The sea fog rolled thick around the hidden island, as if nature itself was sworn to silence. The world outside would never know what occurred here—not the births, not the legends, and certainly not the legacy forming deep within the halls of the Park Family estate.
Inside the main house, under dim paper lanterns and stone walls covered in ancient calligraphy, the air was tense but quiet. A child's cry broke through that silence, sharp and raw.
Ian Park stood in the corner, arms crossed, dressed in a training gi damp with sweat. At 14 years old, he was already the talk of the few who dared whisper his name within the island. His hair was damp from his morning sparring session, and two summon maids carefully wiped his shoulders with cloths—he didn't even flinch.
The baby's cry intensified.
Ian's father emerged from the birthing room, blood on his sleeves, but a tired smirk on his face. His voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"It's a boy."
Ian stepped forward. "What will his name be?"
"Sangcheol," his father said. "Sangcheol Park."
Ian looked toward the infant being held gently by the midwife. The baby's hair was darker than Jinyoung's had been, thick and already curling slightly near the temples. The moment their eyes met, the newborn fell silent. His eyes—dark, focused, and eerily composed—seemed to study Ian back.
"He's not ordinary," Ian murmured.
"None of us are," said the old man who had been silently observing from behind the lanterns.
It was their grandfather. No name. No background. Only whispers.
He wore ceremonial robes, his long white hair tied neatly, and a blade sheathed at his side that hadn't been drawn in years—not because he couldn't, but because no one dared provoke it. At his side stood two of his subordinates, cloaked in fog-colored uniforms with masks hiding their faces.
"My sons grow like shadows," the grandfather said. "Ian... Jinyoung... now Sangcheol. The blood runs strong. But beware—power without mystery is nothing more than noise."
The summons behind Ian bowed, silently acknowledging the elder Park's words.
Later That Night
Ian stood in the moonlight courtyard, still holding Sangcheol in his arms. Jinyoung waddled clumsily behind him, tugging on Ian's black silk shirt, babbling incoherently.
"Hold him, Jinyoung," Ian said with a soft grin, kneeling down.
Jinyoung frowned, took one look at the baby, and poked his cheek with a squeaky "boop."
"He's small," Jinyoung declared proudly.
"He'll grow," Ian said. "One day... you both will be strong."
From the trees above, a cloaked figure observed the boys. Not a summon. Not a servant. But one of the elders' subordinates—a mysterious agent named Han Seok, known only by the name "Shadow Lantern." Even Ian didn't know the full scope of his strength. But he was always near when something important happened.
The Park Family had layers.
Ian had his summons—his loyal, customizable war machines, elegant and deadly.
But his father? He had the Iron Fang Unit, composed of retired assassins trained in Cold War-era warfare. No records. No fingerprints.
And the grandfather? His subordinates were called the Gray Cloaks, men and women trained since birth on the island, bound by blood pacts and ancient traditions lost to the outside world.
The Park Family didn't just have wealth.
They had a network.
Training Grounds – One Week Later
Ian was pummeling one of his summons with bare fists. The bot was shaped like a gorilla, armor plated, and programmed to learn and adapt. But Ian moved like water, hitting pressure points mid-air, flipping the bot over, and slamming it into the granite flooring.
From a distance, Sangcheol's cradle sat under a camphor tree, with Anna the ex-spy maid rocking him.
Jinyoung watched from a short stool, mouth wide open as Ian cracked his knuckles.
"Hyung is strong," he whispered to the baby. "You'll be strong too."
Anna glanced at them both. "They're growing faster than I expected. If this keeps up... we may witness another legend born before we even reach the outer world."
"Or," said Goro, folding his massive arms beside her, "we'll raise them to face something darker."
The Family Hall
A rare meeting was called. All three generations of the Park Family stood within the ancestral hall, the walls lined with swords, portraits, and ancient scrolls.
The grandfather looked at Ian with intent. "In five years, you will be of age. The outside world will begin to stir."
"I'm ready," Ian said, voice steel.
"No," the father corrected. "You will be ready. For now... train. Protect your brothers. Watch the fog. The outside is shifting."
Ian raised an eyebrow. "Because of the Pre-Generation?"
The grandfather's eye twitched, barely visible.
"Gapryong Kim is rallying the underworld," he murmured. "Fists are forming. The Yamazaki Syndicate is amassing power. The world is falling into factions."
Ian took a breath.
"And what is our role in this?"
The old man smiled.
"We do what the Park Family always does..."
