056

JEON

"Boss" Max stepping in — leather folder in hand, sealed with wax no one dares break but me."All the details from France."

He lays it down.

Thick file.Black ink.

Numbers so high they could buy governments—Worth more than this damn underworld ever was.

I take a slow sip and going through the documents.

It's working— It's all coming together exactly how I wanted.

Another sip—scanning every line.

France.

Clean streets.

Colder air.

No ghosts screaming from streets at night.

A future built on silence and power.

Clubs running under clean names—New drugs flowing through borders.Foreign shipments slipping past with paperwork so perfect even customs kiss our boots.Locals arming themselves—but scared to look up because now—My name echoes across continents: Jeon doesn't just own Korea—they reaches further.Even the baby gangs run street-level drugs now, all with my Lucas's name on them: an empire woven around my baby boy who hasn't even speak properly.

I scan the papers—numbers, figures, plans—it's all there.

From high-stakes drug running to top-tier clubs in Paris where every politician's dirty money lives.

Good.

And then…

The last page.

Photos clipped at the back—graffiti tags spray-painted on warehouse walls: "Lucas' Boys."Street kids wearing hoodies stitched with a snake coiled around a crown—the same symbol carved into my office table where she first screamed, ill never will bear your blood!

Now they claim my son’s name like it's law already.

I trace the logo, Lucas’ name printed beside financial projections for underground fight rings named after him—

They all know—he is heir to the fire that burned cities quiet before dawn ever rose.

Outside… sun sets red over Seoul skyline, I close the file slowly.

One kingdom rising beneath Europe’s skin... Another beating inside her womb upstairs—

And me?

Stuck between empires—I sip—slow, silent.

"Boss, more new gangs are wanting in," Louis says, fingers steepled. "They’ve seen what France is becoming. They want under our banner. Stronger alliance—more control."

"But that’d be risky, Boss." Minho cuts in fast—

I frown at him.

It’s a good risk. This is a great opportunity.Gangs pledge loyalty? We expand the empire under one name—Jeon—and crush anyone who resists before they even blink rebellion.

A pause.

Then Louis nods— "It’s better to take over the underworld completely now. One king, one rule… No more street wars wasting resources."

Yeah, he's right.

This is power—not chaos.

Minho's frown deepens—

"But now, we can't afford to take risks."And he slams a thick stack of files on desk.

Silence drops like a guillotine.

Every man in the room stiffens. Wooshik stops breathing. Louis takes half-step back.

The cover reads one word— SCORPIONS—stamped in red ink, soaked through pages like old blood.

Silence snaps through the room like broken glass. Everyone freezes. Spines stiffen.

Scorpions.

The file spills open—crime scene photos: blood-smeared walls in an alley behind our club; bodies dumped like trash with letters carved into skin:

"STILL HUNTING LUCAS"

One photo shows a child's drawing nailed on our warehouse door—a stick figure with crown burning beneath red scribbles... and underneath it… my boy’s name, written backwards like a curse:   SACUL NOEJ

Another: surveillance of men in black masks distributing pamphlets near schools with fake adoption offers—all using my boy’s face photos stolen from encrypted drives…

And worst?

A leaked ultrasound image of her—circled in red marker beside:

“BLOODLINE ENDS WITH MOTHER.”

My jaw locks tight. Fingers curl around whiskey glass until it groans under pressure—

Minho sighs— "Scorpions aren't just rivals anymore, Boss…" His voice steady, eyes full of warning—"They’re targeting your blood now."

"They're not afraid..."A pause."...And if we open gates to new gangs right now—–We might let wolves straight into your son's cradle."

I stare at that ultrasound picture—her belly soft and glowing under machine light…my kid curled safe inside…

A beat passes.

No one breathe—

“Boss… we’ve been watching them three weeks now. Not just street trash with guns anymore.”  Jisun flips open a new file—photos spill: charred bodies dumped in ally near our club; one missing eyes, tongue cut out with note pinned: 'For Jeon.'

"Six of our men gone silent.""Two clubs breached—cameras dead before shots fired.""And their leader?" He slides another photo forward—a shadowed figure at rooftop gala, face blurred... but hand visible—

A ring.Silver.Serpent coiled around skull.Same one my father wore before I buried it with his corpse.

Another second passes.

Then another.

I take slow sip—liquid burns all wrong today— mind shifts gears not toward expansion—But survival.

So they want war?

Think they can use new hunger against me?

Fools don’t know—I became king because I didn’t care who died…

Even if it was me first—but never her—I set glass down.

"The scorpions are trying to rise again." Minho says—

Again…? After 13 years—wow.

Jisun frowns. "But why now?"

"Isn’t it obvious?" Minho sneers at him "They’re not rising by chance. They smell weakness."

"But I thought they were dead…" Wooshik mutters, head down.

A chorus of groans erupts.

"Aish—this idiot." Jisun pinches his nose."Woo—In this world… no one is dead until their body burns."

He ducks instantly.Smart boy— At least someone remembers how this world works.

