FALLEN KINGS - REWRITTENBaki x Lookism Crossover FanfictionCHAPTER 1: THE BEGINNING OF THE ENDSEOUL — 6:47 AMGun Park didn't sleep. Never had. His eyes opened the same way a predator's did—fully alert, threat assessment running on autopilot before consciousness caught up.The city below his window was still half-dead. Cars starting their engines. Street vendors dragging metal carts across concrete. Seoul breathing itself awake like it did every morning, indifferent to the man watching from forty stories up.He lit a cigarette. The smoke curled wrong—or maybe his hands were shaking. Hard to tell anymore.Forty stories. He'd conquered most of what was beneath him. Every district. Every crew. Every line drawn in blood and broken teeth. But it didn't feel like conquering anymore. It felt like... what? Maintenance? Playing king in a city that didn't care?His phone buzzed. Eugene. Got reports from the docks. Some massive foreigners asking about our territory structure. Who we answer to. Our crew hierarchy.Gun's fingers tightened on the cigarette. Not hard enough to break it, but close.Foreign interest in Seoul crew structure wasn't just unusual. It was wrong. The underground stayed compartmentalized. Tokyo had its own kings. America had its circuits. But asking about structure? About hierarchy?Keep watching, he typed back. Don't engage.He sent it, but his gut was screaming.That pressure was still there. That thing he couldn't name. Like standing in a room before the lights went out—you couldn't see the dark coming, but your body knew.He'd survived Seoul by trusting that feeling.So he started making calls.GOO KIM'S PENTHOUSE — 7:15 AMGoo was doing push-ups on his balcony. Forty stories up. Nothing between him and the street except air and the absolute certainty that he wouldn't fall.His golden hair was matted to his skull. Sweat pooled in the scars across his back and shoulders—the kind of scars that told stories about fights nobody should have survived.He wasn't thinking about push-ups.His mind was somewhere darker.One of his crew captains had called earlier. Strange report. Foreign fighters. Not the small-time trash from other districts. These guys moved like soldiers. Organized. Everything calculated. The kind of precision that came from fighting wars, not territorial bullshit.And they were asking about Seoul's crew network.Goo stopped mid-push-up. His heart wasn't racing from exertion.He could read people the way instruments read sound waves. Movement told you everything—who trained you, who broke you, what you were willing to die for. These foreigners? Their movements screamed military coordination. International training. Something systematic.The wind picked up. He didn't move.For the first time in... years? He felt hunted. Not by rivals. By something bigger. Something that didn't give a shit about his chaos or his unpredictability or any of the things that had kept him on top.His phone rang. Gun's number."Yeah," Goo answered without checking. Didn't need to."I think we need to meet," Gun said. His voice was wrong. Cold in a way that meant Gun was scared. And Gun didn't get scared. "All of us."Goo's jaw clenched. Gun suggesting emergency meetings meant one of three things: cops, internal betrayal, or something so massive that neither of them could handle it solo."Where?""The warehouse. One hour. Only people you trust completely."The line went dead.Goo stood on that balcony naked, sweat drying in the wind, and looked out at Seoul. The city that had raised him. That he'd bled for. That he'd conquered piece by piece.For the first time, he wondered if it would matter when something this big came crashing down.DANIEL PARK — DUAL LOCATION — 7:30 AMThe problem with having two bodies was that Daniel experienced his panic twice simultaneously.His perfect body woke up in expensive Gangnam sunlight, supposed to be a normal high school student. Textbooks. Friends. A life that looked human.His small body woke up in an underground safehouse surrounded by feeds and reports and the devices that monitored everything.Both bodies thought the same thoughts. Both felt the same thing.This wasn't the normal foresight. This wasn't the microsecond warning system before incoming attacks. This was primal. The feeling of standing on train tracks when you heard the distant horn.Something's coming.His perfect body's hands shook holding a pencil. Mock exams. Meaningless. His small body's hands shook shuffling intelligence reports. The images weren't clear yet—just fragments:Red hair. Fire. Dozens of fighters he'd never seen. Blood on Seoul streets. The warehouse burning. Everything burning.But the images were wrong too. Foresight didn't show futures. It showed probabilities—branching pathways of what could happen. Right now, every path was on fire.His perfect body went to the bathroom. Something's happening. When?Gun responded