The fire had died out. But the ashes still smoldered.
It was dawn when Jae-hyun's convoy finally reached the hidden safehouse nestled deep in the forested outskirts of Inje County. A stone fortress carved into the mountain, once used during the old wars, now served as the only place he trusted in moments like this—when everything burned, and survival meant secrecy.
Ha-eun hadn't spoken much since they escaped. Her hands were stained with smoke and dried blood. Her white coat was gone, replaced with a thermal jacket that smelled faintly like Jae-hyun's cologne. She looked out the window of the armored car as the sun pierced the mist. Her eyes weren't on the mountains—they were lost in something deeper. Something haunted.
Jae-hyun hadn't said a word either. But his hand had never left hers.
Inside the safehouse, Jae-hyun gave swift orders, his voice sharp and final. Guards were doubled, medical teams were summoned, and the entire perimeter was scanned by thermal drones. No one would catch them off guard again.
Only when everything was secure did he turn to Ha-eun.
"You need to rest," he said, his voice low.
"I need to understand," she whispered. "What happened last night… wasn't just a hit."
He sighed and sat across from her at the long, oak table in the main hall. "You're right. It wasn't."
Ha-eun leaned forward. "Tell me the truth, Jae-hyun. No more half-stories. I want to know everything. About the Black Mask faction. About why they attacked me. About you."
He looked at her for a long time. Then he poured two glasses of soju, slid one to her, and took a deep breath.
"My father was the original boss of the Choi syndicate," he began. "He built it on blood, business, and betrayal. But he kept one promise—never deal with the Black Mask faction. They were different. Ruthless even by mafia standards. They don't just kill for territory. They kill for pleasure."
Ha-eun's fingers tightened on the glass.
"Years ago," Jae-hyun continued, "my brother Jin joined them behind our backs. He believed in their ideology—power at any cost. When I found out, I confronted him. We fought. He left. He promised to destroy everything my father built. And now... he's back."
Ha-eun blinked. "Your brother? The leader of the faction that just tried to kill us?"
He nodded once. "And he's not just after me anymore. He saw your face. You saved me in that hospital. He knows you matter."
A wave of cold swept through her. "You think he'll come again?"
"He won't stop," Jae-hyun said. "Not until one of us is dead."
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Ha-eun looked down at the jagged scar on his arm—the one she stitched a few weeks ago. She remembered the way he looked at her, desperate and furious, refusing to die.
"You never told me about your brother," she said.
"I was trying to protect you from my past."
"You should've known I'd find my way into it eventually."
He gave a tired smile. "You always were stubborn."
Suddenly, an explosion of shouting erupted outside the hall.
Jae-hyun jumped up, gun already in hand. Ha-eun followed without hesitation, her heart in her throat.
The guards were dragging in a man, tied and bloodied, his lips curled in a snarl.
Jae-hyun narrowed his eyes. "Who is he?"
"He was watching from the ridge," one guard said. "Says he has a message."
The man lifted his head and spat blood. "Jin sends his regards. He wants a duel. One-on-one. No men. No tricks. Midnight. At the old rail yard in Chuncheon."
Ha-eun grabbed Jae-hyun's arm. "Don't go. It's a trap."
"Of course it is," Jae-hyun said calmly. "But I'm going."
She stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "You just told me this man wants to kill you!"
"If I don't face him, he'll keep attacking the people I care about." His gaze softened. "You."
He turned to the guards. "Lock this bastard in the cellar. If Jin wants a war, he'll get it. But on my terms."
As the man was dragged away, Ha-eun stepped into Jae-hyun's path.
"You're going to fight your own brother alone?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm going with you."
"No."
"You don't get to decide that anymore," she snapped. "You let me into your world. You don't get to push me out when it gets too dark."
There was silence. His jaw clenched. Then, to her surprise, he nodded.
"But you stay back. You don't move unless I say."
She swallowed hard. "Deal."
The rail yard was a graveyard of steel and rust.
Midnight fog blanketed the tracks, and the moon hung low like a glowing witness. Jae-hyun stood in the center of the yard, dressed in black, a blade sheathed at his waist and a gun holstered at his back. Ha-eun stood at the edge, hidden in the shadows of a rusted boxcar, heart pounding.
Jin emerged like a ghost—taller than Jae-hyun, leaner, with wild hair and mad eyes. He wore a long coat and carried twin knives at his hips.
"Baby brother," Jin grinned. "Still playing hero?"
"You shouldn't have come back," Jae-hyun said.
"You shouldn't have betrayed me," Jin growled.
Without another word, the duel began.
It was brutal. Raw. A blur of metal and fists. Jin fought like a man possessed—fast and unpredictable. But Jae-hyun was sharper, calmer. The two clashed like thunder in the fog, blood hitting the ground like rain.
Ha-eun watched in horror, unable to move. Every time Jae-hyun fell, she almost screamed. Every time he rose, she cried inside.
Finally, with a final lunge, Jae-hyun drove his blade into Jin's chest.
Jin gasped, blood bubbling from his lips. "You think… this ends here?"
"I know it does," Jae-hyun whispered.
Jin collapsed, his body hitting the gravel with a heavy thud.
It was over.
Ha-eun ran to him, falling to her knees. "You're bleeding—"
"I'm fine," he panted. "It's done. It's finally done."
She pressed her hands to his wounds. "You idiot. You could've died."
He looked up at her and smiled weakly. "I couldn't. Not before I told you…"
Her breath caught. "Told me what?"
"I love you, Ha-eun."
Time stopped.
Tears filled her eyes as she leaned in and kissed him, hard and trembling and desperate.
"I love you too, you dangerous, stupid, beautiful man."
They held each other there, between the ruins and blood, two broken souls clinging to something real.
And for the first time in a long time, the night didn't burn—it healed.
To Be Continued...