The flashing streetlights reflected off the windows of the police car as it sped through the night. The sirens had been turned off, leaving only the hum of the engine and the crackling voices from the radio to fill the silence. Joon-hyuk sat in the back seat, his hands cuffed in front of him, staring blankly out the window.
His mind was empty. He felt no fear, no anxiety. Just an overwhelming exhaustion.
"This kid... he's still a teenager?" one of the officers in the front whispered to his partner.
"You saw it yourself, didn't you? Everyone in that building was knocked out, some even had broken bones. This kid isn't normal."
Joon-hyuk heard everything, but he didn't care. They didn't know what really happened, and he had no intention of explaining. It didn't matter if he was punished—as long as those who preyed on the weak had been taken down.
It didn't take long before the police car pulled up in front of a large building with high fences—a juvenile detention center.
"Kang Joon-hyuk, get out," one of the officers ordered.
Joon-hyuk stepped out without resistance. When his cuffs were removed and replaced with a juvenile inmate's uniform, he remained silent. No protests, no signs of fear. Even the guards escorting him sensed something unusual about him—it was as if he was already used to harsh environments.
He was led through long hallways until they finally arrived at his cell—a small room with bunk beds, a toilet in the corner, and walls covered in graffiti. A fellow inmate, a 16-year-old boy with scars on his face, looked down at him from the top bunk.
"New guy?"
Joon-hyuk didn't answer. He simply climbed onto the bottom bunk and lay down, his head still heavy.
"What's your name?" the inmate asked again.
Joon-hyuk exhaled. "Kang Joon-hyuk."
The boy fell silent for a moment before chuckling. "You're the one who took down that cult, huh?"
Joon-hyuk neither confirmed nor denied it.
The inmate smirked. "Be careful in here. Not everyone will sit back and watch a newbie like you."
Joon-hyuk simply closed his eyes, ignoring the subtle threat.
His first night behind bars had begun.
The night sky beyond the prison bars was bleak, starless, hopeless. The noisy chatter of the inmates gradually faded as time passed.
Joon-hyuk sat on his narrow bed, silent, staring at the worn-out wall with a blank expression. His body still felt sore from the long journey from the interrogation room to his cell.
He knew this would happen.
He knew that sooner or later... he would fall asleep.
And once that happened—
Twitch.
A sharp pulse stabbed through his head. Joon-hyuk let out a quiet groan, his body trembling slightly. His eyes flickered, his golden pupils slowly dimming.
Darkness swallowed his consciousness.
Then, silence.
—Until a pair of pitch-black eyes opened.
Joon-hyuk's dark side had awakened.
A slow smirk curved on his lips as he sat up. He lifted his hands, inspecting himself.
"Hah..." He let out a low chuckle. "Finally, some fresh air."
Rolling his shoulders, he stretched his neck, letting his joints crack slightly. How long had he been locked away? Since the fight at the cult? Since that angel had wept in despair?
Joon-hyuk's dark side laughed softly.
He stepped toward the bars, surveying his surroundings.
This prison was full of insects.
Weak.
Pathetic.
Trash that thought they ruled this place.
But before he could enjoy the view for much longer, a deep voice from the next cell called out to him.
"Heh... new guy. I heard you're the one who wiped out that whole cult."
Joon-hyuk turned.
A large, muscular man with a tattoo on his neck sneered at him.
"Don't think you can act tough in here, kid," the man continued. "In prison, brats like you learn to submit to those who are stronger."
A few other inmates chimed in with mocking laughter.
Joon-hyuk's dark side said nothing.
He simply smiled faintly, stepping closer to the bars.
"Do I look like a kid you can just push around?" he asked, his voice calm—almost dangerously quiet.
The man laughed. "I know your type. Acting tough, thinking you're special. But once you're in here, you'll learn that this place belongs to people like me—"
BANG!
Without warning, Joon-hyuk slammed his head against the bars, startling the man.
His pitch-black eyes glowed in the darkness.
"Say that again," he whispered, his grin widening.
The man froze for a moment, not expecting such a reaction.
"What? Are you scared now?" Joon-hyuk smirked wider. "Don't worry… I enjoy playing with people like you."
