Haneul City felt different.
The alleys were no longer just alleys, they were pressure cookers. Every corner store had its shutters halfway down, every street vendor eyed customers like suspects, and every gangster in a black jacket kept his hand a little too close to his waistband.
Whispers traveled faster than bullets:
The Gapyeong Tigers weren't fighting rivals anymore. They were fighting each other.
No one had seen the three heads, Du-ho, Chan-il, or Ryeon-woo in days. And that silence was louder than sirens.
THE PENTHOUSE: THE TIGERS' DEN
The penthouse in upper Haneul was not elegant, just expensive. Every surface had bottles, clothes, old takeout boxes, and glitter dust from last night's party. Somewhere on the couch, a videogame character walked endlessly against a wall because no one had touched the controller for hours.
Kim Ryeon-woo lay asleep on that couch, mouth open, an empty soda can resting on his chest. The TV flashed colors across his face.
The elevator dinged.
Lee Chan-il stepped out.
He looked like a man who hadn't slept in days, his eyes slightly red, jaw locked tight. His shirt was neat, but the tension in his shoulders ruined any attempt at composure.
He scanned the room slowly.
Disgust.
Judgment.
Worry.
Then he walked straight toward the master bedroom.
He knocked once, didn't wait for an answer, and entered.
Inside, Gang Du-ho slept sprawled across his bed, two women curled beside him as if pulled there by gravity. Sunlight crept through the curtains, catching the faint tattoos on his chest. Even asleep, Du-ho looked like someone you'd never want to wake.
Chan-il did it anyway.
He shook him by the shoulder.
"Du-ho. Wake up."
The leader groaned, annoyed, rolling over.
"Chan-il… it's too early."
"It's noon," Chan-il replied sharply. That tone, strained, uncharacteristic, cut through the fog in Du-ho's mind.
He sat up, instantly more alert.
The women blinked awake in confusion until Du-ho told them, with a lazy flick of his fingers,
"Get out. Now."
Minutes later, the penthouse was empty except for the three heads of the Gapyeong Tigers.
Ryeon-woo sat up on the couch, rubbing his eyes.
"What's with the morning drama…?"
Chan-il didn't sit. He stood in front of them like he was reporting to a commander rather than partners.
"I don't understand what's happening anymore," he said. His voice trembled with frustration. "The gang is falling apart. I've been stopping fights every night. Crews are shooting at each other. This isn't about revenge or territory disputes, this is internal."
Du-ho stretched, yawning.
"This again? Rival gangs try their luck sometimes. Why are you so dramatic?"
Ryeon-woo chuckled. "Yeah, Chan-il. You always pull us out of trouble. Relax, we trust your genius."
But Chan-il only looked tired.
And afraid.
"You don't get it," he said, quieter. "This isn't outside pressure. The Gapyeong Tigers are killing each other. Our men. Our own people."
Silence.
Then...
Du-ho laughed.
Not joyfully. Not carelessly.
It was the type of laugh that felt wrong, like sharp nails dragged across glass. It reminded Chan-il of watching a parent smile after hearing terrible news, something forced, eerie, disconnected.
When he finished laughing, Du-ho leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"You should've said that earlier," he said softly.
Too softly.
"But now that I know," he continued, smiling wide, "we'll fix it. We always fix it. No need to panic like a schoolgirl." He waved a dismissive hand. "Arrange a meeting with the whole gang. Tonight."
The command wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
Both Chan-il and Ryeon-woo felt the shift in his tone, the way the room suddenly seemed colder.
Du-ho wasn't joking anymore.
SKYFALL LOUNGE: THE TRIO'S GAMBLE
Across town, inside the dimly lit Lounge, Tae-min paced in circles. On a table lay maps, receipts, burner phones, and scribbled notes, an organized chaos only he understood.
Soo-jin watched him anxiously.
Sang-ho smoked in silence, the only sound the faint burn of the cigarette.
"We're losing control," Tae-min muttered. "The Red Crescent Brigade moved faster than expected. If they take more districts, there won't be a gang left to manipulate."
Soo-jin crossed his arms.
"And your plan is to team up with the Tigers? The same people we've been tearing apart?"
"It's the only way to push out the Red Crescent Brigade," Tae-min insisted. "We frame everything, the internal attacks, the chaos, on them. We make the Tigers believe they've been infiltrated. If they see us as allies..."
"They won't," Soo-jin cut in. "And even if they do, it won't last."
Tae-min opened his mouth to argue,
but Sang-ho spoke first.
His voice was calm, firm, and heavier than usual.
"Tae-min."
Tae-min turned.
"For the first time," Sang-ho said slowly, "you're wrong."
It stunned both Tae-min and Soo-jin.
Sang-ho rarely disagreed with Tae-min. And never like this.
"You're new to this world," Sang-ho continued. "You understand strategy. You understand people. But gangsters… gangsters are different."
He took a drag, the smoke rolling out in a thin stream.
"There are four types," he said. "The dogs, who follow orders without thinking. The men, who plan and survive with logic. The wolves, who act on instinct, wild and dangerous."
Soo-jin leaned forward.
"And the fourth?"
Sang-ho crushed the cigarette into the ashtray.
"The monsters," he said quietly.
"Freaks of nature. They don't follow rules, codes, or authority. You can't predict them. You can't negotiate with them. You can't even scare them."
Tae-min swallowed hard.
"And which one is Du-ho?"
Sang-ho didn't hesitate.
"He's a wildcard, somewhere between a wolf and a monster. You can't trust him. Not ever."
Tae-min clenched his jaw. "We don't have another way."
"Then follow your plan." Sang-ho stood up. "Just don't expect it to work."
Soo-jin rubbed his temples.
"So we're framing everything on the Red Crescent Brigade? You think the Tigers will believe it?"
"They believe what Du-ho tells them to believe," Tae-min said. "And right now, everyone is grasping for an explanation. We just have to give them one."
Sang-ho shrugged but didn't argue further.
"If this goes wrong, Tae-min… it won't be the Brigade you'll need to fear."
Tae-min knew exactly what he meant.
Monsters.