Chapter 4: Red Fang Territory

The sky over Buncheon was always gray—even when the sun was out. The buildings in the lower districts leaned like they were tired of standing. Garbage littered the alleys, and gang tags marked the boundaries of territories like war banners. Every street was a battlefield, and the one Ryujin had stepped into now was the most dangerous yet.

Red Fang Territory.

Once just a petty gang running minor rackets, the Red Fang had grown into a small empire after the fall of the Rising Wind Dojo. They controlled extortion rings, illegal fight clubs, and half the police in this part of the city. Their leader was a man named Do Taegon, a brute known more for breaking bones than words. No one challenged him and lived to brag about it.

But Ryujin wasn't here to brag. He was here to end them.

Laying the Groundwork

For the past week, Ryujin and Mirae had watched from the shadows—gathering intel, observing guard rotations, noting patterns in gang patrols. Mirae used his reputation as the Lightning Ghost to slip through checkpoints and steal schedules from Red Fang strongholds. Ryujin mapped out every weakness, every crack in the gang's armor.

They learned that Do Taegon operated from a nightclub front called The Fang Den, located deep in Red Fang territory. Hidden behind its booming speakers and smoke-filled dance floors were underground arenas, illegal weapons caches, and torture rooms for "interrogation."

Mirae leaned over a rooftop railing, glancing at the red-lit building below. "Taking this place head-on is suicide. They've got over thirty enforcers on standby, not counting Taegon himself."

Ryujin adjusted the wraps on his fists. "That's why we don't go in loud. We go in smart."

Mirae glanced at him. "You're really going to do this?"

Ryujin looked at the glowing light blue flickering faintly around his fingers. "The city's full of wolves. But no one's ever taught them fear."

The Infiltration

Night fell over Buncheon like a shroud. Ryujin moved like a shadow between shadows. Mirae disabled the back alarm while Ryujin slipped through an access panel on the roof. Inside, music thumped through the building like a second heartbeat, masking the sound of his steps.

The upper floors of the club were full of civilians, but downstairs—beneath the concrete—was the true lair of the Red Fang. Armed guards stood in front of reinforced doors, but Ryujin didn't hesitate. He didn't fight to win. He fought to move forward.

He ducked under the first guard's strike, countering with a light-blue-infused backhand (Speed Mastery) so fast it was almost invisible. The guard collapsed before he hit the ground. Ryujin twisted the next one into a chokehold and silenced him without a word. He didn't kill. Not yet. He wanted them to remember who came through their gates.

Down the hall, Mirae moved just as swiftly. He triggered fake alarms to pull guards away from key positions. The two of them, mismatched in style but united in purpose, were dismantling a criminal empire from the inside out.

Confronting the Beast

They reached the underground arena. Inside, dozens of Red Fang thugs circled a fighting pit. At its center stood Do Taegon—shirtless, covered in scars, his body built like a warhammer. He was in the middle of finishing a match, slamming an opponent's head into the floor while the crowd roared.

Mirae whispered, "That's him. Taegon. They say he can bench press a motorcycle."

Ryujin stared. "Let's see what he can do when someone hits back."

He stepped into the arena. The music died. The crowd turned. Taegon looked up, his massive fists still dripping with blood.

Taegon: "You got a death wish?"

Ryujin: "No. Just a name to erase."

The Red Fang members charged from the stands, but Ryujin was faster. Light blue lines (Speed Mastery) followed every strike as he blitzed through them—one, two, five, ten. He moved like wind and struck like lightning. They couldn't keep up.

One of the enforcers tried to grab him. Ryujin ducked, pivoted, and slammed the thug into the mat using a modified judo throw, his technique glowing faint pink as his Technique Mastery began to stir.

Mirae took care of the rest, darting through the chaos, disabling electrical systems, locking down exits, and ensuring no reinforcements would come.

Now, it was just Ryujin and Taegon.

The Battle of Will

Taegon stepped into the pit. "You think glowing fists make you a king? I've buried men who hit harder than you."

Ryujin didn't speak.

Taegon charged, swinging with the force of a truck. Ryujin evaded the first few blows, but even with Speed Mastery, Taegon's raw power was overwhelming. A punch clipped Ryujin's ribs, sending him skidding.

Pain bloomed through his torso, and then—light green light flickered over his body. Endurance Mastery awakened, dulling the pain and keeping him standing.

Ryujin smiled slightly.

He was unlocking another piece.

Taegon noticed it too. "What the hell are you?"

Ryujin exhaled. "Someone who doesn't stop."

The fight continued. Ryujin began mixing his mastery: Speed to dodge, Technique to trap limbs, Endurance to push through pain. Taegon slowed, fatigue taking its toll, his rage turning to desperation.

And then, Ryujin ended it.

A final flurry of strikes—light blue and pink intertwined—flowed like a dance of death. Ryujin ducked low, launched upward, and struck Taegon's chin with a spinning elbow.

The sound echoed.

The Red Fang boss collapsed.

The arena went dead silent.

No More Kings Without Crowns

Mirae looked around. "They're all watching you now. You realize that, right?"

Ryujin stood over Taegon, breathing steady. "Good. Let them."

From that night forward, the Red Fang's territory began to shift. Half their ranks deserted, the other half followed Ryujin out of fear or respect. He didn't claim himself as king—but people started whispering it anyway.

"The man with light in his fists."

"The one who made Taegon kneel."

"The Ghost of Rising Wind has… Returned."

End Of Chapter 4