The alliance hall exhaled a chill and silence, dense and viscous, like a fog that clung to every corridor of the old mansion. The ceiling, soaring high above the long table, was adorned with ornate crystal chandeliers, each reflecting the dim light onto the faces below, as if illuminating every wrinkle, every hidden emotion. The dark wood of the table gleamed like a calm stretch of water, casting long shadows across the walls, within which one could discern both power and threat, poised to strike at any moment.
The air was thick with a mixture of scents-aged whiskey, fine tobacco, leather, and sweat. Every inhalation reminded one of power, of risk, and of the unspoken law that here, only strength and cunning dictated the rules. In the corners of the hall stood large vases filled with dry leaves and sparse flowers, yet even they could not soften the cold atmosphere. Every element of the interior-from antique rugs to the massive dark-upholstered chairs-was meticulously designed to underscore the gravity of the gathering. There was no room here for weakness or doubt.
At the head of the long table sat Kim Yeon-chul, the chairman of the alliance. Nearly eighty years old, yet his movements were as assured as those of an ancient lizard, one that knows every corner of its territory. His eyes, cold and piercing, scrutinized everyone in the room. His face was etched with a web of wrinkles, but his gaze betrayed neither weakness nor fatigue-only unshakable authority. When Yeon-chul slightly raised an eyebrow and cast a sidelong glance, it seemed as if the entire room froze for a moment, heads bowing instinctively.
Along both sides of the table were the bosses of the eight largest factions within the alliance. Among them was Lee Min-sok - a tall, muscular man slightly over thirty, with broad shoulders and a solid build. The tattoos covering his shoulders, arms, and neck caught the chandelier light, while the scar over his left eye lent his gaze a dangerous, predatory edge. Despite being younger than most of the other faction leaders, Min-sok had earned a reputation as a daring and enterprising youth, capable of crushing anyone who dared stand in his way.
Seated beside him was Jeong Tae-hyun, his deputy. A giant standing 195 cm tall, his muscles pressing against the thin fabric of his shirt, which seemed on the verge of tearing. His gaze was cold and unflinching, missing nothing, and every movement hinted at a readiness to obliterate anyone who dared threaten his boss.
Pak Jae-ho slowly raised his hand, as if ensuring that all eyes were fixed on him. His voice was low, smooth, yet carried an edge of confidence capable of piercing any wall of doubt:
"Chairman Kim, today I would like to discuss the development of our faction. I have information that, I believe, can increase our contribution to the alliance and ensure the stability of our territory."
The old man tilted his head slightly, his eyes flashing through the dim light:
"I'm listening. But, Pak Jae-ho, promises are one thing; evidence is quite another."
Pak Jae-ho smirked, his plump face barely concealing a sense of self-satisfaction. He nodded to his secretary, who quietly handed a neatly prepared folder to the chairman. Yeon-chul took it, opened it, and began flipping through the pages, his eyes scanning the contents quickly, then narrowing ever so slightly:
"A new product sample? I've heard rumors… I never thought it would end up in your hands. Your resourcefulness is commendable. The numbers and charts look convincing," - he said finally. - "But who can guarantee these aren't just empty words?"
The fat man didn't flinch; his lips stretched into a brazen smile:
"Do you doubt me? Or my people?"
"Not at all," - the old man replied calmly, taking a sip of his aged whiskey. - "Just the realities of the modern world."
A tense silence hung in the hall for a moment. The other alliance members began to murmur discontentedly, casting occasional glances at Pak Jae-ho. Lee Min-sok leaned forward slightly, his cold sarcasm barely concealed:
"Pardon me, Mr. Pak Jae‑ho, but I find it appropriate to ask… How did your faction obtain that experimental sample, one none of us possess and which nobody has seen? I've heard it was… stolen from an Italian drug lord, who has since been sent back to his homeland in a lead coffin. The question is: won't this cause problems with the other factions? Or are you simply relying on a show of force to cement your position?"
Pak Jae-ho gave a slight smile, his lips curling into a cold smirk, but his eyes blazed with icy fire:
"Lee Min-sok, I assume that, like everyone here, you understand this: power is a language everyone comprehends. The sample is in our hands - it is control. Control over the territory, over the market, over the numbers that dictate the fate of every faction in the alliance. You understand that, don't you?"
Old Kim Yeon-chol cast a subtle glance but did not intervene, allowing the tension to swell.
Lee Min-sok drew a deep breath, slowly unclenching his fists beneath the table. His gaze swept over Pak Jae-ho's bulky frame, as if measuring how closely his words aligned with reality.
"Control? Or provocation?" - His voice cut like an ice blade, each word slicing through the air. - "A threat to others, hidden behind a mask of authority? Speak plainly - what is it you seek: alliance, or chaos?"
