The karaoke bar wasn't the same as it had been before.
Taeyang watched the water run red, then pink, then clear. His fingers flexed under the stream, the heat from the fight still pulsing in his bones. It had been fast. Too fast. His heart rate had barely spiked.
The fight... if it could even be called that, was already over.
Daehyun stretched out in his chair, arms behind his head, looking as relaxed as ever, like he wasn't sitting in the aftermath of an execution.
"So… was that it?"
Kangjun was still sitting stiff, his untouched drink sweating against the wood. His fingers tapped against the table... once, twice, before stilling. His mind was clearly elsewhere. Replaying what he'd just seen.
"You two…" He finally spoke, voice low, still a little breathless. "You're a lot stronger than I thought you'd be."
Taeyang scoffed, shaking the water from his hands before reaching for the towel. He dried them off lazily, tossing the cloth onto the counter behind him.
Daehyun snorted. "Yeah? What'd you expect?"
Kangjun exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Not that. That wasn't a fight. That was a fucking execution."
A silence settled.
Then Kangjun straightened, something else clicking in his mind. "One of the guys tonight… I know I've seen him before. Joo Sangpil. He's the one who shattered our windows last week."
Daehyun tilted his head. "Huh. Guess you don't have to worry about that happening again."
Kangjun didn't laugh.
Taeyang's fingers tapped against the table again, mind working.
Why?
That was the question, wasn't it?
Why send Sangpil here? Why send anyone?
If it was a real attack, they would've sent more. If it was a message, they wouldn't have sent a nobody.
It was something in-between.
A test.
A probe.
They were feeling for weaknesses.
And now that they'd lost?
Kangjun shook his head. "It won't be that simple. The fact that you crushed that group so fast means they'll send someone stronger next time."
"Obviously," Daehyun said, unimpressed. "Send their big dogs out to keep their people from looking weak, right?"
"Right. You two are pretty recognizable, so…"
Taeyang finished the thought for him.
"That means either Jinhwan or Giseok is coming after us next."
A quiet settled over them.
Jinhwan.
Giseok.
Neither were names to take lightly.
Kangjun exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Not necessarily. We don't know for sure that one of the three heads is behind this."
"And if they are?" Daehyun's voice was still light, but his expression wasn't.
"If they are," Kangjun said, "then this isn't just a street fight anymore. This is Ansan."
A beat of silence.
Ansan.
A city big enough to stand on its own. A city with its own Heads, its own pre-gen. A city that could, if it wanted to, push Anyang off the map entirely.
If this turned into a real fight, it wouldn't just be a skirmish.
It would be a war.
And Anyang?
Anyang was already balancing on the edge.
Seoul was waiting for an excuse. Suwon was already a problem. If Ansan got involved, they wouldn't just be outnumbered.
They'd be crushed.
Taeyang exhaled through his nose.
"This needs to stay small," he said.
Daehyun frowned. "You're saying we just wait?"
"I'm saying we don't start a war we can't afford."
Kangjun nodded. "Exactly. If we go after them first, we become the ones escalating. We need to make it clear we're only retaliating."
Daehyun rolled his eyes. "So we just let them come at us?"
"We make it clear they are the aggressors. That they are the ones pushing this," Taeyang said. "If it stays like that, we might be able to keep it controlled. If we make the first move? That's when we lose control of Minho's plan."
Daehyun exhaled heavily but didn't argue.
Kangjun was already thinking. "If they're coming, it'll be soon. You two need to lay low."
Daehyun raised an eyebrow. "Lay low? You think anyone's gonna buy that we're hiding?"
"Not hiding. Just not giving them an easy excuse to escalate."
Taeyang tilted his head, considering. "Then we set the terms. If they come, they have to be the ones making the first move."
Kangjun nodded. "Exactly."
Daehyun sighed, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. No war with Ansan. But when they do come…"
His grin sharpened.
"We make sure they regret it."
Taeyang didn't smile, but he met Daehyun's gaze.
Agreed.
.
***
.
It was raining.
The streetlights bled gold into the puddles, flickering, bending like something alive. The sky overhead stretched endlessly, dark and starless, pressing down on him like it knew.
Like it had already decided.
Nam Giseok stood there, the phone cold in his palm, the voice on the other end distant. It crackled, warping, as if water had gotten into the speaker.
"...Hyung?"
He knew that voice.
He had always known that voice.
But tonight, it sounded different. Hollow. Like it was already fading.
His fingers curled around the phone, unsteady. His lips moved, but he wasn't sure if any sound came out.
Then, laughter. Soft, quiet, slipping through the static like a ghost's whisper.
"You're late."
Giseok blinked.
And suddenly, the docks stretched out before him.
The water was ink-black, shifting without waves. The air smelled wrong... like salt and blood, like burning metal.
