Without giving him a single word of response, I ended the call. The silence that followed was louder than his voice. I headed straight to our secret hideout in Cheongdam-dong. As I stepped inside, I peeled off my blood-stained clothes; they reeked of a sickening cocktail of dust, sweat, and the metallic, rust-like scent of dried blood.
I took a scalding hot shower, letting the water wash away the filth of the day. When I stepped out, I reached for a new Qipao. It was the same defiant shade of crimson, with the golden dragon embroidery snaking across the chest. I pinned my hair up with Hela-style chopsticks, a crown for a queen of shadows. I slid my dagger into one sleeve and my pistol into the other. Every inch of my gear bore the mark of the dragon.
The Golden Dragon is back for vengeance, you Gangnam scum.
I marched toward the hideout of Jun-ho and Typhoon. Their graves were already dug; they just didn't know it yet. With one powerful kick, I slammed the heavy door open. The air inside was thick—a hazy mix of stale cigarettes and cheap alcohol. Drunken laughter and loud, chaotic music filled the room, but it died the second I stepped into the frame.
"JUN-HO! TYPHON!" I roared, my voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "Let's settle our accounts once and for all."
I stepped back out into the open courtyard. I wasn't about to let myself be cornered in a cramped room; a dragon needs space to breathe fire. Jun-ho and Typhon emerged side by side, followed by a sea of gang members—men I considered nothing more than pawns on a chessboard.
"Typhon," I said, my voice dropping to a cold, lethal whisper. "You know better than anyone that you owe a debt. Anyone who betrays Tian Long and the Golden Dragon doesn't deserve to share the same sky with us. The price for your debt is your life."
In a flash—faster than the human eye could track—I whipped out my pistol. BANG. A single bullet tore through his skull. He collapsed to his knees, his life escaping in a ragged, final breath before he hit the dirt.
"As for you, Jun-ho," I said, turning my gaze to the other traitor. "To be fair, I'll offer you a wager. It's me against your entire gang. If I die, Gangnam becomes a kingdom for the Koreans, and not a single Chinese soul will remain. Deal?" I let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "I'm making a deal with you, even though I know your word is as worthless as the dirt under my boots."
Jun-ho sneered, his face twisting in rage. "You half-breed brat... learn some respect for your elders. But fine, I accept."
The gang members formed a tight, suffocating circle around me. I leaned my body forward, the bones in my neck cracking with a satisfying pop. I drew a hidden pistol from my boot and the other from my sleeve. In one fluid, cinematic motion, I spun like a whirlwind. BANG. BANG. BANG. I aimed for the foreheads. One by one, they fell. Their blood began to pool, staining the ground beneath my heels. Other gangs emerged from the shadows, drawn by the thunder of gunfire, standing as silent witnesses to the massacre.
I stood amidst the bodies, my breathing steady. "Gangnam belongs to Tian Long... forever," I announced to the shivering crowd. I spat toward Jun-ho's feet, a final gesture of pure contempt, and walked away without looking back.
I dialed Detective Ming's number. My breath was steady, but my eyes were fixed on a single drop of blood still clinging to my knuckles.
"S? Where are you? The whole city is in chaos!" Ming's voice crackled through the phone, thick with worry.
I let out a low, chilling hum. "Ming... the masks are off, and the game is over. Meet me tonight where we first met."
I paused, a dark smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "And Ming? Bring your handcuffs. Let's see who ends up wearing them this time."
Click.
I ended the call before he could utter another word, leaving the silence to echo between us like a death sentence.