And then—
Flanders only remembered a blazing wall of fire, searing bright and merciless.
His home, his father's clinic, his parents, his younger brother—they had all perished in that inferno. No… to be precise, they had already been killed before the fire even began.
If he hadn't snuck out of the house that night, he would've died with them.
Countless times, he'd asked himself—Why didn't I die too? If he had, at least he wouldn't be living with this endless torment.
Later, Martin found him. Funded his education in medicine. Because Martin needed a personal doctor after the loss of his father, who'd once served that role.
At the time, Flanders had felt truly grateful. He studied medicine with every ounce of his being, determined to repay the "kindness."
Until, one day, he overheard a few men chatting—and learned the truth. His family hadn't died by accident. Martin had caused it. He had faked being critically injured and sent to the clinic, using it to lure his enemies there.
The result? Flanders' entire family was wiped out in the ensuing assault. Martin, meanwhile, took advantage of the chaos to kill every last one of his rivals. From that day on, the entire slum became his.
After learning the truth, Flanders had wanted nothing more than to kill Martin then and there, to avenge his family. But over the years, Martin's power grew and his loyal men multiplied. So after completing his studies in the U.S., Flanders rejected offers from both American hospitals and his home country, returning to Martin's side to become a shadowy underworld physician—a "black doctor."
It was all so easy for a doctor to make someone die quietly, undetected. He had planned to wait until Martin was wounded and kill him then.
But then—he saw Martin's wanted posters. Among the faces were Roy and Leonardo.
A bold new idea began to take root.
Flanders had studied abroad for years. He knew who Roy and Leonardo were in Hollywood. He knew how famous they were globally. Martin had grown so arrogant, so self-satisfied, that he didn't even bother to check their identities before issuing those bounties.
In any other country, Martin would have been dead in a gutter within a week for making that mistake.
And Roy's fiancée—she was none other than the heiress of the Moran family. How could a family like that sit by and watch one of their own get hunted down by a gangster from some tiny country?
So Flanders shelved his plan for the time being. He stayed low, waiting.
Killing Martin alone wasn't enough anymore. As someone Martin trusted, Flanders knew his greatest secret: the location of a hidden home, where Martin kept his lover and child.
He'd only learned of the child's existence because the kid had fallen ill. Flanders had been blindfolded and driven there to treat him—Martin hadn't even trusted him with the address.
God knew how hard it had been to stop himself from pulling a gun and shooting Martin the moment he saw the child's smile.
A cold-blooded killer like Martin could have a happy family. He could be called "dad" with a grin. But his father—who saved lives his entire life—had to die with his family in flames?
From that moment, Flanders knew: that killing Martin wasn't enough.
He wanted to destroy him.
Take everything away. Make him taste that same agony. Didn't he hide his family so carefully? The more he hid them, the more it meant he cared. And the more he cared—the more Flanders wanted them to die.
Die—all of them!
He opened his mouth in a silent, crazed laugh, tears streaming from his eyes.
Meanwhile, Roy and Dong-ge were discussing their escape options.
Dong-ge and his team had been on the film set for months. They knew Roy could handle himself—maybe not with guns, but his hand-to-hand skills were no joke.
No one thought he'd be a burden. But with his and Laila's identities, even a minor injury would cause chaos if word got out. They still hadn't come up with a solid plan.
Just then, Laila arrived.
She shared the results of her recent conversation.
After hearing her out, the men were stunned into silence.
Roy was used to her pulling off the impossible—so he wasn't too surprised. But Dong-ge and the others looked completely thrown off, their expressions nothing short of bizarre.
These were seasoned operatives. They could immediately tell from her words that the plan was solid—very solid. If carried out as described, their chances of success were nearly 100%.
They were thrilled that rescuing her seemed finally within reach—but what shocked them was: why was this plan her idea?
Not only had she come up with a full-blown escape strategy, but she'd also somehow brought a powerful ally into their fold.
And not just anyone—Flanders.
Since arriving, they had heard the name "Flanders" almost as much as "Martin."
Martin's most trusted strategist. The legendary doctor who had saved countless lives. The man who'd studied in the U.S. but returned to serve his old boss loyally…
And now Laila said she'd turned him? That he had promised to help them?
"Miss Moran… are you sure he's being sincere?" Dong-ge couldn't help but voice the concern in everyone's hearts.
What he wanted to ask was, "Are you sure you weren't played?" That sly-looking man could very well be laying a trap, trying to pry secrets out of her.
Could he have figured out who they were?
Laila could see right through him. "What? Worried I exposed your identities?" she asked with a teasing smile.
Seeing them glance at each other with sheepish expressions, she knew she'd guessed right.
"Relax. I didn't tell him who you are."
Just as they were about to breathe a sigh of relief, her next sentence nearly choked them on their spit.
She said, "Flanders already knows who you are."
"What? How?!" Dong-ge panicked instantly.
This was a matter of life and death. He had brought these men here with no intention of having them die in some godforsaken slum. If that man knew who they were, no matter how good their combat skills were, they wouldn't survive against an entire gang coming after them.
Sure, Martin's men were mostly newly recruited amateurs. But even baby chicks can peck a man to death if there are enough of them.