THE STREET KING

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1. A Ghost from the Past

Jinwoo stared at the photograph, his hands gripping the edges so tightly it nearly tore.

His brother was alive.

For ten years, Jinwoo had lived with the guilt of failing Joon-ho. He had watched him bleed out in that dark alley, swearing revenge against those who took him.

But now… the truth was different.

Hye-jin sat across from him, her expression unreadable. "We need to confirm it."

Jinwoo's jaw tightened. "It's real."

Ji-hoon, still recovering from his wounds, looked up from his cot. "If Joon-ho survived, why would he be working with Kyung-min?"

Silence.

Jinwoo didn't have an answer.

But one thing was clear—if his brother was standing beside his worst enemy, then the past was far more complicated than he ever imagined.

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2. Digging for Answers

Jinwoo needed information, and there was only one place to get it.

Seoul's underworld had a saying:

If you want secrets, visit The Butcher.

The Butcher—real name Baek Sung-min—was an information broker who thrived on the misery of criminals. His hideout was a grimy meat shop in Itaewon, where he did business behind a bloodstained counter.

Jinwoo and Hye-jin pulled up outside. The neon sign flickered overhead, casting an eerie red glow over the sidewalk.

Inside, the air smelled of raw meat and iron.

Baek Sung-min grinned from behind the counter, slicing through a slab of beef with almost too much enthusiasm.

"Jinwoo," he greeted. "I heard about the mess you made at the warehouse. Kyung-min must be pissed."

Jinwoo didn't waste time. He pulled out the photograph and slid it across the counter.

"Tell me everything about this."

Baek Sung-min's smile faltered.

His fingers twitched as he picked up the photo, his eyes darting between Jinwoo and Hye-jin.

"You sure you want to know?"

Jinwoo's patience snapped. He grabbed the butcher's knife from the counter and slammed it into the wooden table, inches from Baek Sung-min's hand.

The butcher let out a nervous chuckle. "Alright, alright."

He exhaled and leaned in.

"Joon-ho never died."

Jinwoo's heart stopped.

Baek continued, his voice lower now. "The night you thought he bled out, someone picked him up. Someone powerful. They kept him hidden, trained him, and turned him into something else."

Jinwoo's fingers curled into fists. "Who?"

Baek's voice dropped to a whisper.

"The Phantom Syndicate."

Hye-jin stiffened. "That's a myth."

Baek shook his head. "No. They exist. And Joon-ho is one of them now."

Jinwoo took a slow breath.

The Phantom Syndicate—a secret faction that operated from the shadows, controlling the underground like puppeteers.

If they had his brother, then this war was about to become something far more dangerous.

Jinwoo pushed away from the counter. "Where is he?"

Baek hesitated. "You don't want to—"

Jinwoo grabbed him by the collar. "Where. Is. He?"

Baek swallowed.

"Cheongdam-dong. A private club. That's where he operates from now."

Jinwoo released him.

Hye-jin looked at him. "Are we going there?"

Jinwoo's expression was cold.

"We're burning it to the ground."

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3. The Club of Shadows

Cheongdam-dong was a place for the rich and untouchable.

The private club, Red Lotus, was a fortress hidden beneath a luxury hotel. Only the most powerful criminals and politicians were allowed inside.

Jinwoo and Hye-jin arrived on a stormy night, dressed in sleek black suits. No weapons visible, but ready for war.

At the entrance, a guard stopped them. "Members only."

Jinwoo smiled. "I have an invitation."

Before the guard could react, Jinwoo crushed his windpipe with a single strike.

The man dropped, gasping.

Hye-jin sighed. "So much for subtlety."

Jinwoo stepped over the body. "We don't have time for subtlety."

Inside, the club was filled with powerful men drinking expensive whiskey, laughing over corrupt deals.

None of them mattered.

Jinwoo's eyes locked on the VIP section at the back.

Where Joon-ho would be waiting.

He started walking.

The second he stepped past security—

a voice stopped him.

"Jinwoo."

He turned.

And there he was.

Joon-ho.

Alive.

Dressed in a tailored black suit, a scar running down his left cheek. His eyes, once warm, were now cold and calculating.

Joon-ho took a sip from his drink. "Took you long enough to find me."

Jinwoo's breath was slow, controlled. "Why?"

Joon-ho smirked. "You really want to have this conversation here?"

Jinwoo stepped closer. "I watched you die."

Joon-ho set his drink down. "No. You watched what they wanted you to see."

Silence.

Then, Joon-ho's voice dropped lower.

"Come with me. I'll tell you everything."

Jinwoo hesitated.

Was this a trap?

Hye-jin's hand twitched toward her gun.

Joon-ho raised an eyebrow. "You think I'd kill my own brother?"

Jinwoo's voice was ice. "I don't know who you are anymore."

Joon-ho sighed, shaking his head. "Then let me remind you."

And with that, he turned and walked toward a back room.

Jinwoo followed.

Not knowing if this would be the last mistake he ever made.

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End of Chapter 31