Eight years ago, a government lab went up in flames — a blazing inferno caused by a boy who refused to die. That boy was Kim Seungmin, the only survivor of a secret experiment meant to weaponize psychic abilities. He escaped with power he can’t control: visions that snap his head upward, eyes flooding white, and force that can destroy without touching.

He was taken in by San and Wooyoung, the infamous dual leaders of the Black Syndicate — a mafia known for discipline, ruthlessness, and silence. Under them stands their deadliest weapon: Hwang Hyunjin. Cold. Stern. A ghost with a heartbeat. When Hyunjin speaks, even gunmetal listens.

Their core members — Ryujin, Bambam, Jihyun, and Sunoo — follow with the same sharp-edged maturity.

Together, they built a family. A dangerous one. A loyal one.

But their enemies have been studying Seungmin for years… and tonight, as the Syndicate prepares to raid a rival base, the enemies reveal their trump card — a frequency siren built specifically to weaken him. And when it blares through the night, Seungmin collapses, screaming, as Hyunjin reaches him first with a fear he refuses to show.

⸻

The night was cold enough to bite, but Hyunjin stood still, shoulders relaxed, expression unreadable. Only his eyes moved — sharp, trained, lethal — as San finished briefing the mission.

“No mistakes,” San said, voice low but forceful. “We go in, we end them, we leave.”

Wooyoung’s gaze swept the group. “And stay close to Seungmin. If they’ve learned anything about him, they’ll use it.”

Hyunjin didn’t respond. He rarely did. He just adjusted the gloves on his hands, jaw tight, as if preparing to strangle the night itself.

Seungmin stood a few steps behind him, hood up, quiet, fingers subtly trembling — not with fear, but with energy he didn’t understand. Hyunjin could sense it. He always could.

They moved as one toward the abandoned warehouse, shadows cutting through shadows.

Inside, the silence was wrong.

Too still. Too… prepared.

Ryujin mouthed, Trap. Bambam tightened his grip on his gun. Hyunjin lifted his chin slightly — the closest he ever got to speaking before necessary.

Then Seungmin froze.

His head snapped upward, neck jerking unnaturally. His eyes rolled white.

“Vision,” Jihyun whispered.

But this one was violent. Seungmin’s breath hitched, then he gasped—

“They’re—”

The rest cut off as an earsplitting, metallic wail erupted from the ceiling.

The siren.

San shouted, “MOVE! It’s for him—!”

But Seungmin didn’t move. He collapsed, hands flying to his ears as the sound drilled into his skull. His body curled in on itself as a scream ripped from him, raw and terrified.

Hyunjin didn’t hesitate.

He sprinted.

Not a word, not a sound — just pure, lethal urgency carved across his face.

He dropped to his knees beside Seungmin, grabbing his shoulders as the boy writhed, the floor vibrating beneath them from the power leaking out of him uncontrollably.

Hyunjin hissed through his teeth — the closest thing he ever had to panic. “Seungmin.” His voice was low, harsh, slicing through the noise like a blade. “Look at me.”

But Seungmin couldn’t. His eyes were still white, tears spilling from the corners as he screamed again, body shaking violently. Hyunjin tightened his grip and pulled him against his chest, shielding his ears with his own palms.

Ryujin shot at the speakers. Bambam cursed and helped. Jihyun slammed into a control panel. Sunoo ripped wires from a wall. And it stopped.