The set-up

The mansion loomed against the quiet countryside, its towering wooden structure casting long shadows under the moonlit sky. Everything about it felt ancient, yet unnervingly alive—as if the walls themselves were watching them.

Osamu and Ji-hoon walked toward the gate, where a group of rough-looking gangsters stood guard. Their eyes followed the two like silent predators, yet none of them spoke.

One of the men, a tall brute with a scar down his cheek, made eye contact with Osamu for a brief moment. Then, without saying a word, he stepped aside, motioning them inside.

Osamu stopped. His gut twisted in warning.

"This feels like a trap," he muttered low enough for only Ji-hoon to hear.

Ji-hoon smirked, adjusting his glasses. "You say that about everything."

"Because I'm usually right."

Ji-hoon patted Osamu's shoulder. "Relax. They're just showing us countryside hospitality."

Osamu clenched his jaw but walked in anyway. Ji-hoon followed, his hands casually in his pockets as if they weren't stepping into potential death.

A single gangster appeared to guide them deeper inside. The mansion's hallways were quiet, lined with flickering lanterns that barely lit the path. The air smelled of burning incense, but underneath it was something else—something metallic.

Osamu's grip on his pocket tightened, but before he could react, they were led into a large traditional room.

The moment they stepped inside—

BAM!

The door slammed shut behind them.

Osamu didn't even need to turn around. He already knew.

They were trapped.

The room was filled with gangsters. They had been seated when Osamu and Ji-hoon entered, but now, all of them stood.

The biggest one stepped forward, cracking his knuckles, his smirk dripping with arrogance. He didn't even see them as a threat.

Bad move.

Osamu moved first.

His fist shot out, a clean uppercut straight into the guy's chin.

The man's feet lifted off the ground. His head snapped back, and before anyone could react, he collapsed instantly, unconscious.

For a brief second, the entire room froze.

Then, all at once—

The gangsters charged.

Osamu clenched his fists, preparing for impact—

But then, something changed.

Ji-hoon took a step forward.

There was something wrong about the way he moved.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a baton.

The moment he gripped it—

The air in the room shifted.

A gangster lunged at Ji-hoon.

Ji-hoon swung once.

It was a simple motion—one step forward, one clean arc of the baton.

But when it connected—

A massive explosion of air blasted through the room.

The gangster was launched backward, smashing into the wooden wall behind him. But what terrified everyone wasn't the impact.

It was the wall itself.

A deep, massive cut—almost six feet wide—split the entire structure.

The gangsters staggered back. Their eyes weren't on Ji-hoon anymore.

They were on the gaping wound in the wall.

Osamu felt his skin prickle.

That... That wasn't caused by a human.

Ji-hoon, meanwhile, simply twirled the baton in his fingers. His expression was unreadable, as if this was normal.

"Huh," he mused, staring at the wall. "I wasn't even aiming for that."

Silence.

Then—

Chaos.

The gangsters rushed in, ignoring their fear.

Osamu jumped into action, his movements sharp and precise.

One man lunged at him—Osamu side-stepped and drove his elbow into his ribs. Another swung a crowbar—Osamu grabbed a chair and smashed it across his face.

But Ji-hoon?

Ji-hoon didn't dodge.

He walked forward.

A gangster swung at him—Ji-hoon casually deflected it with the baton.

Then, in one swift motion—

He swung again.

The entire floor beneath them cracked.

A deep, clean scar ripped through the wooden surface, stretching from one end of the room to the other.

The gangsters froze mid-step.

One of them whispered, "That… that's not possible."

Ji-hoon tilted his head. "Why not?"

Osamu had seen many fighters. He had fought alongside Goto. He had survived against monsters.

But right now, he realized something.

Ji-hoon…

Ji-hoon was something else entirely.

The gangsters began backing away. Even they understood—this was not a fight they could win.

Ji-hoon took a breath, then looked at the already broken wall.

"I wonder..."

He took one step forward.

Then, gripping his baton—

He swung it one last time.

The moment it connected with the wall—

The entire mansion shook.

A massive scar split through the wood, stone, and foundation—and with one final creak, the entire side of the building collapsed.

Osamu didn't hesitate.

"MOVE!"

He grabbed Ji-hoon and dragged him through the opening, their feet barely touching the ground before the ceiling caved in behind them.

They stumbled into the hallway, the moonlight spilling through the newly made hole.

Osamu finally let go of Ji-hoon and turned to face him, his expression unreadable.

Ji-hoon smirked. "So. How was that?"

Osamu exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't even know what the hell you are anymore."

Ji-hoon chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "I get that a lot."

Osamu sighed.