Blood Night (2)
“Die!!!”
The snake-eyed man—No Sangmok, action captain of the Biryong Clan—charged at Sihyun with a blade-sharp killing intent rolling off him in waves. Twin daggers flashed in both hands, their edges glinting with a cold, lethal light.
“⋯⋯!”
Whoosh—! Swish—!
Sihyun tensed for an instant under the force of the rush, then dropped low and slipped the first strike with cool precision. The follow-up blade skimmed past, shearing off a few strands of his hair.
“You dodged that?”
Sangmok’s face flickered with mild surprise. He clacked the twin daggers together once, then lunged again without pause. Blade after blade forced Sihyun backward as the fight pressed on. With every swing the blue dragon tattoo coiled around Sangmok’s forearm seemed to writhe, closing in as if it meant to swallow Sihyun whole.
Swish-swish—!
Yet Sihyun moved faster still. Even inside the wrecked club he wasted no motion, letting each attack slide past him. He ducked, twisted, and used pillars or shattered tables as shields whenever the steel came too close. His timing was uncanny—always a hair’s breadth ahead of the edge, more acrobat than fighter.
What the hell is this brat!?
Sangmok’s composure began to crack. The kid looked scrawny, green as spring grass, yet he slipped away like an eel. Sangmok had planned to bury steel in the boy’s gut and savor the look on Dongchul’s face. Instead—
“Whew~ hot damn… the kid’s still quick as ever~”
Dongchul was watching the whole scrap with pure enjoyment, even while trading blows of his own. And he was not alone.
“B-Boss Sangmok’s attacks… he’s dodging every one of them?”
“Those lightning-fast strikes!?”
Sangmok’s own men began to shift and mutter. Panic edged into his strikes; the swings grew bigger, simpler, more predictable.
Sihyun did not miss the opening.
Whooooosh—!
The moment Sangmok’s right-hand dagger carved a wide arc, Sihyun ducked under it and drove a brutal kick straight into the man’s gut.
THUD—!
“Ghk—!”
The unexpected heavy impact stole Sangmok’s breath. The dagger clattered from his right hand and skittered across the floor. Clutching his midsection, he staggered, shock and fury warring across his face.
I’m… losing to this brat!?
Then Dongchul’s mocking voice floated into his ears.
“Didn’t I tell ya? Shoulda just left him alone, huh?”
Whatever reason Sangmok had left snapped clean in two.
“Shut your mouth!!!”
Eyes wild, he screamed and stabbed the remaining dagger straight at Sihyun’s heart—no defense, no thought, pure killing will. It was the worst possible choice.
Sihyun shifted half a step as if he had already seen the thrust coming, let the blade whisper past, and locked both hands around Sangmok’s wrist. A sharp twist, and the last dagger spun free.
Clatter!
“Aaaagh—!”
Sangmok shrieked as the arm bent the wrong way, but Sihyun never paused. He drove a knee up into the man’s face with bone-cracking force.
CRACK—!
“Guh…!”
A short, wet sound, and Sangmok crumpled. His face was caved in around the brow; he no longer moved at all.
“B-Boss Sangmok!?”
“No way! Boss went down to that punk!?”
The Biryong men who had been hammering the Daeho Clan moments earlier froze in open chaos. Morale plummeted; their movements turned sluggish and uncertain.
Dongchul seized the moment.
“Hell yeah! Now, boys! Smash every last one of those lizard bastards’ skulls in!”
The tide flipped in a heartbeat.
Sihyun glanced down at the fallen Sangmok, then lifted his head. The club was still a slaughterhouse. The Biryong Clan still held the numbers, but without their captain and under a ferocious Daeho counterattack they were unraveling. Leave it alone and Daeho would take the win. Helping them win had never been Sihyun’s goal—he needed information. That meant talking to the older man sooner or later.
No choice, then.
Besides, more than a few Biryong eyes were already fixed on him with naked murder.
“Take that son of a bitch first!”
“How dare he touch Boss Sangmok—RAAAGH!”
Right on cue they charged, clubs, steel pipes, and baseball bats rising in their fists. Sihyun decided hesitation was a luxury he could not afford and launched himself first.
Thud-thud-thud—!
THUMP—!
His kicks were short, clean, and lethal, every one aimed at a vital point—jaw, solar plexus, temple. Men dropped screaming the instant his foot connected. His fists were just as merciless.
Crack! Crack!
Nothing like formal taekwondo forms or board-breaking exhibitions—pure, ruthlessly efficient street fighting.
“This crazy bastard’s a monster!”
“Hiiik! We can’t win! We can’t win against him!”
