The rain never stopped in Busan. It didn't matter if it was winter or summer, spring or fall. It was the city's rhythm, its heartbeat, relentless and cold. Tonight, it hammered against the cracked windows of Dogsung High, washing the faded blood from yesterday's fight, but never cleansing the city's scars.
Eli Nam stood just beyond the rusted iron gates of the school. Behind him, the hallowed halls were silent — empty classrooms, shattered lockers, and graffiti that told stories of power lost and fear gained. The storm outside blurred the neon cityscape beyond, but inside, everything felt frozen — a moment caught between the end of an era and the birth of chaos.
His breath fogged in the chill air. His black bomber jacket clung wetly to his frame, but Eli didn't care. He didn't feel cold anymore.
Behind him, the remnants of the Pit Dogs lay broken and scattered. Rowon Yu's defeat wasn't just a fight; it was a seismic shift that shattered the school's fragile order. The king was dead, and the crown lay in the mud. Scar Chain retreated into shadows, licking wounds and sharpening claws. The halls that once buzzed with the snarls and bravado of gangs now held only whispers.
But Eli had never wanted to be king of the school.
The school was a cage — and he had just torn the bars apart.
Inside Dogsung High, the ghosts of yesterday still lingered.
Teachers shuffled nervously through empty corridors, their eyes darting at every shadow. Some muttered about closing the school, unable to stomach the violence that had erupted within their walls. The students—those who hadn't fled—lingered in doorways and stairwells, eyes wide with a mix of awe and fear. The legend of Eli Nam was no longer a rumor; it was a pulse felt in every heartbeat.
Near the vending machines, a group of freshmen whispered."Did you see the fight? He took down Kang Doohwan like he was nothing.""Rowon lost? No way. He was untouchable.""Eli Nam's not just a fighter. He's a storm."
Down the hall, an older boy with sharp eyes and a scar slicing his cheek watched the school from a cracked window. Jaeyoon Seo — leader of Scar Chain — smiled coldly. The war for Dogsung wasn't over; it had just gone underground.
Outside, the streets breathed a different kind of life.
In the cramped alleys near the docks, shop owners locked their doors tighter, wary of the crews that prowled the night. The Drift, a brutal street gang with fists like hammers and teeth like wolves, moved through the shadows, whispering Eli's name with a mix of dread and fascination.
One old man folded his newspaper, his hands shaking."They say the kid fought twenty-five men alone... and lived."
Across the street, a group of teenagers traded stories in hushed tones."The devil's out of the school now. The city's his next cage."
Eli took a step forward, the gate creaking open slowly before him.
It was a sound that felt like a heartbeat, or a death knell.
With every step onto the rain-slicked pavement, the weight of Dogsung faded, replaced by the biting reality of Busan's streets — wild, hungry, and unforgiving.
His mind drifted back to the day he first stepped into Dogsung High.
A boy without a past, without a name, swallowed by shadows. No friends, no allies — just a cold stare and a promise to survive. The hallways back then had been full of noise, of threats and challenges.
Now? Those halls were empty. The silence was louder than any roar.
The city lights flickered above, reflecting in puddles stained with grease and broken dreams. Eli's eyes scanned the horizon — the neon glow of clubs, the distant rumble of cargo cranes, the hum of life that never truly stopped.
Somewhere beyond the rain and streetlamps, real predators waited. Gangs with codes, brands, and blood-soaked oaths. The Drift at the docks, Scar Chain creeping from the north, and whispers of others—gilded ghosts moving unseen.
Eli's jaw tightened.
This wasn't a beginning. It was an awakening.
His footsteps echoed through the alley as he walked away from the last gate.
A whisper followed him. A promise.
The hunt is on.