And there, standing at the edge, was him.
His little brother.
Hands in his pockets. Back to the water.
Small. Too small.
A child pretending to wear a king's coat, the weight of it too much for his shoulders.
"Hyung," his brother said again, but when he turned—
His face was blurred.
Giseok's stomach twisted. His body knew something was wrong.
His little brother laughed again, tipping his head to the side. "What's with that look?"
Giseok tried to step forward but the ground stretched beneath his feet, pulling away.
No.
No, not again.
His breath hitched and then—
They appeared.
Figures slipping out of the dark like ink bleeding into water. Men with eyes like dull glass. With faces half-eaten by shadow. And at the center of them—
A man.
Watching. Deciding.
Giseok tried to move. Tried to scream.
But his body was made of stone.
Frozen. Helpless.
Just like that night.
His brother smiled at him. Like he wasn't afraid. Like he didn't know what was coming.
Or maybe… maybe he did.
Maybe he had always known.
"Hyung," he said, softer now. "You should've run."
And then…
The man raised a hand.
A sound like tearing. A flash of movement.
And his brother…
Blood.
So much blood.
The water swallowed the body whole.
Giseok reached…too late.
His hand plunged into the black, fingers searching—grasping—desperate—
Nothing.
Only cold.
Only silence.
Only the neon flickering against the waves, bleeding red, red, red.
And in its reflection...
A figure staring back at him.
Not his brother.
Not him.
Something else.
Something watching.
Something waiting.
A second pair of hands reached up, pressing against the water's surface from below.
And then—
Giseok woke up gasping.
His body jolted, fingers twitching, lungs dragging in air like he'd been drowning. His vision was blurred, his ears ringing, his skin slick with sweat. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, like he was still there, trapped in the dream, drowning in it…
No.
Not a dream. A memory.
The ceiling above him was cracked and water-stained, but it wasn't that night.
The air was stale, cold, filled with dust instead of blood. His hands weren't shaking because they were slick with someone else's life… he was alone. The office was empty. The only sound was his own ragged breathing.
He closed his eyes. His fingers curled into his shirt, gripping the fabric tight, pressing against his ribs. His heartbeat slammed against them, frantic.
I should be dead.
The thought came sudden, sharp, cutting through the haze in his skull. His nails dug into his skin.
I should be dead.
This wasn't the first time. It wouldn't be the last.
The dream always ended the same. His body. The blood. The silence.
And then he woke up, and he was still here.
Still breathing.
Still useless.
The knife sat beside him, half-embedded in the floor. His fingers twitched toward it. He could do it. Right now. End it. Make it stop.
He exhaled, a long, shaky breath. The weight of it settled deep in his bones.
But he didn't.
Because there was still one thing left to do.
His lips curled, a dry, humorless laugh slipping out. His voice came out hoarse, cracked from disuse as he looked at the notification on his phone.
A message from Sangpil.
"Daehyun and Taeyang, huh?"
He tilted his head against the wall, staring blankly ahead. His hand lifted, pressing against his temple. It ached.
That wasn't what was supposed to happen.
It was supposed to be him.
Him.
Giseok swallowed, rubbing his hands down his face.
He didn't even come.
Of course he didn't. That bastard was too careful, too calculated. He sent his dogs instead.
His fingers curled against his forehead. The pressure helped. Not much. But enough.
It wasn't enough.
The knife was still there, still within reach.
Not yet.
Not until he was dead too.
Crack.
The floor beneath him cracked, webbing out from where his fingers dug in. Small, at first… then deeper.
A crater formed under his palm, concrete giving way like sand as the veins in his fingers bulged.
A nobody like Taeyang had torn through his men. Daehyun had finally decided to show up.
If they were making moves, then it meant he would, too.
It meant he was watching.
Giseok's breath shuddered out of him. His jaw clenched. His skin felt too hot, too tight.
He hated him.
Hated him.
Hated—
His head jerked back, slamming into the wall. A sharp pain spiked through his skull. His vision blurred for a moment before snapping back into focus.
The rage settled. Not gone. Never gone.
Just waiting.
He blinked, breath still heavy, but slower now. His heartbeat steadied. He rubbed his eyes, exhaling again.
He was fine.
He wasn't fine.
He needed to move. Needed to fight.
If that man wasn't coming to him—
Then he would go to him.
And if Daehyun was in the way?
Well.
CRACK!
The concrete he was gripping onto burst, shards impaling his skin as his clenched his fist.
It wasn't like he had anything left to lose.
Not anymore.
.
.
.
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.
Not really a fighting chapter, just setting some character motivations straight and prepping a few things.
Giseok's a wacky guy.
And also, no more chapters until Monday night.
I'm sure you guys can wait.