Morning arrived with a dull light, reluctant to pierce through the grey mist cloaking the city. Inside the dojo's main hall, the air remained still. Jung Kok sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, staring at the folded paper in his hands. The note was unchanged, but its meaning had deepened.
"It's not your brother you should fear…"
That whisper had haunted his thoughts since last night. He knew — this wasn't just a warning. It was a trap, and he had already stepped into it.
In another corner of the dojo, Min was rearranging the training weapons back into their rack. His movements looked routine, but his eyes flicked toward Jung Kok with silent calculation. He approached slowly.
"You didn't sleep all night?" he asked.
Jung Kok merely nodded. "Too much on my mind."
"Like what?"
Jung Kok didn't answer immediately. He clenched the note, then spoke quietly, "I think… there's something bigger than what we know. Maybe even beyond Jung Joon."
Min wore a sympathetic look. "You think you have another enemy?"
Jung Kok glanced at him briefly. "I'm not sure who wants to see me fall, but they're not new. They know how to make me lose focus."
Min suppressed a faint smile. In his mind, he knew the time to act was drawing near. Last night, he had broken into Jung Kok's room and copied the contents of the note. Not to help — but to know how much information had leaked.
Elsewhere in the city, inside a lavish but unfinished room, Rina stood before a large mirror. She adjusted a gold necklace around her neck while waiting for someone.
Jung Joon entered, irritation plain on his face. "Why did you call me here? You know I'm busy."
Rina only smiled. "I think we need to adjust the plan. You're too emotional with your brother. We need a more... subtle approach."
"Subtle?" Jung Joon narrowed his eyes. "You want to control everything now?"
"Not control. But can't you see? The more we attack, the stronger he becomes. Your brother's not a child."
Jung Joon slammed a file onto the table. "Don't forget, I'm the one who brought you into this."
"And now I'm the one keeping this game from falling apart," Rina snapped back.
Their argument was cut short when a man with thick glasses entered, handing Rina a new file. Inside — photos of Min. Rina smiled with satisfaction.
"It's time we get closer to the one he trusts most."
Hwang sat alone in a dim room lit only by a single hanging lamp. In front of him, an elderly bearded man sat cross-legged, sipping tea slowly.
"He's still alive, isn't he?" the old man finally asked.
Hwang paused. "I hope not… but there are too many coincidences lately."
"If he truly returns, it won't just be your sons in danger. Our world will collapse."
Hwang nodded. "That's why I came to you. We need to be ready."
The old man reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper marked with a strange symbol drawn in charcoal.
"If you see this again… it means the game has begun."
At the same time, a man dressed in all black was found lying at the entrance of Hwang's weapon storage facility. His eyes were wide open, his mouth trembling but voiceless. Trauma. Fear. Only one thing was left behind — a strange symbol carved into the concrete floor with a knife.
Jung Kok examined the symbol, frowning. That symbol… he had seen something like it — in old files he had accidentally come across as a child, in his father's secret room. The symbol belonged to a group said to have vanished years ago.
"This group… they weren't supposed to exist anymore…" he murmured.
That night, Min snuck into the dojo's file room while everyone slept. He reopened the copied note and began searching through the old document racks. His hand froze when he found a file bearing the same symbol — stamped in red and marked: Top Secret Classification.
"So this is the root… who have I really been following all this time?" he whispered to himself.
Unbeknownst to him, someone was watching from outside — sharp eyes filled with hidden intent.
In a hidden location, the same man in black sat before a wooden table. In his hands — an old, worn black book. His fingers flipped through page after handwritten page.
One name was written on the final page that night:
Min.