immediately. Warehouse. One hour. Bring yourself. Both of you.Daniel understood. Gun knew about the bodies. Gun knew everything that mattered.His small body started packing weapons. The hands were steady now, moving on muscle memory.His perfect body left the exam room.Both minds prepared for war.JOHAN SEONG — GOD DOG HEADQUARTERS — 7:45 AMJohan's gift was copying—techniques, fighting styles, entire martial philosophies—but what nobody knew was that copying required understanding. And understanding required becoming the person you were copying.Sometimes, when Johan slipped into violent minds, he felt their hunger. Their paranoia. Their need to dominate everything they touched.Right now, sitting across from Eli Jang, Johan was copying everyone around him without trying."We're getting inquiries," Eli said carefully, not making eye contact. "About our crew structure. Leadership. How many fighters we have."Johan's eyes narrowed. "From who?""Don't know. They ask the right questions. Professional." Eli finally looked at him. "But Johan, I've been in this world long enough to know—people don't map you unless they're planning to conquer you."The vibration came then. That pressure before a thunderstorm.Johan was copying everyone's fear at once, which meant his own fear was amplified. Multiplied. Almost suffocating.His phone buzzed. Gun Park. Emergency meeting. Warehouse. One hour. All leaders.Johan's mouth was dry. "Eli, how many people would die for us?""Truly die?""Yeah.""Maybe thirty. Out of three hundred."Johan closed his eyes. He copied his own reflection in the darkened window—saw himself the way others did. A young man who'd climbed too high using abilities he didn't understand. A boy playing king in a city about to be conquered.He stood. "Get those thirty ready. Weapons. Supplies. We're moving.""Moving where?""I don't know yet," Johan said quietly. "But I know we can't stay here."VASCO — STREET LEVEL — 8:00 AMVasco didn't calculate like Gun. Didn't read chaos like Goo. Didn't copy like Johan.Vasco just fought.But simple didn't mean stupid.He felt it the same way animals feel earthquakes—vibration in the earth. The balance that had kept Seoul stable was about to collapse.He was hitting a wall in an alley when one of his crew ran up, panicked."Vasco! Reports—some massive foreigners asking about our crew. They're moving through the districts, mapping everything. Like they're—""Okay," Vasco said, hitting the wall harder. "Okay."His phone buzzed. Gun. Warehouse. One hour. This is serious.Vasco nodded to his crew. "Get everyone to the safehouse. Pack what you can carry. We might move fast.""Move where?""Anywhere that's not here."As Vasco made his way toward the warehouse, he tried to understand the fear settling in his chest like ice water.He couldn't. He could only feel it.And sometimes, that was enough.
THE WAREHOUSE — 8:47 AM
They arrived within minutes of each other. Gun. Goo. Small Daniel. Johan. Vasco.The warehouse was neutral ground. Their safe place. Where Seoul's true power structure met in secret.It was also a tomb.The first sign was the silence. No birds. No traffic. Nothing.The second sign was the broken door. Not locked. Destroyed. Methodically."Gun," Goo's voice was low, dangerous. "Tell me this is a trap you set.""It's not," Gun said quietly. His mind was already calculating odds, plotting escape routes. All of them were coming up empty. "Someone else was here."Daniel's small body's foresight was screaming so loud he could barely think. Both bodies moved instinctively into defensive positions. "We're being watched. Right now.""I know," Johan said. His copying instincts were reading the air. "Multiple presences. Professional. Military-grade awareness."They moved deeper. Gun's hands slid into his pockets. Vasco cracked his knuckles. Goo's body language shifted into something wild, unpredictable.The main floor opened up.Empty.Except for one figure standing in morning light. Red hair looked like fire. Eyes were unusual—wild but intelligent. Relaxed posture, but presence filled the entire space.Gun's tactical mind immediately assessed. Tall. Maybe 6'2". Lean muscle. Young—early twenties. Simple black gi. No visible weapons."Baki Hanma," Johan whispered. His copying instincts recognized him immediately. The family resemblance. The way he moved.Baki raised his hands slowly. Peacefully."I'm not here to fight you.""Then why?" Gun asked."Because your city is about to be conquered," Baki said quietly. "And I came to warn you. But more importantly..." He lowered his hands. "I came to save you."Something in how he said it made them all tense. Baki's eyes held sadness. Genuine concern. But something else too—certainty. Like he'd already seen how this ends."Save us from what?" Goo demanded. His instincts were going haywire. "Your father?""Yes," Baki said simply. "And I need—"Vasco moved first. No