Gangs don’t die—they hibernate. And Scorpions weren’t erased…

They were waiting—for grief, For pride, For distraction—

Max snorts. "They're like cockroaches."

Minno nods "Gangs like scorpions spread like wildfire…never go out completely."

I sip—

Scorpions.

I remember the last time their name was whispered like a curse in back alleys and burning cars.

My father crushed them—personally. Dug graves with his own hands for their leaders. Burned their temples, their shrines, even the ink off traitors’ skin.

Thirteen years ago.Thought they were dust now—blown away by time and fire.

But no.Just underground. Breeding in silence like roaches beneath concrete.

A beat.

"Boss," Minho turns to me— "The street says... people are listening. Not just thugs or kids with knives." He pauses. "Civilians. Teachers, lawyers—even cops whispering about ‘the old king’s justice.’ They're calling Scorpions ‘protectors’ now."

Minho flips open another file: graffiti tags spreading across Seoul subway tunnels — black spray paint shaped like stingers with single message:

"THE QUEEN WILL MOURN BEFORE SHE BEGINS."

And whispers on encrypted apps say Mrs. Jeon's face has been seen on underground posters with red Xs drawn over her belly…

"Also burned bodies found near hospitals yesterday," he mutters—"Doctors forced to record false death certificates… All linked back to old Scorpion medics."

My grip tightens around glass.

They’re not just targeting me.They're going for her. For the baby.Trying to make her scream before she ever learns peace...

"And boss—the street says they're influencing people,"

"Influencing?" A dry laugh escapes from wooshik "...Are they on Instagram now?"

I glance at him once—

And he vanishes behind others fast.

Minho turns sharply toward me—"Whole neighborhoods whispering she doesn't belong here... calling her 'captive mother'... saying Lucas should be raised by bloodline elders instead..."

A beat.

"Also—They're collecting people in their gangs. Spreading rumors about us..."

I sip—Fire rolls down.

"just like the streets say… they're gathering people. Spreading lies like wildfire—say we execute our own loyal men. Say we burned families alive for missing shipments." He pauses. "And worst part? People are believing it."

I open my mouth—But Wooshik cuts in fast. "What? How?"

Jisun and Minho exchange glances—

Then exhales "It’s not just fear driving them now, Boss…" Minho hesitates —"It’s... memory."

Room drops colder than winter steel.

Silence thickens.

"Their father" he says "Their lost leader."

My fingers still around the glass—Not regret.Never that.

But recognition—like a ghost stepping out from13 years of fire and smoke.

"Thirteen years ago—You killed their king with your own hands and slit Father's throat in the temple." Minho says quietly, not looking at me directly

A pause.

"He didn’t die screaming,” Jisun adds from side —“He died bowing… said ‘the next sting will be your son.’"

Whiskey burns—

"And now?" Wooshik whispers—i look up and he immediately shuts up.

I don’t move.Don’t speak.Silence press down.

"Good, They shouldn't forget how he died." I set my glass down—And I’ll never forget how he dishonored my father....Cut his body open while still breathing...

So let them remember. Let them whisper her name beside hate...Let them call me monster... But if any Scorpion breathes near her womb, if one more message appears with Lucas’ face crossed out....if a shadow moves wrong toward my blood...they will see.

I stand slowly—the coat falling straight at my sides—

I will not burn their bodies this time.I will erase their memory from this earth. No graves. Not even ash left to mourn. I'll make sure there's no one left… who remembers his name.

I light a cigarette and take a drag.Smoke burns slow behind my eyes—

"Boss, so… spreading or investing in new people right now would be risky." Jisun mumbles, tapping the file. "We’re already exposed with Mrs. Jeon like this and—"

"But business can't wait," Max cuts sharply. "France is breathing down our necks—merger deadline is this week. We need manpower. New blood."

"But um i think-" Wooshik perks slowly"How about we call the new investors and make them swear on their mothers?"

I close my eyes.

"Or on their lives! Their kids!" He mutters wildly—  "That they’ll never betray us!"

"Woo—stop being an idiot." Minho snaps—  "This is war, not some school oath under the bleachers."

School.

My eyes snap open.

I exhale.The smoke curls between my lips.

"Hostage"

Every spine stiffens around me—

"...Everyone’s family members."I flick ash into silence  "Especially the kids."

Room drops to zero— air gone thick—

I pull another drag—hold it deep inside before letting it rise out through nose and lips "Until the deals are complete…"

No breaths taken.No questions asked.

"Boss-" Jisun mutters "wouldn't it be too furious?"—

I take a drag slow—glance at him.

"This isn’t school, Jisun—It’s war."

He gulps—eyes drop slowly.Sweat beads at his temple despite the room being ice-cold.

Silence stretches—

I look around the table.One by one, they nod.

"Yes, Boss."A chorus echoes, sharp, obedient.

Good.

Outside—Seoul sprawls beneath golden sunlight. Sky blue like her foolish hope when she dared stand against me…

I lean back slowly—the leather creaking under weight of crown noone sees but feels in every bone they break for me.

