When Tae-min returned to Nampo, dawn was already crawling over the horizon.
The drive back had been quiet, too quiet, and his mind replayed the night like a dream he couldn't wake from. The flash of neon, the smell of cigarettes and perfume, Baek Ha-ryun's eyes locking with his. Her voice, cold but magnetic.
He laid on his bed that morning, eyes half-open, the city sounds bleeding through the thin walls of his apartment. For the first time, he didn't feel small in Nampo anymore. After Seongrim, this place felt… dull. Like the calm before a storm.
By late morning, he forced himself up, showered, and headed out, the envelope of cash tucked in his jacket pocket.
The bell over the coffee shop door chimed softly as he entered. The place smelled like roasted beans and cheap cologne.
The barista was wiping down the counter, humming faintly to herself, while Sang-ho sat in his usual spot near the window, cigarette between his fingers, half a cup of coffee untouched in front of him.
When he saw Tae-min, his lips curved into that familiar grin. "You're late. Thought you died out there."
Tae-min sat across from him, sliding the envelope across the table. "Had to handle something."
Sang-ho raised a brow. "Something?"
Tae-min leaned back, calm as ever. "A casino job in Seongrim. The client didn't want to pay."
"Ha! Let me guess, you scared the life outta him again?"
"Something like that."
Sang-ho chuckled, sipping his coffee. "You're getting good at this, kid. What happened next?"
So Tae-min told him, from the casino lights to the bodyguards, to the woman who silenced an entire street with a single word. At first, Sang-ho listened with amusement, shaking his head at every bold detail. But the moment Tae-min said Baek Ha-ryun, everything about him changed.
The smirk disappeared.
The cigarette stopped halfway to his mouth.
He stared at Tae-min for a long second. "You're kidding."
"No."
Sang-ho leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "You've got no idea what kind of fire you're playing with, kid. The Baekho Group isn't some street gang, they own Seongrim. You so much as breathe wrong around that woman, and you're gone."
"She didn't seem angry," Tae-min said.
"She doesn't need to seem anything. That woman's like a blade, quiet until it cuts."
The two sat in silence for a moment, the sound of the espresso machine filling the space between them. Then Sang-ho chuckled again, softer this time. "Still… damn. You made an impression on her. That's rare."
He took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled. "Anyway, enough about Seongrim. I've got news."
He leaned forward, voice dropping low. "I paid the bail for the European last night."
Tae-min raised an eyebrow. "Vlad?"
"Yeah. He's out. And we're visiting a client together today, a dangerous one. This guy's been dodging payments for months. Rumor is, he's got ties to both the rival gangs."
Tae-min's expression didn't change. "Then we should be careful."
"That's the idea."
They waited a while. The coffee shop stayed quiet, the hum of morning life outside slowly picking up, cars, vendors, chatter. Then the door opened, and a tall man stepped inside.
He was hard to miss. Blond hair cropped short, eyes the color of frost, jaw set like steel. He carried himself with that same quiet dominance Tae-min had seen before, the kind of dominance that didn't need to prove anything.
"Vlad," Sang-ho said, standing to greet him.
The European grinned, shaking his hand. "You look older every time I see you, Sang-ho."
"Yeah, and you look like trouble."
Vlad laughed, the sound loud and warm. Despite the heavy aura around him, there was a strange charm in the way he talked, it was disarming, even. He walked up to the counter, winking at the barista. "Americano, two sugars. I missed this place."
The barista smiled as she made the order. Sang-ho rolled his eyes.
Turning to Tae-min, Vlad extended his hand. "You must be the new kid. Heard a lot about you. Sang-ho says you're quiet, efficient, and terrifyingly calm. That last one I like."
Tae-min shook his hand. "Nice to meet you."
"You too. Let's see if the stories are true."
The three of them shared a brief moment of silence before Sang-ho stood, finishing his coffee. "You two head out first. I've got a call to make."
"Where to?" Vlad asked.
"Warehouse district," Tae-min replied. "Guy's been dodging payments. Might be working with the other two groups."
Vlad's grin faded slightly, replaced by something sharper. "Then we'll go together. I know the place."
Outside, the morning sun hit the cracked pavement. Tae-min and Vlad walked to the car, an old black sedan with tinted windows. Vlad got behind the wheel, humming some old Russian tune as he started the engine.
"You ever get tired of this work?" Tae-min asked after a few minutes on the road.
Vlad laughed quietly. "Tired? Maybe. But I was born for it. Men like us, we don't choose this life. It chooses us."
Tae-min stared out the window as the streets of Nampo blurred past.
"Maybe," he said softly. "Or maybe we just stopped trying to leave."
Vlad looked at him with a small smile. "You sound like Sang-ho."
The rest of the drive was silent.
When they finally arrived, the road turned narrow and quiet. The warehouse loomed ahead, rusty metal, broken windows, the kind of place that reeked of secrets.
Cars were parked outside. A little too many. And the faint sound of voices echoed inside, rough, loud, careless.
Vlad parked the car, turned off the engine, and looked at Tae-min. "Still want to go in?"
Tae-min opened the door. "We came this far."
The two men stepped out, walking toward the warehouse. The closer they got, the heavier the air felt, as it was thick with tension and the faint smell of oil and gunpowder.
Inside, they could already see silhouettes moving between crates. Dozens of them.
Vlad cracked his neck and smiled. "Looks like we found the right place."
Tae-min's hand brushed against the gun in his jacket. "Yeah," he said quietly. "But I don't think they're here to talk."