The fight between Gun-seok and Tae-min began with an eerie silence, the kind that settles right before a storm tears open the sky.
The road was dead silent after the last echo of gunfire. Only the wind moved, brushing against broken glass, smoking car hoods, and the lifeless bodies scattered across the asphalt. The air smelled like metal and ash, the taste of violence hanging thick on the tongue.
Gun-seok stood tall amidst the ruin. His breathing was steady, controlled. His presence alone felt like a storm that hadn't passed yet, more destruction waiting just beneath the surface. His coat was torn at the shoulder, blood splattered across his cheek. Yet his eyes burned with a calm, almost chilling rage.
Tae-min stood across from him, matching his stance. His breathing was steady, but his hands trembled slightly from the surge of adrenaline. His white shirt, which was once clean, was stained with soot and blood. His knuckles were raw, scraped open from earlier clashes. He'd been in fights before, sure, but this one…
This one was different.
This was survival.
Gun-seok smirked, rolling his shoulders as he cracked his neck.
"You're good, kid. Real good," he said, voice low and amused. "But not good enough."
Tae-min didn't reply. He simply lowered his center of gravity, tightening his stance. His eyes locked on Gun-seok, not blinking, not wavering.
And then it began.
At first, Tae-min seemed able to match Gun-seok blow for blow. Every strike he threw came with precision; every block was clean; every counter was calculated. He fought like someone who'd learned through repetition, through drills, through technique honed over time.
Gun-seok, however…
Gun-seok fought like someone born inside violence.
He moved with the reflexes of a man who had survived hundreds of battles, a man who had brawled in alleys, clubs, ports, prisons, everywhere life could break a person. His instincts were sharper than most men's logic.
Gun-seok lunged first, throwing a heavy punch aimed at Tae-min's jaw. Tae-min parried and countered with a jab to the ribs, then a quick knee straight into the older man's stomach. Gun-seok grunted, but barely budged.
His counterstrike came like a hammer. A hook slammed into the side of Tae-min's head, a blow so heavy it made the younger man stumble sideways.
The rhythm of the fight shifted instantly.
Tae-min's composure wavered under the raw ferocity of Gun-seok's attacks. The veteran's strikes were brutal, efficient, almost primal. Tae-min dodged one blow, countered another, but the onslaught didn't stop. Gun-seok pressed forward like a predator that smelled weakness.
Tae-min threw a straight punch aimed at Gun-seok's chest, but the older man ducked beneath it effortlessly and wrapped his arms around Tae-min's waist.
With a roar, Gun-seok executed a devastating German suplex.
The ground shook on impact.
Before Tae-min could regain his breath, Gun-seok maintained his grip, lifting him for another suplex, this time hurling him across the hood of a nearby car. The metal caved in under Tae-min's weight.
Tae-min gasped for air, vision spinning, chest burning.
Gun-seok wasn't done.
He grabbed Tae-min by the neck with one arm, lifting him off the ground with terrifying ease. He prepared for a brutal chokeslam, but as he hurled Tae-min downward, the younger fighter twisted mid-air, slipping out of his grip at the last second.
Tae-min used the momentum to swing his legs up, hooking them around Gun-seok's neck. From there, he unleashed a barrage of punches to the veteran's face.
Each punch struck with a sharp, echoing thud.
Gun-seok's head snapped back with every blow, blood splattering, skin splitting, yet he only laughed.
"You're punches tickle!" he shouted, voice echoing through the empty street. "If you want to win, kid, you better put your whole damn soul into every attack!"
With raw strength, Gun-seok grabbed both of Tae-min's arms and flung him like a ragdoll.
Tae-min crashed through the windshield of a nearby car, glass exploding everywhere.
The fight was growing deadlier by the minute.
Meanwhile, far away from the chaos, Sang-ho and Soo-jin arrived at Seongrim, to the towering headquarters of Chairman Seo. The building loomed like a silent fortress, its windows reflecting the city like an unblinking eye.
The guards recognized the two men instantly and allowed them through without hesitation. Inside, the atmosphere was still, unnervingly still, as if the entire building was holding its breath.
Sang-ho and Soo-jin bowed deeply the moment Chairman Seo turned to face them. His expression was unreadable, carved from cold stone.
Sang-ho began cautiously.
"Chairman… it's about Gwon Tae-sik. He's planning to..."
"I know," Chairman Seo interrupted softly.
The two men froze.
Seo's voice remained calm, almost too calm. He clasped his hands behind his back and gazed out the window overlooking the vast cityscape.
"I've known about Gwon Tae-sik's ambitions for years. His desire to destroy the Jinho Association. His obsession with taking Nampo for himself."
He paused.
"I even know about the mole he planted among my men."
Sang-ho's eyes widened. Even Soo-jin, who rarely showed emotion, furrowed his brow.
Seo smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it.
"Still… your loyalty is appreciated. You've fought hard against a man who once stood beside me. But now…"
He turned, facing them fully, his gaze sharp enough to cut steel.
"It's time I deal with my old friend myself."
He stepped closer.
"Do not concern yourselves with Gwon Tae-sik any longer. I'll handle him."
The weight of his words was absolute.
Sang-ho and Soo-jin bowed once more before leaving, their minds already shifting back to Tae-min… and Vlad.
Back on the bloodstained street, the fight between Gun-seok and Tae-min had descended into pure savagery.
Gun-seok grabbed a jagged piece of metal, likely torn from the wreckage, and swung it with all the fury of a man who refused to die quietly. The sound of the metal slicing through the air echoed across the destroyed road.
Tae-min staggered back, barely dodging the strike. He was bruised, bloodied, exhausted… yet his eyes glowed with cold, unshaken focus.
He refused to lose.
He refused to die here.
With steady breath, Tae-min reached beside a fallen body and picked up a small knife. His grip tightened around the handle, knuckles whitening.
Gun-seok smirked, as he was half amused, half impressed.
Under the flickering streetlight, the two men circled each other. Blood dripped onto the cracked pavement, mixing into the dirt. Their shadows twisted and danced across the ruined street like dueling ghosts.
The storm between them hadn't reached its end.
Not yet.
And as they closed the distance once more, one question lingered in the air, heavy, electric, inevitable:
Who would win this fight?