He reached through the bars, grabbing the man's collar before yanking him forward.
A loud thud echoed as the man's face slammed into the iron bars.
"UGH!"
The other inmates went silent, stunned.
Joon-hyuk's dark side pressed his face against the bars, staring directly at the man, who now looked at him with a mix of rage and fear.
"No one pushes me around," he whispered. "Not outside. Not in here."
He let go, allowing the man to stumble back, his nose bleeding.
A small chuckle escaped his lips as he returned to his bed, sitting down casually as if nothing had happened.
"I'm going to enjoy this place…" he murmured, closing his eyes in satisfaction.
Outside the cell, a few inmates who had witnessed the scene swallowed nervously.
They had just met the devil inside a cage.
.....
As morning approached, Joon-hyuk slowly opened his eyes. However, the reflection in the cell's glass was not the usual warm, gentle gaze. Instead, what stared back was a pair of pitch-black eyes—empty, yet filled with madness.
A faint smirk played on his lips. Normally, by morning, he would fade away, and his other self would regain control. But today was different.
He was still here.
By now, the good Joon-hyuk should have awakened. But there was nothing—no resistance, no struggle for control.
"Hah... so you've decided to sleep a little longer?" he muttered, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Have you finally given up?"
A low chuckle escaped him as he sat on the edge of his cold prison cot. No more shackling his hands before sleep. No more fear of what he might do at night. Because now, there was only him.
The other inmates in the cell stole nervous glances at him, their fear evident. They remembered all too well what had happened last night—how the burly, tattooed man had been broken so easily, how Joon-hyuk's dark laughter still lingered in the air.
Joon-hyuk flicked his gaze toward them and let out an exasperated sigh. "Why are you looking at me like that? I don't bite... unless you piss me off."
One of the inmates swallowed hard and quickly averted his gaze. No one dared to respond.
A sudden order from a prison guard snapped them out of their trance, instructing them to begin their morning work assignments.
Throughout the morning, Joon-hyuk moved through the tasks assigned to him with minimal effort. His mind was elsewhere. He had no interest in the meaningless routine of prison life. He was already plotting his next move.
Escape? Perhaps. Or maybe something far more entertaining.
During lunch in the cafeteria, a large inmate with a tattoo on his neck approached Joon-hyuk. His presence alone made the surrounding prisoners fall silent.
"Hey, sect golden boy. You think you can survive in here without submitting to someone?"
Joon-hyuk barely acknowledged him, lazily taking a bite of his food.
The man sneered. "Silent, huh? Maybe I should teach you a—"
CRACK!
Before he could finish, Joon-hyuk's hand shot forward—swift, precise, merciless. He grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it sharply. A sickening crunch echoed through the cafeteria.
"ARGHH!" The man collapsed, clutching his broken wrist, his screams piercing the air.
Joon-hyuk gazed down at him, his expression unreadable. "I don't like being interrupted." His voice was eerily calm, devoid of sympathy. "Next time, I'll take your whole arm."
The cafeteria fell into a deathly silence. Inmates began whispering his name like it carried a curse—Kang Joon-hyuk.
Meanwhile, in the warden's office, a prison guard rushed in. "Sir, there's been an incident in the cafeteria. An inmate's arm was broken. The perpetrator is—"
"Another fight? Why are you bringing this to me?" the warden interrupted, unimpressed. "Fights happen all the time."
The guard hesitated before handing over a file. "It's him, sir. Kang Joon-hyuk."
The warden's eyes darkened as he scanned the document.
"...Interesting."
Leaning back in his chair, a smirk tugged at his lips. "Bring him to me. Let's see what kind of monster we're dealing with."
Back in his cell, Joon-hyuk lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The whispers of the inmates didn't matter. The fear in their eyes, though? That was intoxicating.
A knock at the cell door pulled him from his thoughts. A prison guard stood outside.
"Joon-hyuk. The warden wants to see you."
Joon-hyuk's smirk widened. "Oh? Finally, something interesting."
He got up, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders. The air felt different today—charged with excitement.
"Alright, lead the way," he said, following the guard without hesitation.
This prison was becoming dull.
Perhaps it was time to shake things up.
He would enjoy every second of his reign in this hell.