Panic spread like fire. More than ten men already groaned at Sihyun’s feet.
“Hell yeah! We ain’t losin’ either! Sweep ’em up, boys!”
“Yes, Boss!”
Dongchul and the Daeho men, morale surging, piled in. In moments the fight belonged entirely to them.
A brief hush settled over the club. Daeho men stared at Sihyun in a daze while every Biryong fighter lay groaning on the floor.
“Hah… hah…”
Dongchul staggered over, breathing hard. Exhaustion and pain still lined his face, yet his eyes shone with genuine awe.
“Hell… thanks, kid. You saved our asses.”
Gratitude and awkwardness mixed in his voice. Sihyun wiped sweat from his brow and answered flatly.
“Consider it payback… for the last time.”
He meant the alley incident—when Dongchul had chosen not to finish him. Had the man pressed the attack then, the outcome would have been obvious.
“Hahaha! Kid’s got real loyalty, damn if he don’t! Ain’t that right, Shin Hyeonsik?”
Dongchul grinned at the man who had just walked up. Hyeonsik nodded hard.
“Damn right, Boss! Totally different breed from that piss-pants we kicked out last time~”
The remark made Sihyun glance around. Baek Taesu and his lackeys were nowhere in sight. Dongchul clicked his tongue, catching the look.
“Those spineless pieces of trash? We cut every last one of ’em loose.”
“⋯⋯.”
Sihyun simply nodded. Dongchul’s eyes lit with curiosity.
“So what brings you here? Don’t tell me you came lookin’ for a rematch? Haha, I’d be game, but lookin’ at the state of me and the way you’re actin’… that ain’t it, is it?”
Sihyun opened his mouth to get to the point—Yuri, the people who had targeted them, whether the Daeho Clan knew anything.
“Actually…”
He never finished.
“Boss! Big trouble!”
Hyeonsik rushed in, phone still pressed to his ear, face bone-white.
“Headquarters got hit too! The Boss is in danger!”
“What!? The Boss is what!? Those goddamn lizard bastards!”
Dongchul roared a curse that could have cracked the floor, then turned to Sihyun with a grimace of apology.
“Sorry, kid. No time for chattin’. We gotta get to HQ.”
“⋯⋯.”
Sihyun weighed his options in silence. He could force Dongchul to stay, but the odds of getting useful information would plummet. Better to watch how things unfolded. And maybe—just maybe—the same people behind the attack on Yuri were behind this raid.
“I’m coming with you.”
His voice was steady, decided.
“Huh? Hell yeah~ havin’ you along’s like bringin’ a whole damn army!”
Color flooded back into Dongchul’s face.
“All right! Let’s move!”
He gathered the remaining men and, with Sihyun at his side, left the ruined club behind and ran hard for headquarters.
At that same moment, inside the Daeho Clan’s headquarters office.
Cha Mujin stood alone in a room that reeked of blood. At his feet sprawled Jo Pildu, boss of the Daeho Clan, bleeding out. Several other men lay motionless around them.
“Cough…! Mujin… you… how could you… to me…”
Pildu forced the words out, eyes burning with betrayal, voice shaking from pain and shock. Mujin looked down at him without a flicker of emotion and casually brushed an invisible speck from the immaculate sleeve of his black silk suit.
“Brother Pildu, is this not simply the way of our world?”
“Cough—! Even if we’re nothing but gangsters… we still have loyalty! You can’t do this, Mujin!”
Pildu coughed blood and screamed. Mujin only gave a soft, contemptuous laugh.
“That pure-hearted nonsense is exactly why a simple ploy like this worked on you, Brother. Loyalty? Romance? Outdated sentimentalism, nothing more.”
“If Brother Dongchul had simply handled matters properly… or if you had punished him as you should have… I would never have been forced into this choice.”
“I… trusted you…”
“Heh. For that, I am mildly apologetic. Farewell, then.”
As Mujin turned to leave, Pildu summoned the last of his strength.
“You son of a bitch! Dongchul and the Daeho Clan… won’t… let you… live—Guh—!”
Thuk—!
Without looking back, Mujin drove the hidden dagger straight into Pildu’s heart. The body jerked once, then went slack.
“Do not concern yourself.”
Mujin wiped the bloodied blade with a handkerchief, voice ice-cold.
“Your loyal little brothers will be joining you shortly.”
He stepped over the cooling corpses as if they were furniture and opened the office door. Black-suited men waited silently in the corridor.
“We withdraw.”
At his quiet order they bowed and fell into step behind him, vanishing into the darkness like shadows. Only the cooling bodies and the thick, coppery stench of blood remained inside the Daeho Clan office.