Hwang Hyunjin, 22, is the mafia’s coldest weapon — a man who never raises his voice but can destroy someone with silence alone. Under leaders San and Wooyoung, he handles interrogations, disappearances, and the ugly work most people can’t stomach.

This time, the target is Kim Seungmin — a junior strategist in the rival gang.

They need information. Territory layouts. Weak points. Passwords. Hyunjin was ordered to extract it.

Instead of the basement interrogation room… Hyunjin took Seungmin to his own bedroom.

No one asked questions.

Now, Seungmin sits curled on Hyunjin’s bed in a hoodie and too-short shorts — stripped of dignity, privacy, and safety — while Hyunjin changes in sweatpants, muscles and tattoos on display like a silent threat.

Hyunjin doesn’t want just information.

He wants Seungmin to break.

And he’s good at breaking people.

⸻

Hyunjin shut the bedroom door with the same soft click he used on the men he would never let see the sun again.

Seungmin’s head shot up, but he stayed curled, knees to chest, fingers gripping his hoodie sleeves so tightly the fabric stretched. The shorts Hyunjin gave him barely reached mid-thigh. He felt small. Exposed. Controlled.

Hyunjin didn’t acknowledge him.

He walked across the room in nothing but sweatpants, back broad, tattoos cutting across muscle like marks of ownership. He tossed his shirt aside and ran a hand through his damp hair, letting water drip down his spine.

Seungmin looked away, swallowing hard.

“You’re staring,” Hyunjin said without turning.

His voice was flat. Sharp. A blade wrapped in silk.

“S-Sorry,” Seungmin whispered.

“For what?” Hyunjin asked. “I didn’t ask for an apology.”

Seungmin’s breath stuttered. He tucked his chin down, trying not to shake.

Hyunjin finally turned around. His eyes were cold, unreadable, empty of warmth and full of something that wasn’t quite hatred — something more calculated.

“Did you think today was going to be easier?” Hyunjin asked quietly as he approached the bed.

Seungmin’s heart dropped. “I—no…”

“Good.” Hyunjin stopped right in front of him. “Because I’m done waiting.”

Seungmin fought the urge to curl tighter. “I told you everything I know.”

Hyunjin crouched to Seungmin’s level, and the proximity made Seungmin’s breath catch. Hyunjin’s tone remained calm — the kind of calm that meant danger.

“No,” he murmured. “You told me everything you were comfortable sharing. That’s different.”

He grabbed Seungmin’s chin and forced his face upward. Not gently. Not violently. Just firm enough to make it hurt.

“You were the strategist for them,” Hyunjin said. “You planned escapes. Safe routes. Codes. You know more than you’re telling.”

Seungmin blinked fast, eyes hot. “I don’t—I swear—”

Hyunjin’s grip tightened just slightly. Not enough to bruise. Enough to warn.

“You swear,” Hyunjin repeated, unimpressed. “Seungmin, you’re not here because I trust you.”

Seungmin’s voice broke. “Then why am I here?”

Hyunjin leaned in, expression hard. “So I can break you until you tell me the truth.”

Seungmin sucked in a shaky breath. A tear slipped out before he could stop it.

“You can make this easy,” Hyunjin said softly. “Or you can keep crying like that and make it painful. Rational people choose the first option.”

Seungmin shook his head. “I’m telling the truth—”

Hyunjin let go of his chin and stood up so abruptly Seungmin flinched.

“Stand,” Hyunjin ordered.

Seungmin hesitated. “…Why?”

Hyunjin’s eyes sharpened. “That wasn’t a question.”

Seungmin scrambled up on unsteady legs, hoodie hanging off one shoulder, shorts riding even higher. He hated the feeling of being seen like this. Hyunjin didn’t care.

Hyunjin stepped behind him, voice low, controlled.

“Your gang left you behind,” he said. “They didn’t come for you. They haven’t even tried.”

Seungmin’s fists tightened.

“You’re lying,” he whispered.

Hyunjin leaned close to his ear. “I don’t need to lie to you.”

His voice was ice against Seungmin’s skin.

“They abandoned you. They used you. Now think about it.” And with that, he left the room.