Chapter 34 – Shadows in the Dark
Joon stood at the top of his penthouse, gazing over the city that had once belonged to everyone but now bent to his will. The air was thick with tension. The streets below whispered his name in both fear and admiration.
But something felt off.
Hyun-soo entered, tossing a black envelope onto the table.
"No sender. It was left at our front door."
Joon raised an eyebrow and picked up the envelope. Inside was a single piece of paper with an elegant, blood-red signature.
"The Black Hand is watching."
Soo-ah, who had been leaning against the wall, froze. "That's impossible. The Black Hand hasn't made a move in years."
Joon's fingers tightened around the paper. "Then they've chosen now."
The true war was only beginning.
---
A few hours later, a call came through. It was Dae-suk, the former assassin who had aligned with Kyung-tae.
"They wiped out one of my safehouses," his voice was tight with panic. "My men—gone. Just like that."
Joon exhaled, pacing. "What do they want?"
Dae-suk hesitated. "To take what you've built."
Silence.
Then Joon chuckled.
"Let them try."
---
That night, Joon's private club was full. The rich, the powerful, and the desperate all gathered under one roof, drinking, laughing, pretending the world outside didn't exist.
But Joon's eyes never left her.
A woman in a crimson dress, standing at the bar, swirling a glass of wine. She wasn't supposed to be there.
She turned, meeting his gaze. Sharp eyes. A smile that could break a kingdom.
Soo-ah whispered, "That's Hwa-young."
Joon's expression didn't change, but inside, alarms were blaring.
Hwa-young. A name buried in the shadows. A woman rumored to be the Black Hand's messenger.
She raised her glass in a silent toast before walking toward him.
The war had just become personal.
---
No More Warnings
Hwa-young sat across from Joon in his private lounge, her crimson lips curling into an amused smile.
"You've made quite a name for yourself," she murmured.
Joon leaned back. "And yet, you're still here, talking to me instead of trying to kill me."
She laughed. "Because that would be too easy."
Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken threats.
Then, she leaned forward. "You have one week, Joon."
He tilted his head. "For what?"
"To decide if you stand with the Black Hand… or if you fall beneath it."
She stood, her perfume lingering in the air like a final warning.
And just like that, she was gone.
---
The City Holds Its Breath
By morning, the message was clear.
The Black Hand had returned.
And for the first time in years, the city whispered a new question—
Would even Joon survive this war?
---