Seoul, South Korea — Three Months Later
The man hanging upside down from the warehouse ceiling had been screaming for eleven minutes.
Kang Minjun was beginning to find it irritating.
"Mr. Hwang," he said, turning a page in the ledger on his lap. "I've asked you the same question three times."
The man suspended above the concrete floor trembled. Blood had dried beneath his nose, and his expensive shirt was soaked with sweat.
"I told you! I don't know!"
Minjun closed the ledger.
"That's unfortunate."
He nodded toward Yoon Taehwan.
Taehwan stepped forward and lowered the rope another meter.
Hwang screamed as his head approached the floor.
"WAIT!"
Minjun raised a finger.
Taehwan stopped.
"I'm listening."
Hwang's breathing came in ragged gasps.
"The accounts! There's another account!"
"Where?"
"Under my brother's name! The money's there!"
Minjun looked toward Baek Seongho.
Seongho checked the laptop on the nearby table.
"Found it."
"How much?"
"Eighty-seven million won."
Minjun smiled.
"There we are."
He stood, straightening the cuffs of his black shirt.
Hwang began sobbing.
"Please. I have a family."
Minjun stopped.
For the first time that evening, genuine amusement crossed his face.
"A family?"
He walked closer.
"Three months ago, you sent men to threaten a woman running a restaurant. You threatened to burn her business down if she didn't pay you."
Hwang shook his head frantically.
"I didn't know she was your mother!"
Minjun's smile disappeared.
"That's precisely the problem."
He crouched until their faces were level.
"You would have done it to anyone."
Hwang couldn't answer.
Minjun rose.
"Transfer the money. Every won you took from the businesses in this district gets returned. The remainder covers damages and compensation."
Seongho nodded.
"And him?"
Minjun looked toward the trembling man.
"His gambling operation is finished. Seize the records, collect the debts owed to the victims, and shut down every location."
Hwang's face twisted.
"You can't do that! Those businesses are mine!"
Minjun turned back.
"Were."
"You bastard! Do you know who protects me?"
Minjun studied him.
Then laughed.
It was a quiet, unpleasant sound.
"Mr. Hwang, I've spent three months dismantling organizations considerably more dangerous than yours. If you had someone capable of protecting you, he would already be here."
Hwang fell silent.
Minjun approached Taehwan.
"Lower him."
Taehwan complied.
Hwang collapsed onto the concrete.
He immediately tried crawling toward the exit.
Minjun placed one foot on his hand.
Hwang screamed.
"Listen carefully," Minjun said. "I gave you an opportunity to cooperate. You lied repeatedly, even after we showed you the evidence."
He applied more pressure.
A sickening crack echoed through the warehouse.
Hwang howled.
"Your right hand won't be signing another extortion contract anytime soon."
Minjun removed his foot.
"Get him medical attention. Then deliver him to the police with the evidence."
Seongho nodded.
Minjun headed toward the exit.
Behind him, Hwang continued crying.
He didn't look back.
Three months had changed the small crew beyond recognition.
What began as four teenagers training in a dilapidated boxing gym had become an organization of thirty-two carefully selected members.
Not thirty-two ordinary delinquents.
Fighters.
Athletes.
Former gang members who had demonstrated genuine ability and accepted Minjun's rules.
And, most importantly, people who had chosen to follow him.
They controlled several neighborhoods in Mapo, though Minjun disliked the word controlled.
Territory meant little if the people living there hated you.
Instead, he had established relationships with local businesses, repaired the damage caused by previous extortion crews, and created a network of legitimate income through security work, logistics, and several small investments.
The money wasn't extraordinary.
Not yet.
But it was clean enough to operate openly and profitable enough to support expansion.
The criminal organizations that had previously exploited those neighborhoods were gone.
Some had surrendered.
Others had been absorbed.
Those who refused had learned that Kang Minjun was not a man who negotiated indefinitely.
His reputation had grown accordingly.
In Seoul's underground circles, people had begun calling him something.
The Black Dragon.
Minjun hadn't chosen the name.
He found it rather nostalgic.
