The night sky cloaked the city in deep darkness, as though it too was hiding secrets growing heavier with time. Beneath the thickening tension between the two brothers — Jung Kok and Jung Joon — a shadow was slowly taking form. But no one had recognized it yet. Not yet.
Jung Kok sat in his underground office, surrounded by confidential files he had taken from his father's personal archive. His face was stern, his eyes sharp. He no longer trusted anyone — not even his own blood.
"We lost another convoy last night," said one of his trusted men, Yong Jin. "And each time, only Jung Joon knew the route."
Jung Kok clenched his jaw. "Too many coincidences. I don't believe in coincidences."
Yong Jin bowed slightly. "What are your orders?"
"We continue the operation. But this time, feed false information to everyone — except one channel. If it leaks again, we'll know who the mole is."
At a hidden location on the outskirts of the city, Jung Joon was strategizing with Choi Dae-gun. The warehouse walls were lined with maps, blueprints, and photos of key figures in the Han organization.
"Your brother is getting more aggressive," said Dae-gun as he watched the CCTV screens mounted across strategic points. "Are you sure he doesn't know about our deal?"
"So far, no," Jung Joon replied. "But he's not a fool. He'll start to suspect soon."
"What's your next move?"
"We need solid evidence to bring him down. I don't want to trigger a civil war without showing who the real enemy is."
Dae-gun scoffed lightly. "The real enemy isn't him, or you. It's someone else — someone who's been playing us all."
Jung Joon narrowed his eyes at Dae-gun. "What do you mean?"
"My gut feeling," Dae-gun replied. "There's someone whose movements are too quiet… too precise."
Someone sat alone in a small room, watching from afar the chaos he had crafted with his own hands. His satellite phone lit up with new encrypted messages. Offshore accounts had been confirmed, and several secret weapon caches had successfully been "transferred" under his name without raising suspicion.
"Someone's going to die soon," he muttered, "and I won't even have to lift a finger."
He stared at the whiteboard now covered with markings, threads, and photographs. Jung Kok and Jung Joon were at the center. But one thick red line ran from both of them to a single name at the bottom.
That name was written in bold red ink: **.
During an emergency meeting with the area leaders, Jung Kok delivered a clear warning.
"Anyone who betrays us — I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth."
Lee Sang-hoon remained silent, but behind the scenes, he sent a short message to someone: "He's starting to suspect."
Someone replied: "Keep playing your role. Phase three is about to begin."
Jung Joon, in his mission to supposedly "save the organization" from Jung Kok's iron grip, began planning an attack on one of his brother's main warehouses. But the intel — once again — reached enemy hands first.
"Perfect," Someone muttered as he reviewed the location in the files. "Let them destroy each other."
That night, a loud explosion shook the port district. The Han clan's weapons warehouse went up in flames — and Jung Kok arrived only to see his brother's shadow disappearing into the distance.
"JUNG JOON!!!" he roared, a mixture of rage and heartbreak erupting from his chest.
The conflict was no longer about power. It had become a matter of shattered trust. And the real enemy? He was merely waiting.
In the dark, he smiled.
"Let them keep fighting. This legacy... will be mine."
(To be continued...)