"...We watch from the mist," Ian finished, nodding.
—Time Skip: 4 Years Later—
The clouds above the Park Island had grown darker, but not with storm. The air was shifting. The waves around the fog-hidden island seemed to pulse like a heartbeat. Something had changed.
Ian Park was now 18 years old.
The childish gleam in his eyes had sharpened into something colder, calmer. His frame was a carved statue—6'3", sculpted in steel. He didn't just look strong. He looked inevitable.
Every movement, every breath, exuded control. Not arrogance—but certainty.
He stood at the cliff edge of his family's private training facility, black coat flapping in the wind. The sea below churned as if sensing his aura.
Behind him stood Goro, his loyal summoned butler, silent and towering.
And next to Goro, stood a man no summon could match in presence—a human.
Dressed in gray robes lined with black silk, the man's face was hidden behind a porcelain oni mask. He radiated no aura. No warmth. Just mystery. His name was "Reed", and he served Ian's grandfather.
"I see the Young Master has matured," Reed said, voice soft, ageless.
Ian didn't turn. "You don't age, do you?"
"No. Nor do I remember when I began. Your grandfather only calls me when the world starts to tremble."
Ian smirked. "And it's trembling?"
"The underworld is stirring again. Gapryong's name is echoing through Seoul."
Inside the Park Family's Inner Chambers
The Park estate's hidden boardroom was a place even governments couldn't spy on. The hologram table flickered to life. Ian's father sat at the head of the table—now silver-haired, still massive, still lethal.
Ian stood beside him.
Jinyoung Park, now 6 years old, was calmly assembling a drone at the corner of the room with eerie focus.
Sangcheol Park, now 4 years old, watched in silence. He didn't speak much. But he listened to everything. He was sharp, tall for his age, and had already begun light physical training.
A mole under his left eye glimmered like a curse—or a crown.
A new force was growing inside him.
Scene: The Return of the Fist
News rippled across Korea's underworld: Gapryong Kim's name was spoken once again.
He had returned to Seoul.
Not to fight. But to run for office. He had gathered old allies, old enemies, and followers who believed in his vision of justice.
In public, he was a charismatic speaker, pushing for justice and equality.
In private, he was rebuilding something… something ancient.
And at the center of his vision, somewhere in the shadows, stood a man once thought missing: Tom Lee—now the tactical head of the old Pre-Generation remnants.
Scene: The Park Group Awakens
Ian entered the Vault of Hephaestus—his new inheritance.
Rows of experimental weapons, tech from overseas black markets, even anti-tank railguns, were housed here. The Park Group's arms division wasn't just alive—it was the unseen hand behind many world conflicts.
Ian had inherited not just money, but a kingdom of steel and influence.
Reed bowed before him, holding a sealed case.
"From your grandfather. Time you saw the reason the world fears the Park family."
Inside was a blade—not forged by metal, but grown in secret.
A memory steel katana, bound with black biotech tendrils. Alive.
"Each of your uncles and your grandfather wield a weapon like this. Living relics. This one—belongs to you now."
Ian lifted it, and it sang. The blade pulsed in tune with his heartbeat.
"I'll name it… Gado."
Elsewhere – Gapryong Kim's Office, Seoul
"Gapryong-nim," said his right-hand man Elite, stepping into the room.
Gapryong, now in his mid-30s, adjusted his tie. The clean-cut suit didn't hide the muscle beneath. His presence was still monstrous—but focused. Righteous.
"News?"
Elite nodded. "The Park Family has activated their heir. Ian Park is in play."
Gapryong narrowed his eyes. "I hoped they'd stay in the shadows. But if he's come forward… that means something worse is coming."
He turned to the window. The city glowed in distant lights.
"We must prepare. Not for war… but to prevent it."
Final Scene: Late Night on the Island
Ian stood on the rooftop of his training tower, shirt off, blade on his back. Sangcheol, now able to walk beside him, joined him.
"You always train alone," the boy said.
Ian looked down at his little brother and nodded.
"It's the only way to sharpen your will. Even Goro can't do that for me."
Sangcheol looked into the sky. "One day… I'll be strong like you."
Ian placed a hand on his head.
"You'll be stronger. But remember this…"
He looked into his little brother's eyes—the same ones Daniel would one day inherit.
"No matter how strong you become, hide your heart. The world doesn't deserve to see it."
Sangcheol blinked. Something in his brother's words felt final—like a prophecy.
To Be Continued...