The Three Fangs
The boxing gym no longer resembled the abandoned building Minjun had first rented.
The walls had been reinforced.
New equipment lined the training area.
A second floor had been converted into offices and meeting rooms.
And beneath the gym, a renovated basement housed a private training facility.
That was where Minjun found his three original companions.
Seo Hajun was sparring against Yoon Taehwan.
Baek Seongho stood beside the ring, timing their exchanges.
Hajun attacked first.
His right leg flashed toward Taehwan's head.
The wrestler ducked and stepped inside.
Three months earlier, that would have ended the exchange.
Now Hajun anticipated the takedown.
He pivoted, framed against Taehwan's shoulder, and drove a knee toward his chest.
Taehwan twisted.
The knee missed.
He caught Hajun's supporting leg.
Hajun jumped, rotated his hips, and escaped before the throw could develop.
Both landed several feet apart.
Seongho whistled.
"Better."
Taehwan grinned.
"You're getting annoying."
Hajun wiped sweat from his forehead.
"Try catching me."
Taehwan moved.
His acceleration was startling for someone his size.
He closed the distance before Hajun could reset his stance.
A powerful shoulder throw followed.
Hajun twisted midair.
He landed on one hand, rolled, and sprang upright.
Then his fist struck Taehwan's jaw.
BAM!
Taehwan staggered.
Hajun smiled.
"Got you."
Taehwan touched his chin.
Then laughed.
"Yeah."
Minjun watched from the entrance.
Not bad.
Their development had exceeded his initial expectations.
Taehwan's wrestling had evolved into a terrifying combination of explosive takedowns, throws, and close-range striking.
Hajun had become a far more complete fighter, combining his natural kicking talent with refined boxing and exceptional mobility.
Seongho, meanwhile, had developed the most technically disciplined fighting style of the three.
His boxing was sharp.
His defense was excellent.
And his ability to read opponents had improved dramatically.
All three had crossed into a level where ordinary gang fighters were no longer meaningful opponents.
Against most crew executives, they could now hold their own.
But Minjun wanted more.
He entered the room.
"Enough."
The sparring stopped.
Hajun grinned.
"Boss."
Minjun raised an eyebrow.
"Since when do you call me that?"
"Since you started paying us."
Taehwan laughed.
Minjun removed his jacket.
"Good. Then earn your salary."
He stepped onto the mats.
"All three of you."
Seongho blinked.
"Together?"
"Yes."
Hajun cracked his knuckles.
"Finally."
Minjun smiled.
"Come on."
They attacked simultaneously.
Seongho moved first, launching a sharp jab toward Minjun's face.
Taehwan approached from the side.
Hajun circled behind.
Their coordination was impressive.
They had clearly practiced this.
Seongho's jab became a feint.
Taehwan shot for a takedown.
Hajun launched a spinning kick.
Three attacks.
Three angles.
Perfect timing.
Minjun smiled.
Then moved.
He caught Seongho's wrist.
Redirected Taehwan's momentum.
And stepped beneath Hajun's kick.
In one fluid motion, he threw Seongho into Taehwan and swept Hajun's supporting leg.
All three crashed onto the mats.
Silence.
Minjun looked down at them.
"Again."
Hajun groaned.
"I'm starting to hate that word."
They rose.
Attacked.
And fell again.
For the next fifteen minutes, the three strongest members of the Black Dragon organization attempted everything they knew.
They combined boxing, wrestling, kickboxing, feints, coordinated attacks, and improvised tactics.
Nothing worked.
Minjun didn't use Sovereign Instinct.
He didn't need it.
His body had continued evolving over the past three months.
His strength had increased.
His speed had improved.
And his martial comprehension had grown even sharper through constant observation and training.
He had yet to encounter anyone who could force him to fight seriously.
Finally, he ended the session.
A single palm strike sent Taehwan sliding backward.
A short hook dropped Hajun.
And a precise tap to Seongho's shoulder disrupted his balance, sending him onto the mat.
Minjun stood over them.
"Better."
Seongho stared at the ceiling.
"That's your assessment?"
"Yes."
