The world was warm once.
Before the blood, before the screams, before the name Crimson Bandit stained his destiny—there was laughter.
Kang Jinhyuk stood beneath the apricot tree outside their cottage, watching as Namgung Yura's hair shimmered under the late afternoon sun. Her smile was the kind that could melt winter, radiant and stubbornly pure, and the way she scolded him made his heart ache even now.
You can't fix everything with fists, Jinhyuk, she used to say, tapping his forehead lightly. Sometimes… strength means knowing when to stop fighting.
And he would laugh, pulling her close, teasing in his low voice,
Then you married the wrong man, Yura. Because I was born to fight the world for you.
She'd laugh too, hiding her blush behind delicate hands so gentle, so unreal. Then there was his son, tiny and bright, running barefoot through the grass, wooden sword in hand, shouting,
Father! I'll be stronger than you one day!
Jinhyuk could still feel the weight of that small body in his arms.. The soft warmth.. The smell of apricot blossoms…
Then…fire…
Then…blood…
Then…silence…
His son's laughter was replaced by the crackle of burning wood. His wife's warmth replaced by the chill of an unmarked grave. And somewhere beyond the smoke, he heard the whisper of betrayal...the Namgung Clan's seal, burned into his memory like a brand.
Jinhyuk's eyes snapped open. The portal world's crimson skies glowed above him. His hand was trembling. He inhaled slowly, forcing the memories back into the corner of his mind where they could no longer burn him alive.
Enough dreaming, he muttered. It's time to forge the living.
Around him stood five recruits...rough, scarred, and wild-eyed. Bandits from different corners of the Black Fang, hand-picked by their commander to test Jinhyuk's leadership in simulated combat. None looked particularly disciplined. But Jinhyuk saw something in them, the same hunger, the same broken edge that he had.
Listen up, Jinhyuk began, voice low but cutting through the murmurs. This isn't about who swings hardest. It's about who survives longest. You'll learn that real strength is knowing when to strike and when to disappear.
One of the men, tall and broad-shouldered, smirked. You talk like a general, not a bandit. Let's see if you can bleed like one.
The others chuckled. Jinhyuk didn't flinch. Instead, his lips curled into a faint grin.
Challenge accepted. If I'm still standing after this, you follow my orders. If not, you can go back to robbing farmers.
A short woman with crimson streaks in her hair Dan Sae-Ryeo crossed her arms, half-smiling. You're confident, I'll give you that. Just don't expect me to clean up after your corpse, 'Leader.'
Jinhyuk tilted his head slightly. Good. I prefer my team with teeth.
The training ground shimmered into existence—an illusion crafted within the portal world. It simulated dense forest terrain filled with shifting traps and hostile illusions. It wasn't meant to kill, but it hurt enough to make one wish it did.
Their mission: Ambush and survive against simulated pursuers.
Simple in theory. Deadly in execution.
Formations, Jinhyuk ordered calmly. No loud movements. Watch the air pressure. The illusion creates wind direction to trick your sense of sound. Follow my signals.
The recruits looked skeptical. But within moments, they realized...Jinhyuk didn't just move; he vanished. Every footstep, every breath, every motion was controlled. The world itself seemed to bend around his silence.
This guy's… not normal, one muttered, barely audible.
He's reading the terrain like it's written on paper, whispered another.
Jeok-Ma's dry laughter echoed faintly in Jinhyuk's head.
You're finally acting like a leader, boy. Use them. Shape them. The weak need guidance, and the strong need reason to follow.
Jinhyuk's jaw tightened. They're not tools.
They're soldiers. And soldiers die. Learn that truth before they bleed for nothing.
The forest flickered. A pulse of energy struck from above, arrows made of pure energy whistled through the air.
Down! Jinhyuk commanded.
All five dropped instantly. He rolled to the side, eyes scanning the trajectory. In one swift motion, he picked up a fallen branch, infused it with internal energy, and hurled it toward a ridge.
The branch struck, detonating a shimmer of light.
An illusion shattered...revealing three hostiles.
Move! he barked.
The squad burst forward, each following his cues. Jinhyuk coordinated silently, flanking motions, distraction calls, and movement angles that flowed like choreography. He wasn't just fighting; he was conducting a deadly symphony.
When one recruit tripped a hidden rune, Jinhyuk dove in, pushing him aside just as the ground exploded. Dirt showered the clearing, smoke curling upward. His arm bled, but his focus never wavered.
Next time, he said, gritting his teeth, you feel the wind under your step before you move.
The recruit nodded shakily. Y-Yes, Leader.
Dan Sae-Ryeo glanced at him, eyes narrowing. You risked your life for him.
Jinhyuk met her gaze. A dead comrade teaches nothing. A surviving one remembers forever.
Her smirk softened. Hmph. Maybe you're not just another bloodthirsty brute after all.
He ignored the warmth that rose in her voice. He couldn't afford to feel anything, not again.
Hours passed. The battle grew harsher. Each illusion more cunning, every trap more precise. But Jinhyuk's team adapted they began thinking like him.
Strike from shadows.
Use terrain as your ally.
Anticipate, don't react.
His internal energy flowed like water, sharp, flexible, and relentless. Even Jeok-Ma's voice, usually dripping with contempt, sounded impressed.
You're learning the true art of war. Strategy is the language of the strong. But tell me, boy… how long before you sacrifice one for victory?
Jinhyuk paused for a heartbeat. His hand trembled slightly.
I won't… I can't...
You will, Jeok-Ma sneered softly. Because when the time comes, vengeance will demand it. And when you choose power over mercy, you'll realize that's when you'll become unstoppable.
The final wave struck, a coordinated illusion of elite assassins. Jinhyuk signaled the team with a gesture, and they moved with terrifying unity. Smoke bombs, traps, diversions, every strategy they'd practiced came alive. The ambush turned into a slaughter.
When silence returned, they stood victorious. Sweat dripped from their brows. Wounds burned. But none were dead.
Sae-Ryeo grinned, wiping dirt from her cheek. Looks like your way works, Leader.
Jinhyuk offered a faint smile. It works because you trusted it.
She stared for a moment longer than necessary. You sound like a man who's led armies before.
He looked past her, eyes distant. I once led a family… and failed to protect it.
Her expression softened. Whoever they were… they'd be proud of who you're becoming.
For a fleeting second, the illusion of the apricot tree flickered behind his eyes. He laughter, the love...the warmth... Then it vanished, leaving only resolve.
No, Jinhyuk murmured. They'd mourn what I've become.
As the team departed the training field, Jeok-Ma's voice rumbled faintly within his consciousness.
You lead well, boy. Better than most generals I've seen in my time. But remember… compassion is a luxury of the living. Vengeance is the duty of the damned.
Jinhyuk looked at his hand, the faint tremor of exhaustion pulsing through his veins. Maybe so, he whispered, but I'll decide what kind of damned man I become.
He turned toward his team, his first real squad, bruised but united. In their eyes, he saw respect… and hope.
And for the first time in years, Kang Jinhyuk felt a flicker of something he thought long dead...a purpose....