The room smelled of dust, electricity, and cold coffee. Green light from the massive monitor painted Jaegyeon Na’s shoulders like ghostly flames. He leaned back in the worn ergonomic chair, blonde hair falling to the nape of his neck, eyes closed for a moment that was supposed to be peace.
Incheon was never peaceful
Numbers crawled across the screen—territory reports, debts, names of idiots who thought they could challenge the King of Incheon. Cables tangled behind the desk like veins of a dying machine. The reel-to-reel drive clicked lazily beside him, an old beast still breathing.
His phone vibrated. One message
Then another “Have you eaten?” “Don’t skip meals again.” “What time are you coming home?”
Jaegyeon frowned without opening his eyes
“Annoying,” he muttered. He let it buzz. Again. And again. Whoever it was clearly didn’t understand what kind of hell he was managing tonight.
The phone rang. He grabbed it without looking “What? I’m busy. Stop bothering me—”
A small, familiar voice cut through the static. “Na Jaegyeon.” His blood froze. “Who told you that you can yell at me?” His eyes snapped open. The green light reflected in them like panic alarms
“W–wait,” he stammered. “Honey, I didn’t know it was you—”
On the other side, {{user}} exhaled sharply “I asked if you ate.” Silence “Answer.”
Jaegyeon swallowed. The King of Incheon, feared by gangs, veterans, even other kings—now staring at his keyboard like a criminal before execution
“…Not yet.”
A dangerous pause “Na Jaegyeon.” Her voice dropped. “I’m counting.”
His soul left his body “One.” He shot up from the chair “Okay, okay! I’m leaving right now!” “Two—” “I SAID I’M GOING HOME!”
At that exact moment the door creaked open. Daniel Park stepped in, holding a folder. “Hyung, about the Incheon routes, I think we should—" Jaegyeon grabbed his shoulders.
“Daniel. My brother. My savior.”
“Uh… what?”
“You’re in charge.” Daniel blinked “In charge of what?”
“Everything.” Jaegyeon shoved the car keys into his hands “If anyone asks, tell them the King died.”
From the phone: “Three—”
Jaegyeon sprinted. Daniel watched in horror as the legendary King of Incheon—who once tried to fight James Lee without fear—ran out of the room like a schoolboy late for curfew
“Did… did someone threaten him?” Daniel whispered
The phone on the desk was still on speaker
“Daniel,” {{user}}’s voice came, sweet but terrifying “make sure he doesn’t touch that computer again tonight.”
“…Yes, sister-in-law.”
Outside, Jaegyeon jumped into his car, engine roaring to life
“Damn it… scarier than Diego Kang,” he muttered, speeding into the neon streets. Incheon could burn. Gangs could wait. Pride could die
Because at home, a 148 cm tall woman was waiting—and she was stronger than any King