Taehwan laughed breathlessly.
"I thought we were getting strong."
"You are."
Hajun sat up.
"Then why does fighting you feel worse every time?"
Minjun smiled.
"Because you're beginning to understand how much stronger you can become."
The Invitation
That evening, Minjun sat inside his office reviewing financial reports.
A knock came at the door.
"Enter."
Seongho stepped inside.
"We have a visitor."
"Who?"
"He says he's from Workers."
Minjun looked up.
That was interesting.
"Bring him in."
A few minutes later, a neatly dressed young man entered.
He wore glasses and carried a leather briefcase.
His expression was polite.
Too polite.
"Kang Minjun?"
"Yes."
"My name is Park Jinhyuk. I represent an organization that has taken considerable interest in your recent activities."
Minjun leaned back.
"Workers."
Jinhyuk smiled.
"So you've heard of us."
"Of course."
"Then you'll understand that our organization values talented individuals."
Minjun said nothing.
Jinhyuk opened his briefcase.
Inside was a contract.
"We would like to offer you a partnership."
Minjun glanced at the document.
"Partnership?"
"Your organization would retain control over its current operations. In exchange, you would provide manpower and assistance when requested."
"And the compensation?"
"Substantial."
Minjun smiled.
"Who would I answer to?"
Jinhyuk hesitated.
"Certain senior executives."
"Names."
"I'm afraid that information is confidential."
Minjun closed the briefcase.
Jinhyuk blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"Take it."
"But you haven't read the contract."
"I've heard enough."
Jinhyuk's smile faded.
"Mr. Kang, I don't think you understand the opportunity being presented."
Minjun stood.
The atmosphere changed.
Jinhyuk instinctively straightened.
Minjun approached the desk.
"Tell your superiors something."
Jinhyuk swallowed.
"What?"
"I don't work for people who hide behind contracts and send messengers to negotiate their authority."
He placed one hand on the briefcase.
The leather creaked.
Then the metal frame bent beneath his fingers.
Jinhyuk stared.
Minjun released it.
"If Workers wants to cooperate, someone with actual authority can come speak to me."
His smile sharpened.
"And if they intend to threaten me, tell them not to waste time sending amateurs."
Jinhyuk slowly picked up the damaged briefcase.
"I'll… deliver your message."
"Good."
Minjun returned to his chair.
"You can leave."
After the visitor departed, Seongho entered.
"Was that wise?"
Minjun looked up.
"Probably not."
Seongho laughed.
"Then why do it?"
"Because I have no intention of becoming someone else's subordinate."
He opened another report.
"And because Workers didn't send that man to offer a partnership."
Seongho frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"They sent him to measure our reaction."
Minjun turned the document around.
It contained photographs of several unfamiliar men entering Mapo over the past week.
"Workers has been watching us."
Seongho studied the photographs.
"Then what do we do?"
Minjun smiled.
"We stop waiting."
He stood and approached the window.
Below, the streets of Mapo glittered beneath the evening lights.
Three months earlier, he had arrived in this world with nothing but extraordinary abilities and memories of a previous life.
Now he had money.
Territory.
Loyal followers.
And an organization capable of growing into something formidable.
But he had been playing cautiously.
Too cautiously.
That was about to change.
"Call Taehwan and Hajun."
Seongho nodded.
"What should I tell them?"
Minjun turned.
"Tell them we're expanding."
"Where?"
Minjun smiled.
"Gangnam."
Seongho stared.
"Workers' territory?"
"Exactly."
"And if they refuse?"
Minjun's expression became cold.
"Then we'll take what we want."
Far away, inside a luxurious office, a young man listened to Jinhyuk's report.
His expression remained calm.
"So he refused?"
"Yes, sir."
"And threatened you?"
Jinhyuk hesitated.
"Not exactly."
The young man smiled.
"Interesting."
He examined a photograph of Kang Minjun.
Then placed it on his desk.
"Keep watching him."
Jinhyuk bowed.
"And if he interferes with our operations?"
The young man's smile disappeared.
"Then we'll remind him why the Four Major Crews exist."