed to keep her kindness and innocence intact.
Before Shana even realized it, she was already too deep — completely captivated by this girl.
She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Duyen's forehead. She would protect her. No matter what it took. In her own way.
As for that trip to Hokkaido, Shana already had her own plans. But first, she needed to find out what Mina was really up to.
And sure enough, just a few days later, something explosive happened.
Photos of Valko and Haruna being all over each other leaked onto every major news site overnight. It hit the internet like a domino effect — within hours, social media blew up.
People swarmed to the posts, commenting non-stop:
[@xxxDiego24xxx: "No way, right? Isn't Valko already married?"]
[@PrincessLuna: "Dude, guess what — Haruna's actually his wife's sister!?"]
[@antiKooo: "Ew! That's sick! Sleeping with your wife's sister? Gross!"]
[@********65: "Wait, isn't Haruna the ex-CEO of Goten Supermarket? The one whose scandal hospitalized 163 students?"]
[@xxxErisKxxx: "Everything's gone to hell! SCJ's stock just crashed to rock bottom!"]
The news spread like wildfire — and by midday, it had already reached the top brass of SCJ.
Meanwhile, Valko was still sound asleep beside his blonde mistress, completely unaware of the chaos waiting for him when he woke up.