Two days after the war, Nampo became hollow.
The streets were quieter, but the silence wasn't peace it was fear. Every alley still carried the smell of smoke and blood. Every man in the underworld knew something had happened, something big, but no one knew who caused it.
And that was exactly how Sang-ho wanted it.
The Office of Gwon Tae-sik
On the twelfth floor of an old office building overlooking Nampo's docks, Gwon Tae-sik sat behind his desk. His eyes were sharp, his hands gripping the armrests so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Files and reports were scattered across the desk, details about the Red Pins, the Black Runners, the Iron Wolves, the Dogs, all gone. Overnight.
He exhaled smoke from a thick cigar, his jaw tightening.
"Four divisions," he muttered. "Four crews… gone."
His right-hand man, Choi Gun-seok, stood a few feet away. Gun-seok had the stance of a soldier, he was straight, cold, composed. A scar cut across his neck, the kind that never let you forget war.
"Sir," Gun-seok said evenly, "these attacks were coordinated. Whoever did this had military precision. Not random violence."
Gwon Tae-sik leaned back, eyes narrowing.
"I know that, Gun-seok. This wasn't some turf fight. Someone planned this. Someone smart."
He stubbed out the cigar and reached for his glass of whiskey.
"Chairman Seo, maybe?"
Gun-seok shook his head. "Unlikely. My informant inside Seo's circle hasn't mentioned any orders. If he planned this, we'd know."
"Then who?"
Gun-seok didn't answer immediately. He turned toward the window, watching the city below, Nampo's fractured skyline, the docks still smoldering from the fires.
"I'll find out," he said finally. "Give me two days."
Gwon Tae-sik nodded slowly.
"Do that. And Gun-seok…"
"Sir?"
"If you find out who did this, kill them."
Gun-seok's lips curved slightly.
"Understood."
Sang-ho's Apartment – Nampo
In contrast, the atmosphere in Sang-ho's apartment was calm,deceptively so. Tae-min sat on the couch, scrolling through reports from their lookouts across Nampo. Every message was confirmation: their control was growing.
Sang-ho poured himself a drink, pacing in front of the window.
"We did it, Tae-min. Nampo's ours. The Wolves, the Dogs, all gone. Even Gwon Tae-sik's men are hiding."
Tae-min didn't look up.
"He's not hiding. He's watching. He's probably already sending someone to dig into what happened."
Sang-ho frowned, taking a sip.
"You think he suspects us?"
"Eventually, yes," Tae-min replied. "We can't keep this hidden forever. That's why we move first."
"Move first how?"
Tae-min stood, walking toward the small table covered in maps and photographs. He pointed to one of Gwon Tae-sik's known compounds, a warehouse compound guarded by armed men.
"We tell Chairman Seo everything," Tae-min said. "We tell him Tae-sik planned to overthrow him. Once Seo's convinced, he'll purge Tae-sik himself."
Sang-ho stared at him for a long moment, the idea settling in his mind.
"It's risky. If Seo doesn't believe us..."
"Then we're dead," Tae-min finished, his tone flat. "But if he does, we end this before it begins."
Sang-ho nodded.
"We'll do it. But before that…"
He turned back toward his desk and opened a drawer. Inside was a thick folder marked Weapons.
"We need firepower. Tae-sik's got a private arsenal. If things go south, we'll need to fight back."
He tossed the folder onto the table. Inside were details of a meeting in Seongrim, with a foreign arms dealer.
"We're going tonight. Just you and me. Vlad stays behind to hold Nampo."
Tae-min nodded.
"Fine. But if we're going into Seongrim… we'll be walking into Baekho territory."
Sang-ho smirked.
"Then let's hope your girlfriend doesn't get jealous."
Tae-min didn't reply.
Seongrim – The Warehouse
The warehouse sat at the edge of Seongrim, tucked between abandoned factories and a stretch of highway. It was well-guarded, foreign faces, tactical gear, assault rifles. The dealer was American, tall and broad, his beard streaked with gray.
"Name's Miles Carter," he said, extending a gloved hand. "Former Marine, current entrepreneur. You the guys from Nampo?"
Sang-ho shook his hand, smiling.
"Yeah. You got the stuff?"
Carter motioned to one of his men, who pulled a tarp off a table. Beneath it there were rifles, submachine guns, and crates of ammunition. The cold metallic smell filled the room.
"AKs, MAC-11s, shotguns, RPGs, take your pick. Fresh from Eastern Europe. I even got toys that'll punch through light armor."
Sang-ho whistled, impressed.
"You weren't kidding."
Carter grinned.
"Business is booming in your part of the world. Everyone's buying something."
Tae-min inspected a MAC-11, his movements calm but deliberate.
"We'll take a small batch tonight. Keep the rest ready."
Carter nodded, counting bundles of cash.
"Deal."
The transaction was smooth, too smooth, Tae-min thought. His eyes darted to the corners of the warehouse, scanning every shadow.
As they left, Sang-ho lit a cigarette.
"See? Easy. No blood, no problems."
Tae-min didn't respond, his expression cold.
"Nothing's ever easy."
They got in the car and drove off, the Seongrim skyline glittering behind them, a sea of lights masking the monsters beneath.
Meanwhile – Back in Nampo
Gun-seok stood at the edge of the docks, watching the men working below. He'd been following Sang-ho's crew for the past twelve hours, quietly, precisely.
He'd seen the new trucks, the sudden shipments, the influx of cash. He'd seen their control stretch through the slums and into the business district.
"Sang-ho," he murmured. "You really overplayed your hand."
He took out a small phone and dialed.
"Boss. I think I found our answer."
"Who?" came Gwon Tae-sik's voice through the static.
"Sang-ho. He's the one who took the city."
There was a pause, then a low, satisfied laugh.
"Good. Finally, a name."
Gun-seok's tone hardened.
"Orders?"
"Wait," Tae-sik said. "Don't strike yet. We'll make him think he's safe. Then we'll cut off his head."
Gun-seok smirked.
"Understood."
He hung up, sliding the phone into his coat. The night air was cold, but he barely felt it. His eyes were fixed on the city, on the streets where Sang-ho's men walked proudly.
"You think you've won," he said quietly. "But you haven't even started losing yet."