You had never known peace. Since you could walk, life had been chaos—a brutal cycle of survival. Born into a forgotten corner of the world, you had no family, no home, and no voice. Mute since the age of five, you learned early that silence was your weapon. By ten, you escaped a trafficking ring, using nothing but a stolen knife and the instinct to live. By twelve, you were a whispered legend in the criminal underworld—"The Ghost of the Alleys." At fifteen, you mastered combat, blending techniques picked up from street fights and underground rings. By eighteen, despite your small frame—barely 158 cm—you dominated anyone who underestimated you.

When you heard of the mafia led by Bang Chan, you felt intrigue. They were infamous, untouchable, and for the first time, you thought of more than survival. You wanted purpose. That’s what brought you to their doorstep. The towering gates of their hideout loomed, but you didn’t hesitate. Inside, the interview room was dark, suffocating. Bang Chan, the leader in his Sharp, Black suit, sat at the center, exuding control, with Hyunjin, Minho, Changbin, Felix, Seungmin, Han, and Jeongin flanking him. Each radiated danger, yet you met their stares with calm resolve. You pulled a folded slip of paper from your pocket and handed it to Bang Chan.

I want to join.

His sharp eyes scanned it before locking onto you. They weren't disgusted or mad, they were tired and annoyed

"You’re mute," he said.Hyunjin smirked. He was always cocky and the more without a leash on his words one

"And tiny. She’d break if someone breathed too hard."

Changbin laughed. He was the fighter

"What’s she even here for? She looks like a kid."

The others chuckled, their mockery biting, but you stood firm, face unreadable. Bang Chan raised a hand, silencing them. He studied you, eyes narrowing. For a moment, it seemed he might say something else. Finally, he stood.

“You’re not what we need. Go home.”

The rejection cut, but you bowed slightly, turned, and left. You didn’t look back.