premeditation. Pure fight-or-flight. Massive charge aimed at Baki's center.Baki sidestepped. Didn't appear to move at all."Wait!" he shouted.But Gun was already moving. Hanma Grip technique. Goo struck from an impossible angle—chaos weaponized. Daniel's dual bodies operated in perfect sync, one high, one low. Johan was copying Baki's movements while attacking, trying to lock the pattern.Five against one.Baki simply... evaporated.His strikes weren't offense. Pure defense. When Daniel's perfect body came at him, Baki rolled, used Daniel's momentum against him. When Goo's chaos strike came from the side, Baki sidestepped and redirected—Goo crashed into a pillar, the air exploding out of his lungs.Gun's Hanma Grip came screaming. Baki caught it but didn't fight. He twisted, used Gun's own strength, threw him across the warehouse. Gun hit the wall. The breath died in his throat.Johan tried to lock the pattern. But Baki kept shifting. Every dodge was different. Every defense was new. Johan couldn't get a hold on anything.Vasco charged again. Powered by courage. Powered by fury. Baki spun—movement so smooth it looked choreographed—and caught Vasco's fist. Instead of blocking, Baki just held it. Held the massive punch. Slowly guided it downward. Dissipated the force into concrete.Five minutes.That's all it took.All five of them were on the ground. Not unconscious. Not broken. Just... down. Exhausted. Overwhelmed.Baki wasn't even breathing hard.He knelt beside Gun, who was staring at the ceiling, trying to understand what had just happened."I'm not your enemy," Baki said quietly. "But you needed to understand something—the gap between you and what's coming. It's not a gap." He paused. "It's an abyss.""Who... who are you?" Gun gasped."My name is Baki Hanma," he said. "And my father..." Baki's eyes darkened. "My father is about to change the world."THE EXPLANATION — 8:58 AMThey gathered on crates, listening to a story that would reshape everything."Three months ago," Baki began, "someone leaked information to my father. Information about Seoul's crew network. About how Goo and Gun organized their territory into separate, powerful affiliates."He looked directly at Gun and Goo. "That information came from James Lee. He gave it to my father as a gift."The silence was absolute."My father became obsessed," Baki continued. "He realized your structure—crew-based affiliates unified under one banner—was the perfect blueprint for global dominance."Baki started walking around them. "So he started recruiting. Not just strong fighters. The strongest fighters. From every major nation."He pulled out a phone. Images appeared."India's underground fighting circuit has a new leader—Gajja Rao. My father's affiliate head for the Asian subcontinent. America has Biscuit Oliva, who now controls all North American networks. Russia has Viktor Volkov. Survived military campaigns. Shadow wars."More images. China. Korea. Japan. Every major power had a face now. A name."My father has built a global network spanning every continent," Baki said, his voice hollow. "Every major fighting circuit. Every underground power structure." He looked at them. "And your city—your precious Seoul—it's about to become one small piece of his empire."Daniel's foresight was making sense now. The burning images. They weren't metaphorical."When?" Gun asked."Days," Baki said. "His representatives are already moving through your districts. They're not here to negotiate. They're here to present terms. Join his network, or be destroyed.""And why are you telling us this?" Goo demanded. "Why aren't you helping your father?"Baki's expression cracked slightly. Pain flickered across his face. "Because my father has confused strength with morality. Power with purpose. He's turned martial arts into slavery. And I can't..." His voice broke. "I can't accept that."He looked at the five of them—these five fighters who'd been so certain of their power moments ago."I came here to warn you. To tell you that your time of independence is over. But more than that..." Baki paused. His eyes held something desperate. "I came to ask if you'd be willing to fight. Not to win. But to survive. To grow. To show the world that even in the face of inevitable conquest, there's still value in resistance.""You want us to fight your father?" Johan asked quietly. "You know that's impossible.""I know," Baki said. "But I also know that my father has never faced fighters who refused to break. Who refused to bow. Who kept fighting even when the odds were impossible."He extended his hand. "I can train you. Teach you techniques my father uses. Show you how to survive his network." Baki's eyes gleamed with determination mixed with desperation. "But you have to be willing to break. To suffer. To become something more than you are now."Gun stared at that extended hand for a long moment.Then he took it.