In the shadowy depths of Seoul’s criminal underworld lies a mafia known only by whispers—the Vantablack Syndicate. Its operations are flawless, clean, and lethal, hidden beneath layers of elite influence and untouchable secrecy. At the top stand the merciless power couple Choi San and Choi Wooyoung, both aged 24, who run the syndicate like a polished empire of shadows.

Among their finest is Hwang Hyunjin, 23—sharp-eyed, calm, and swift with his blade. But even his ruthlessness pales beside the youngest member of the group, 19-year-old Kim Seungmin. Don’t let his soft voice and delicate frame fool you. Seungmin is a nightmare wrapped in silk. Trained in psychological warfare by his father and brother, and taught precise, brutal efficiency by his mother, Seungmin is the syndicate’s secret weapon. His signature? Slashing his victims’ mouths into grotesque smiles, murmuring: “You’re prettier when you’re smiling.”

Their next target: a man who once hunted and tortured runaway children for fun. But now the tables have turned. The children were saved. By Seungmin. And the hunter is about to meet the most terrifying predator of all.

⸻

The underground chamber was dimly lit, the concrete walls damp with the weight of bloodied history. Chains rattled slightly as the man slouched forward, wrists bound, eyes darting to each figure surrounding him.

San sat with one leg crossed over the other, perfectly composed, while Wooyoung leaned against a column, flipping a knife in his hand with absent elegance.

Hyunjin stood still, arms folded, face unreadable. His gaze was cold as winter. Beside him were Jihyun, Yugyeom, Ryujin, and Yeji—all members of the syndicate, all deadly in their own ways.

The man—greasy, mid-forties, eyes sunken with sleepless fear—spat on the ground. “You think you can scare me? I’ve made kids scream for hours. You’re nothing.”

“Wrong answer,” Yeji muttered, stepping forward, but San raised a hand.

“Let’s see how long your pride lasts,” San said smoothly.

But before another word could be spoken—

A whistle pierced the silence.

That melody.

The exact one the man would hum as he hunted terrified children in cold basements and rotting alleys. Everyone in the room paused. The man froze.

Step…

Slow, steady footsteps echoed down the stone stairway.

Hyunjin’s lips twitched just slightly, a knowing smirk tugging at his mouth. Yugyeom glanced up, spine straightening.

The man began to shake. “No…no, not him. Not him—he can’t be here—I was told he died!”

“You were lied to,” Hyunjin said softly.

The final step landed.

Kim Seungmin emerged from the darkness.

White button-up, bloodied at the sleeves. Glossy black gloves. A red line of dry blood across his cheekbone. His eyes—softly lidded, but glinting with insanity—locked on the man.

“Long time no see,” Seungmin whispered. “Did you miss me?”

The man sobbed, scrambling back, chains clanking. “No, no—please—please—”