The road from Seongrim to Nampo seemed endless beneath the RMW's headlights. The city's lights of Seongrim faded behind them, swallowed by the quiet countryside. Inside the car, laughter echoed, Sang-ho's laughter. He was still teasing Tae-min about Baek Ha-ryun.
"You really flirted with her?" he said, while shaking his head with a grin. "Do you even know who she is?"
Tae-min looked out the window. "You told me already. Baek Ho's daughter."
"The Baekho Group, Tae-min," Sang-ho corrected him, his tone was half-amused, half-serious. "They're not just a mob,... they're an empire. You could call them one of the Four Gods of Seongrim. Each mob controls a corner of the city… but Baekho? They own the whole damn center. Politicians, cops, CEOs, they all eat out of their hands."
He took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke filed up the car. "And Ha-ryun… she's the queen who'll inherit it all. Everyone who crosses her ends up dead, not by her hands, but by someone else's. People just… disappear."
Tae-min didn't react. His expression remained still, distant, as if he didn't fear death anymore.
Sang-ho noticed that and smirked. "You really don't scare easily, huh?"
"I've already lost everything once," Tae-min said quietly. "What's left to lose?"
For a moment, Sang-ho's grin faltered. Then he nodded, impressed. "You're something else, kid."
The rest of the drive was filled with silence, the kind of silence that didn't need to be broken.
Days passed.
Unlike Seongrim, Nampo had it's usual rhythm, grey skies, quiet streets, the scent of instant noodles and exhaust in the air. Tae-min spent his mornings jogging, his evenings cleaning, cooking, waiting for the call that never came. For once, life felt… still.
But that stillness wasn't peace. It was anticipation.
When the call finally came, it was just after his morning jog.
"Coffee shop. Now," Sang-ho's voice said on the other end. No greeting and no explanation.
Tae-min threw on a jacket and went.
The café was empty except for Sang-ho, sitting at his usual spot near the window, cigarette smoke curling in lazy circles above his head. The barista had already flipped the sign to Closed.
"You made it," Sang-ho said, gesturing for him to sit. "Good."
Tae-min sat opposite him, silent.
For a moment, Sang-ho just stared at the coffee in front of him, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he reached into his coat pocket and placed something on the table.
It was a gun.
Black. Clean. Cold.
Tae-min stared at it. His heart didn't race, not exactly, but the sight of it brought a rush of emotions he hadn't felt since his father died.
"For protection," Sang-ho said simply.
Tae-min looked up at him. "Protection from who?"
"From anyone," Sang-ho replied. "You're getting tougher clients now. Not the usual sad-face or smiley-face ones. Real ones. People who'll try to cheat you. Or hurt you."
Tae-min's gaze lingered on the gun. "You think I'll need this?"
"I know you will," Sang-ho said. His tone carried the weight of experience. Then, after a pause, his expression hardened. "Do Jin got arrested."
Tae-min blinked. "What?"
"Yesterday," Sang-ho said, voice dropping. "He got picked up while we were in Seongrim. They're pinning fake charges on him. Same trick they used on the European."
The air shifted. The quiet hum of the coffee machine in the back seemed louder now.
Sang-ho clenched his fists on the table. His jaw tightened, eyes burning with quiet fury. "I told him not to go out alone, but he wanted to help with the deliveries. Cops showed up like they were waiting for him."
He leaned back, exhaling sharply. "I've seen this before. They're trying to gut my crew from the inside. First the European (Vlad), now Do Jin."
"Who's behind it?" Tae-min asked.
Sang-ho looked up, meeting his eyes. "The same people who've been behind everything, the two rival gangs in Nampo. The Red Pins and Black Runners. But this time…" He paused. "…they're not working alone. I can feel it. Someone's helping them."
He tapped the table twice, grounding himself. Then his tone shifted, softer but resolute.
"That's why I'm trusting you with this," he said, nodding to the gun. "You're not a rookie anymore. You've proven yourself. You think before you act. You stay calm when it matters. That's rare."
He slid a phone across the table. "I sent you a new list."
Tae-min unlocked it. The list was longer than usual and the emojis were gone. No sad faces, no smiley faces. Just names, addresses, and amounts.
"These aren't random clients," Sang-ho said. "They're tied to people that matter. Some of them won't pay. Some will try to run. Some might even know things about what's happening to us."
He looked at Tae-min, he was dead serious. "So be careful. You're not just collecting debt anymore, you're walking into someone else's game."
Tae-min pocketed the phone, then glanced again at the gun on the table.
He picked it up, slow, deliberate, and felt its weight. It wasn't heavy, but it felt heavier than anything he'd ever carried.
"I'll manage," he said.
Sang-ho's lips curved into a faint smile. "I know you will."
Outside, the rain began to fall, soft at first, then steady.
Tae-min stood, tucked the gun inside his jacket, and walked out into the storm. The city was quiet, but it felt like something had shifted, like the calm before thunder.
And for the first time since joining Sang-ho, he didn't feel like a collector.
He felt like a soldier.