The edges of the man's face began to shift unnaturally. A faint spark of red flame rippled across his face, spreading along his entire face. Followed along with black flames, curling around his eyes, searing into the lines of his jaw.
The colors flared brighter, licking upward, shaping themselves into… a flaming mask of red and black.
…
The gangster charged forward, breaking Seojin's concentration.
And the flames were gone, without a trace, leaving only the man's blood-streaked face and the sharp grin beneath his eyes.
Seojin stepped back, pulled their hood back up.
They raised the metal pipe, grip tightening at the base, metal catching the flicker of the lights above as the gangster closed in, ready to strike.
The gangster swung first, a sharp punch aimed straight for Seojin's face.
Seojin spun the metal pipe into a backhand grip and sidestepped, the blow slicing past their shoulder. The man stumbled from his own momentum, twisting around just in time to see Seojin already mid-swing. He lunged, tackling Seojin before the strike could land, driving them hard against the row of seats with a THUD.
Pain jolted up Seojin's spine, but they barely reacted to it.
Immediately after, they switched the pipe back to a backhand hold and began hammering it down hard on the gangster's back with constant thuds. The man screamed, grabbing Seojin by the shoulder and hurling them aside.
Seojin crashed into another seat, the impact splintering the frame.
Before they could recover, the gangster's boot snapped forward in a kick toward their ribs. Seojin raised the pipe just in time to block,
THWACK! But the force still sent them sprawling backward. The seat behind them split in half with a CRACK.
The world shifted along with Seojin.
Everything inverted, spinning in a half-turn as Seojin crashed over the row. The view flipped upside down, lights streaking across the metal ceiling before the floor slammed up to meet them.
THUD.
The impact jolted through the compartment. Glass trembled, metal frames rattled, the whole space shivering as Seojin hit their back and slid out of sight between the seats.
They rolled, fast, coming up to their feet as they backed against the wall.
The gangster approached slowly, his boots syncing with the low rumble of the train beneath them.
Seojin glanced back, the glass window behind reflected streaks of passing light, a smear of motion and color across the dark. They stared at the mask reflection in the glass.
Then they turned forward again.
The gangster leaned casually against the back of a seat, one arm draped over it, posture loose.
"So you're supposed to be our boss," he grinned. "The one inheriting a legendary centuries-old organization?"
A faint laugh broke out, rough and uneven. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing in amusement.
"What a joke," he said, pushing off the seat. His smile twisted.
"I don't see it."
Seojin's gaze lowered, their hands trembled just once before gripping tighter.
…
Then Seojin lunged forward, pipe drawn low.
The gangster shifted instantly, his heel twisted, leg snapping up in a perfect side kick.
THUD.
The kick landed square in Seojin's ribs, driving them back into the wall.
Glass rattled, the window behind them shivering with reflected light.
Seojin's breath escaped through clenched teeth. One hand caught the seat edge, stopping the fall.
The gangster rolled his shoulder once, grin widening, the sound of the train swallowing his laughter.
"It's a good thing you declined to take on the role," he said, tilting his head, mocking. "We are better off without you."
The lights above flickered, breaking the scene into frozen fragments:
the gangster's grin,
Seojin's hand tightening on the pipe,
and their two reflections in the window, flickering, merging, and splitting apart with each pulse of light.
For a split second, Seojin's vision wavered.
…
The faint red, black flames returned, crawling up the gangster's face again.
It rippled, flickered, then burned alive. The same flaming mask formed, black veins of fire curling around his eyes and jaw, feeding off his pulse.
Seojin exhaled, fingers tightening around the pipe.
They flipped the grip into a backhand hold, the metal catching the passing lights.
Their leg rose, a sharp, fast kick aimed for the gangster's chest.
But before it could land–
CRACK!
The gangster's boot struck Seojin's shin mid-motion with an oblique kick. The impact snapped their balance, cancelling the strike halfway.
The gangster lunged in instantly, driving his fist forward.
Seojin didn't back off.
They stayed still, facing him head-on, raising the pipe high, but instead of striking forward, their arm snapped backward.
THUD!
The end of the pipe smashed into the window behind them. The glass groaned, a web of cracks splintering across its surface.
Before the sound even faded, the gangster's fist crashed into Seojin's face.
CRACK!
The mask split across the cheek, a fracture line crawling down like lightning. The blow drove Seojin backward– but their hand shot up.
They caught the back of the gangster's head mid-motion and pulled forward.
The gangster's body turned with it, his head slamming straight into the already cracked window.
SHATTER!
The glass exploded outward, shards scattering into the rushing dark.
The scream was immediate, echoing with the roar of the train.
Seojin didn't let go, they shoved harder, driving the gangster's upper body through the jagged frame, half of him hanging out into the wind. His legs kicked against the floor, scraping for balance, but Seojin's grip only tightened, pushing him further down as his voice was torn away by the tunnel's roar.
Seojin's vision bled red.
Everything else, sound, movements, light all faded away.
There was only the scream, it tore through the tunnel wind, a distorted echo of fear.
Seojin pressed harder, arms locked, forcing the gangster further through the shattered window. Blood streaked the glass edges. The air outside roared, swallowing his voice.
Seojin started inhaling and exhaling so hard that it felt like they're suffocating.
…
CLANG!
A shock rang through the metal frame. The sound cut through Seojin's trance like a blade.
Their head jerked back.
Before they could react, the gangster was pulled back in the train..
Hands had grabbed him from behind, dragging him back inside.
Seojin's vision started trembling, colors melting into static, blurring.
Someone then seized their collar.
The force lifted them off the floor.
Seojin's eyes flicked up, and saw the acrobat gangster breathing heavily, sitting behind 3 new men.
The lead gangster held Seojin by the collar, towering over everyone else, his other hand holding a familiar object… the metal-bat man's bat, resting against the gangster's shoulder.
The other two flanking him: one with a blood-soaked mohawk, the other in a garish jacket that caught the light like oil, his mouth curling into a grin.
The leader looked past Seojin toward the broken window, then back again, his grin widened.
Then he twisted his arm and threw Seojin to the other side of the aisle.
CRACK–THUD!
Their back struck the handle of a seat, metal bending under the impact before they dropped hard to the floor.
The sound of the train's wheels roared back into their hearing, muffled and distant, as if underwater.
Seojin's breath came heavy, they pressed their hands against the floor, but was unable to lift themself up. Their hood had fallen again, the cracked mask reflecting the strobing lights overhead.
The three figures stood framed against the aisle's flickering glow, shadows stretching long across the compartment.
The leader twirled the bat once, the metal still wet under the light.
The mohawk gangster laughed. "Can't believe that guy with the bat went down so fast."
The jacket gangster kicked aside a fallen pipe, smirking. "He was Kangwoo, right? Thought he'd do better."
"Yeah," the leader said, tapping the bat against the floor. "Didn't meet up to the rumors a single bit."
Their laughter rose together, short and sharp, echoing off the torn seats and cracked walls.
"Whole train full of amateurs," the mohawk gangster muttered, shaking his head. "No wonder Yeon's legacy is falling apart."
And in that breath between impacts, Seojin felt it, the world turning inside-out again, ready to repaint every face in flames.
The leader grinned, eyes cutting down toward Seojin.
"Now, where should we start?"