Fingers curl around whiskey glass. again.Slow sip.Burn deeper this time—not just throat—but chest…heart…

Maybe fear is what keeps them loyal, Maybe losing something precious is what makes them remember who owns their breath...

Let them fear losing their kids…Let them dream of graves with small coffins…Until not one nerve dares twitch against my order.

_____________________________________

“I say we take the little brat from that new crew in Busan—skinny thing, seven maybe?" Wooshik, leaning against the wall like this is a casual lunch break "Won’t even be missed till next week. Perfect leverage.”

Louis turns his head slowly "Woo—You’re talking about a child."

“Yeah—and you're acting like we’re running an orphanage,” he scoffs “Come on! You saw how fast those Scorpion rats multiplied? We need to strike first—or we end up with our throats cut while Boss changes diapers.”

Sigh.

For past one hour,  Louis and Max try to ignore Wooshik's comments…

"And I'm telling you, man…the kid I saw yesterday… so easy to snatch up! He was walking around in the park like a lamb."

Louis cringes. "For God's sake, Wooshik—he was five years old!"

"So what?! Age doesn't matter!" He replies "Hell, they're even easier to scare, Just put the right words in their heads and they'll never breathe a word."

Another grimace. "You're sick, Wooshik."

Max grumbles "Also there's control… and then there's cruelty for fun."—"And you know boss doesn't tolerate unnecessary noise... especially when it involves kids."

"Relax—Kid won't get hurt… unless daddy misbehaves!"

"We follow orders—not make them bloody circus acts."

Louis whispers low "You want loyalty?"—"You keep your hands off children unless boss says otherwise."

A beat.

"Last time that guy who took a kid without clearance... ended up feeding fish with both hands missing."

I don’t turn.Don’t speak.Just feel their useless noise crawl my spine like ants beneath skin.

Wooshik hums, flips through a burner phone—photos of children flashing fast: school drop-offs, little hands held by nannies, playground laughter."So... which kid you think will be easy to grab first?"

"You don’t choose kids like picking lunch!" Louis hisses, voice tight with disgust.

"Hmm… maybe that one from Gangnam Elementary? Cute face. Big eyes. Dad’s a mid-level enforcer—"

—"Wooshik, Are you serious right now?"

"Eh? What? Boss said take their kids—not cuddle them."

Max pinches his nose—"You sound like some sick creep scrolling dark web forums… Not our goddamn security protocol."

"Just saying!" Wooshik shrugs—"We gotta move fast! And small target = less noise!"

Louis glares at him hard veins bulge on temple.

Max mutters coldly "Next time, just nod and shut up. Let real men handle strategy."

Idiots.

"Boss! Did you hear?!"

Wooshik bursts out, interrupting my thoughts like a damn car alarm..

I open one eye. He stands before my desk, cheeks flushed with something wild—

Louis and Max stand behind him like bodyguards, looking exhausted.

"Hear what?"

He grins. "These kids—Some are really easy to capture!"

I stare at him. Louis and Max groan.

"For God's sake Woo, stop making a grocery list of which kids look easier to kidnap! Just... keep watch—"

"But—"

"Wooshik," Max cuts him sternly, "That is not how we do business."

Louis scoffs "Yeah don't look so excited, you sicko!"

Wooshik deflates a bit, looking like a puppy "I just said that the little girl looked soft and cute, you're the one who keeps giving detailed instructions on how to do it properly!"

"Stop being a creep, you idiot!"

"And besides, We aren't kidnappers, That's a line we won't cross."

Sigh.

Kids are jus—

pause.

My Lucas! 

He about to turn two in next week.

How did I forget that—not even for a second, maybe because I was too busy in her pus—  "Wooshik!"

He scrambles forward fast- almost collides with the desk. smile bright, eyes blinking fast behind glasses.

Idiot.

"Yes, Boss?"

"Call the event manager and tell them to decorate everything before next Saturday—"

He bobs his head fast—"O-okay boss! Yes sir!"

I take a slow sip—the last burning smooth now. "Flowers, lights… whatever soft bullshit they like. Full security sweep before entry. Nothing leaks."

His eyes widen like a kid on Christmas morning—"Okay, Boss!"

He starts to leave—then hesitates at the door—"boss—What’s the occasion?"

Ah.

This nosey-ass idiot never learns.

I close my eyes.

"Oh! O-oh—I understand…" He stammers fast— "It's… your birthday!"

I glare.

His face drops— "S-Sorry boss!" He mutters, tripping over his own feet getting out—

Door shuts behind him with a soft click.

I close my eyes.

Not their fault.

No one knows my birthday—I stopped counting after Father carved into the temple wall with a knife and called it "the day death began."

I haven’t celebrated since the year he bled out in that same room, hand clutching my wrist, whispering "Rule without fear… never soften."

So I didn’t.No cakes. Just silence. Just blood and power.

But this?

This isn't about me.

It’s Lucas.My son—turning two next week.

And it'd be special—for them.

..........

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