Detective Lee Do sat alone in his car, the city lights blurring against the rain‑soaked windshield.
He replayed the sting in his head.
The gunfire. The screams. The civilians caught in the crossfire.
How many of them had picked up a gun because they felt like they had no other choice?
And what did that make him?
The good guy?
Or just another man with a weapon pretending he was saving the world?
He slammed the steering wheel, frustration boiling over.
This wasn't justice anymore.
It was survival.
And survival had no clean lines.
Meanwhile, Moon Baek stood in his office, staring at a wall plastered with newspaper clippings and photos of high‑ranking officials.
Each one circled in red.
Each one complicit in building a world that chewed people up and spat them out.
Baek's fingers brushed against one photo in particular — a smiling politician.
"You made me invisible," he muttered. "Now I'll make you afraid."
The phone rang.
Baek answered without hesitation.
"It's done," his lieutenant said. "The guns are in Seoul."
Baek smiled faintly.
"Good. Time to turn up the volume."
Back at the precinct, Lee Do walked in to find his superior waiting.
"You're off the case," the commissioner said.
Lee Do froze. "What?"
"This isn't a police matter anymore. National Security is taking over. You're done."
Lee Do stepped forward, voice low.
"If you take me off this, people die."
The commissioner didn't blink.
"They're already dying."
For the first time, Lee Do realized something:
He wasn't just fighting Baek.
He was fighting the system.
And the system didn't want to win.