Everyone else had left the training house, but Ha-Eun was still standing in the room.
"Where are you guys going?" she asked.
"It's time to battle," Chan-Sik said, voice low but firm.
"Yeah. This isn't a game anymore," Sung-Woo added, his eyes on the floor but his tone serious.
"It isn't a game? I may not know technology, but I literally just saw you guys play," she shot back.
"It isn't like that," Min said, stepping slightly forward.
"Then what is it?"
"It's war," MC ORCA chimed in.
"War…? Are you guys delusional?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
"Are you delusional? Where have you been these last few years, when the internet shut down?" Chan-Sik countered.
"That… is none of your business!" she yelled.
"Forget it. You don't understand. But this is important to us," Sung-Woo said.
"A computer game is this important?" she pressed, incredulous.
Before she could continue, Min cut her off.
"Just come with us and see. You'll understand. There's a reason they chose tonight for the showdown."
"Why?"
"It's the anniversary of his brother's death," Hye-Jin finally said, voice quiet but firm.
Silence settled in the room.
"Was it because of this game?" Ha-Eun asked softly, breaking the quiet.
Everyone nodded.
"I see," she said, her voice low, thoughtful.
Chan-Sik headed toward the door, signaling the team. Everyone except Min and Ha-Eun followed.
"Do you want to come?" Min asked.
"I don't like this one bit… but yes, I'll come," she said, hesitating for a moment.
They all squeezed into Chan-Sik's car and drove off.
The streets of Mapo felt different at night. Neon glimmered off wet asphalt, but Min barely noticed. He was surrounded by his team: Chan-Sik driving with intent, MC ORCA tapping fingers to the rhythm of his own thoughts, Hye-Jin flipping through notes Min had prepared, and Sung-Woo reviewing Red Pulse tendencies. Ha-Eun sat quietly beside him, her light blue hair catching the fleeting streetlight.
The air in the car vibrated with anticipation. Each member carried a mixture of adrenaline, strategy, and unspoken tension.
"Keep your heads in the game," Chan-Sik said. "Nothing else matters tonight."
Min didn't respond. He didn't need to. His hands rested lightly on his knees, flexing unconsciously, like each keystroke of muscle memory could calm his mind. Ha-Eun's presence was steadying, calm, observant, and unintrusive. He appreciated it more than he expected.
The warehouse loomed ahead. Bigger than he remembered, its doors wide, pulsating with colored lights that reflected the bass-heavy music vibrating the ground. Silhouettes of Red Pulse and other crews moved inside, their forms shadows against the glow.
At the entrance, Min noticed a familiar figure: Soo-Yeon.
Her gaze flicked first to Ha-Eun and lingered a moment too long. A twitch of eyebrows, a subtle flare of irritation. Min felt it, a ripple of tension, almost physical.
"Not tonight," Donghae whispered, stepping slightly in front of Min. "She doesn't need to deal with you anymore."
Soo-Yeon's eyes darted from Donghae to Min to Ha-Eun. She opened her mouth, but no words came. Min inhaled sharply. The moment was fleeting, yet potent. He realized how far he'd come since the warehouse fight, since betrayal. He wasn't distracted. He wasn't angry. He wasn't concerned.
The music shifted. Low beats surged into high-energy electronic rhythms. The warehouse doors parted. Lights flashed. Strobes cut across the floor. The scent of electricity and sweat hung heavy.
Hye-Jin tightened her straps. Sung-Woo adjusted his gloves. MC ORCA cracked his knuckles. "Let's get to work."
Chan-Sik's hand landed briefly on Min's shoulder. "Remember," he said quietly, "you're not just playing for yourself. You're playing for Mapo. You're playing for him."
Min's jaw set. He glanced at Ha-Eun. She gave a small nod, almost imperceptible.
Then he stepped forward.
The Warlocks followed.
Inside, the crowd roared. Red Pulse members turned their attention toward them. Every eye, every whisper, every flash of light reminded Min: this wasn't just a game, this was dominance.
Min felt the rhythm settle in him, adrenaline syncing with the pounding music, syncing with his heartbeat. The nerves were there, yes, but refined. Focused. Sharpened.
MC ORCA, the de-facto MC of the area, stepped to the center and raised his microphone. "THE FIRST MATCH, EVERYONE. DONGHAE vs MIN!"
The crowd erupted. Music still blaring. The Warlocks took their positions opposite Min.
He smiled.