The dojo was silent tonight. Only the slow whirring of the ceiling fan accompanied Jung Kok, who sat cross-legged in the corner of the training room. The dim lights cast soft shadows over his tired face. The wound on his shoulder was still bandaged, and his breathing was calm—but his mind wasn't.
The sliding door opened quietly. Min stepped in with a plastic bag of medicine and food.
"You haven't eaten since morning," he said, sitting across from Jung Kok.
Jung Kok took the food slowly, nodding without a word. They ate in silence for a while.
"You can't stay quiet like this, Kok. The enemy won't wait for us to recover," Min said calmly.
"I know. But if I act like this, I'll make mistakes," Jung Kok replied, his eyes still lowered.
Min didn't respond. He observed Jung Kok's body language, trying to read what was beneath the calm. He knew the burden on his friend's shoulders wasn't just physical—it was the looming threat hiding in the shadows.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, Jung Joon sat in the living room of his new hideout, eyes fixed on a tablet screen. Across from him, a man with thick glasses presented several documents.
"This information is enough to stir doubt within his group," said the man.
Jung Joon nodded with a faint smirk. "Make sure those documents reach the right hands. Let my brother destroy his own trusted allies."
He lit a cigarette. In the swirling smoke, his mind was already deep in the next psychological war.
In a sleek corporate building, Rina sat at a negotiation table, facing a silver-haired man who held major shares in a weapons company.
"Your investment will not go to waste," Rina said as she unveiled a project development slide.
But before the meeting ended, her phone vibrated. A short message appeared:
"The time is near. Do not fail."
Rina gripped her phone tightly. Her professional smile remained, but her eyes… a flicker of unease had begun to show.
Later that night, Min walked alone toward an old abandoned warehouse. Disguised as a courier, he entered a small post office that still operated nearby.
"I'm here to check last week's delivery. There was a mistake," he told the clerk.
Using his cunning skills, Min accessed old records and discovered that the note Jung Kok had received earlier came from a remote location—the former base of one of Hwang's old enemies, supposedly disbanded years ago.
"Who still dares to use this address…?" he muttered to himself.
Back at the dojo, tension was rising. One of the new recruits, Imran, had started acting suspiciously—often sneaking out at night without reason, refusing to fully follow orders.
Min suggested an investigation and firm action.
But Jung Kok objected. "If we start doubting our own without proof, we're no better than them."
Min pretended to agree, but in his mind, he was already noting down names to watch more closely.
Night deepened.
Suddenly, a small explosion occurred outside the dojo—just enough to shake the windows and spark panic.
Jung Kok and several others rushed out.
In the midst of the smoky haze, a shadowy figure appeared briefly—dressed in black, moving in a way that seemed familiar.
"Hey!" shouted Jung Kok, giving chase.
But as always, the figure disappeared into the night. Min appeared behind him, breathing steadily, showing no sign of surprise.
"He came again…" Min said quietly.
Jung Kok looked down the empty alley, his chest heaving.
"This time, I'll find him—no matter what."