As if the stakes could get any higher—now I must square off with my archnemesis, knowing my rabbit’s life hangs in the balance.
The hanok emerges from the darkness like a ghost from the past, its traditional and humble silhouette hardly visible through the sheets of rain pouring from the black sky. Lightning splits the clouds, and for one blinding moment I see itclearly—the house where I was born, but also where the innocent boy I once was died.
The same place where my entire family did.
Despite owning the property, I’ve returned only a handful of times through the years for this reason.
Standing on the cliff’s edge behind the small home, illuminated by another flash of lightning, is none other than Black Shell.
He’s dressed in the same military-like uniform as the last time we faced off, wearing a long black coat and pants with boots. Only this time he’s unmasked.
I recognize him even at a distance, pulling up and bathing the area with the brightness from my headlights.
It’s Noh Myeong-su. The same man who worked at Monroe’s school.
His sparse hair looks thin against his scalp, the lines on his face denoting his older age.
I’ve only met him once—or at least thought I had—but the polite kindness he’d displayed at the school is no more.
Now he looks resolute and formidable as he stands in the heavy downpour and awaits my arrival. Beside him sits a wardrobe. I recognize it as the one from inside the hanok; the very same wardrobe I’d hidden in as a boy.
But it’s not just big enough to hold a child; it could easily hold adults too. It could holdMonroe.
As I park and get out the car, the wardrobe teeters on the edge of the cliff. The raging sea churns several feet below, waves violently crashing against the jagged rocks and matching the fury of tonight’s storm.
I waste no time pausing to consider my next move.
There’s no time for such luxuries when Black Shell has Monroe and her life is on the line.
I’m sprinting over on impulse alone, heading straight toward the cliff. The distance feels infinite,every second it takes me to reach them stretching into an eternity as thunder cracks overhead and the rain lashes at my face like tiny knives.
Black Shell simply watches me approach, so calm and patient it’s a marked sign he views me not as an equal but as inferior. As if I’m his pupil and he’s about to teach me a lesson.
He thinks he’s already won.
As I close in on him and the wardrobe, he remains still, without flinching or budging an inch. One of his boots rests against the wardrobe like he has all the time in the world.
I skid to a stop ten feet away, chest heaving and gaze locked on the wardrobe.
…on Monroe trapped inside.
Hold on, Tokki-ya. Just… please hold on…
“You came,” Black Shell says against a clap of thunder. His voice rivals the sound despite being cold and measured. Satisfied. “I wasn’t sure you would. Not alone, at least.”
“Let her go,” I growl. “She’s innocent in this. She has nothing to do with your vendetta. Let us solve that on our own.”
He tilts his head as if to consider the suggestion. “Why would I do that, Jin-tae? Finally, after all these years, I’m finishing what I started. Jung-hoon’s bloodline ends tonight.”
“I’m not my father.” I take a step closer and his boot presses harder against the wardrobe, making it rock on the cliff’s edge. I freeze, not daring to move. Instead I focus on our conversation. “I’m a different man than him.”
“Are you?” He laughs, the action cold and hollow, soon swallowed by the howling wind. “You’re as ruthless as he was. As cunning. You have just as much blood on your hands—more, probably. You are Baekho-je, are you not? You rule over that gang with no regard to the devastation you leave in yourwake. You’re fine harming people as a means to an end just like he did.”
“My father never?—”
“You’re exactly the man your father was, Seo Jin-tae!” he booms, suddenly losing his sense of calm. His arms spread wide as he gestures to our dreary, isolated landscape. “Which means you deserve exactly what he got.”
“Then come for me,” I challenge boldly. “I’ll pay for his sins if that’s what it takes. But my wife and child have nothing to do with this?—”
