The warehouse door creaked as Tae-min and Vlad pushed it open, stepping into darkness that reeked of dust, oil, and old machinery. Their boots echoed against the concrete floor. Shadows moved across the room, men leaning against crates, casual but ready, and the client standing at the far end, calm as if he owned the entire building.
"Nice of you to come," the client said, smirking. His voice carried too easily in the open space. "But I'm afraid debts to dead people aren't mine to pay."
Something in Tae-min's gut tightened. This was it. The moment the air shifted, the client's calm was a mask. Gunmetal glinted from hidden hands, and the subtle click of weapons being cocked confirmed it.
Before Tae-min could react, the first shot rang out. The client's men had been ready. The bullet smashed into a crate inches from Tae-min's shoulder.
Instinct took over.
He dropped low behind an overturned metal table, the scent of gunpowder filling his lungs. Vlad slid beside him, eyes cold, calculating. "They're professionals," Vlad muttered in Russian. Tae-min nodded, gripping his pistol, fingers steady despite the roar around him.
Shots cracked through the air, ricocheting off metal beams. One man tried to flank them from the left, stepping on a loose piece of concrete. Tae-min pivoted, fire in his eyes, and neutralized him with two quick, precise shots.
Another came from above, a walkway, a sniper of sorts perched with a semi-automatic. Tae-min barely ducked in time, the bullet punching a hole through the wall behind him. He returned fire blindly, feeling the vibrations through his hands.
"Vlad, cover me!" Tae-min shouted, moving to the right. He shot around crates, ducking behind an overturned barrel as bullets ripped the air beside him. Each shot he fired found its mark, the combination of calm calculation and uncanny reflexes made him lethal. Even though it was his first gunfight he showed no hesitation in taking a person's life.
The fight dragged on. Time seemed to slow.
Bullets shredded the wooden crates, sending splinters into the air. Dust rose like smoke, making the dim fluorescent lights flicker. One of the client's men tried to charge, wielding a crowbar. Tae-min met him halfway, sliding under the swing, twisting the man's arm, and sending him crashing into a stack of crates.
The client laughed, a cold, detached sound. "Impressive… but not enough."
Then a second wave. Doors opened at the back, more men charging in, all of them coordinated, moving like a single unit. Tae-min had to keep repositioning, moving from cover to cover, each step measured. He fired with both hands, taking two down, then three more on his right flank. Vlad was no less deadly, his calm precision like ice cutting through chaos.
Tae-min's heart was racing, yet he felt… alive. Every sense sharpened. The fear that should have gripped him was gone, replaced by an almost mechanical focus.
A burst of automatic fire from a hidden corner tore through the crates nearby. The wood exploded, splinters flying into Tae-min's face. Pain, yes, but it only sharpened his reflexes. He returned fire, dodging a swipe from a knife-wielding thug who had managed to get past Vlad. One clean hit, and the man went down.
Minutes felt like hours. Every shot, every movement was a negotiation between life and death. Tae-min realized then, the client hadn't just been hiding behind words. He had set this entire place as a trap, hoping to overwhelm them.
And it almost worked.
Vlad fired at a man attempting a crossfire from above, the bullet knocking him down a rung of the metal staircase. Tae-min sprinted, bullets whizzing past, and vaulted over a fallen crate. He felt the heat from one of the ricocheting bullets graze his jacket.
Then came the sound he had been waiting for, the roar of engines outside. The familiar rumble of Sang-ho's arrival. A fleet of sleek cars screeched to a halt, Russians stepping out, automatic rifles in hand. The tide had shifted.
The remaining men hesitated, caught between the precision of Tae-min and Vlad and the overwhelming presence of Sang-ho's backup. Their formation collapsed into chaos.
Tae-min and Vlad moved in perfect synchrony. One by one, the client's men fell, incapacitated or fleeing. But the client himself had vanished into a back hallway, desperate to escape the carnage. Tae-min pursued, cornering him in a storage room, the gun steady at his side.
"Enough games," Tae-min said, voice calm, almost bored. "Pay up."
The client laughed nervously, hands raised. "I'll… I'll get it. Just don't..."
He didn't finish. Tae-min shoved him forward, pointing the gun, five bullets had become a symbol of total control. The men outside were being rounded up by Vlad.
The last of the client's men tried one final desperate charge. Tae-min pulled the trigger, spinning the cylinder, letting the bullet fly past the floor near their feet , the sound of the gun cocking was enough. They froze.
The client finally complied, handing over the envelope with the money. Tae-min took it, watching every movement. He was in control, completely.
Outside, Sang-ho and his Russians had cleared the area. Sang-ho then went on to drag the client to the back of a waiting van, tossing him inside, and slammed the doors and drove off. Vlad jumped in a car with Tae-min, guns still drawn, scanning for any surprises.
The car peeled out, tires screeching against the concrete.
Once they were a safe distance away, Tae-min and Vlad switched to another vehicle. The black sedan used earlier was left in a junkyard, destroyed, melted glass, dented panels, a small fire burning in the engine bay. All evidence erased.
Tae-min sat back, adrenaline still surging, yet strangely calm. His hands were steady, his breathing measured. "What's next?" he asked, glancing at Vlad.
Vlad smiled, shaking his head. "You're… something else, kid. And I mean that in a good way."
Tae-min's mind wandered to the envelope in his lap, 50,000 dollars heavier, but the thrill wasn't about money. It was about control, about knowing that he could step into chaos and survive. He was no longer just a loan shark. He was a force.
And he knew, somewhere deep inside, that this was only the beginning.