Pak Jae-ho tilted his head ever so slightly, a smile slowly spreading across his face like snake venom:
"Let's put it this way, my dear colleague—we play on fields where every step decides a fate. Sometimes, to strengthen one's position, you have to step over… hmm… others' inconveniences."
Lee Min-sok clenched his jaw, yet a thin edge of challenge crept into his voice:
"Aren't you afraid those 'inconveniences' might turn against you? The entire alliance is a web of interdependencies. One wrong move - and you risk turning to ash beneath the weight of your own ambitions."
"Ash?" - Pak snorted. - "It smells far sweeter than success if you know how to ignite it properly."
"Or perhaps you simply want to spark a war between factions, then rule alone over the ruins?" Lee Min-sok smiled, coldly and provocatively, as if testing the endurance of the bulky man before him.
Pak snorted, leaning slightly toward the audacious youngster; his gaze turned heavy, testing.
"Don't project your ambitions onto my actions, esteemed junior. I'm merely a humble businessman, driven by the rustle of banknotes. Every move I make is calculated and serves the alliance."
Min-sok tilted his head a fraction; the smile never left his face, but a flash of menace crossed his eyes:"For the good of the alliance, you say? I hope you won't forget to share your spoils with your colleagues when the time comes. The alliance forgives no mistakes. And it forgives no arrogance."
Pak Jae-ho leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping the table, marking a rhythm that Lee Min-sok felt like a breach in his own defenses."The alliance survives only because of strong players," - he said in a low voice. - "The weak fall away; the strong survive. If you intend to rival me, you still have much to learn and much to do. For now, your faction's merits are negligible."
"I'm not seeking war, nor do I plan to compete... at least not now," - Min-sok replied coolly. - "But if someone lights the fuse first, be sure I won't stand aside."
Silence stretched for several moments. Jeong Tae-hyeon clenched his fists under the table, every nerve taut like a steel string. He was ready to spring into action to protect Boss Lee at any second, yet he remained a silent sentinel, awaiting his leader's command. Every glance, every pause, was thick with tension, as if the very room itself was holding its breath, anticipating who would break first.
"Very well." - Pak Jae-ho finally spoke, leaning back lazily in his chair. - "Let words remain words, and deeds remain deeds. Soon, everything will fall into place."
Min-sok nodded almost imperceptibly: cold, restrained, as if accepting the challenge, yet a hidden resolve flickered in his eyes:"We'll see. As you rightly said, sunbae, only the strongest survive."
The old man, Kim Yeon-chul, who had been silently observing the exchange, finally leaned forward with fatigue:"Well, if the kindergarten group has finished its little verbal sparring, I suggest we eat something delicious. I'm feeling rather hungry. How about a steak?"
The room erupted into lively chatter as the members debated what to eat, and for a moment the hall filled with the scent of aged whiskey and fine tobacco.
"Jae‑ho," - the old man said leisurely, rising from his seat, - "I expect results soon. Don't let me down."
One by one the other alliance members followed him out. Lee Min‑sok and Jeong Tae‑hyun were among the last to leave, leaving only Pak Jae‑ho and his secretary, So Min‑je, at the table.
"Heh…" - the fat man muttered with malicious glee, drumming his fingers on the wood as if Lee Min‑sok's face were carved into it. - "I expected a bit more awe. What's wrong with that old man? Am I the only one who cares about the alliance's welfare? And that brat Min‑sok… damn him! How dare he mouth off at me? I was running things when he was still in his father's loins! Little runt. Let him try to cross me - his next trip will be underground."
"Forgive me, Director. This is my fault," - So Min‑je said humbly, bowing slightly and adjusting his glasses. - "I should have prepared more thoroughly. But allow me to point out: everyone's opinion will change once our sample hits the market. They'll all bow before your cleverness, and I'm sure the Chairman will promptly offer you a more prominent position."
He hesitated a moment, then added cautiously:
"But I have doubts about the other alliance members. It seems they don't like that our faction grabbed this sample. Could that become a problem? Internal strife could badly affect the market right now."
Pak Jae‑ho smirked ominously, slowly rising from his chair with the leather creaking beneath him.
"Don't worry… If push comes to shove, I have my magnificent weapon. Let her off the leash - and no one in the alliance will remember their discontent. Idiots… They don't even realize I've got them all by the balls… Oh, that feeling of power…" - He turned to his secretary with a self‑satisfied grin. - "Let's go eat. I'm a bit hungry too… heh heh…"
Lee Min‑sok, who had overheard part of the remark as he left, snorted under his breath, keeping his face neutral:
"Hm… Turns out it pays to linger when a loose string gets pulled. 'Magnificent weapon'? Is he fucking with a warhead or what? Disgusting bastard… I should find out what he meant. The more you know, the easier you sleep."
He walked away from the hall doors, cold and composed, each step echoing the quiet determination and readiness for the coming game - a game whose stakes would be higher than anyone could imagine.