[ Underground Clinic, Near Choryang]
The fluorescent lights buzzed above Eli's head, a sharp, constant hum that irritated his already fraying nerves. His fists rested on his knees, stained with dried blood that wasn't entirely his. Across from him, behind a privacy curtain, the girl he'd pulled from the pit last night was getting stitched up by a nervous nurse.
"She'll live," the nurse mumbled. "But they… they carved something into her arm."
Eli stood. The curtain swayed slightly as he moved past it. One glance was enough. The Drift symbol, jagged and fresh, burned red into her skin like a brand.
He didn't speak. Didn't blink. Just turned and walked out, silence clinging to him like smoke.
[ Industrial Service Tunnel, Jungang District – 11:07PM]
Wind pushed at Eli's hoodie as he crouched on a catwalk overlooking the gutted factory floor below. Graffiti scrawled in every language screamed warnings. And yet the pit was thriving.
Below: a cage surrounded by masked figures, floodlights bouncing off exposed rebar. The crowd buzzed like insects, moving in twitchy, money-slick gestures. There were watchers. Organizers. Runners.
Eli's eye twitched. He took mental notes. Steel floor. Loose panel to the north side. No exits except the freight elevator.
He muttered to himself. "No cameras… means no rules."
He cracked his neck. The Joker twitch in him began to surface—his grin, too wide to be kind.
"Let's make a memory."
[LOCATION: Elevator Shaft, Jungang Pit – 11:26PM]
He stepped onto the cage floor like he'd just woken up from a nap. Calm. Unshaken. The crowd didn't recognize him at first. Then someone whispered.
"That's him."
A shift. A ripple in the pit. Phones rose. Coins fell silent.
A door banged open. The fighter entered.
A wall of meat. Taped hands. No mouthguard. Just a sneer. Cauliflower ears and eyes that looked half dead.
"You him?" the man asked, voice like broken glass. "The Devil of Gupo?"
Eli smiled lazily.
"Only if you're suicidal."
[FIGHT START – Drift Pit, Jungang Subway Cage]
The bell rang. The crowd screamed.
The ex-pro came fast. Measured steps. A low kick feint followed by a piston jab—textbook. Eli took it on the cheek. Didn't flinch.
He counted.
One… two… three—
Burst step and a non-telegraphed upward blow into the jaw hinge. A nerve shot. The man's head jerked back, mouthpiece flying.
Eli spun behind him.
Using Full Counter he intercepted the man's spinning elbow mid-motion. Shifted his weight, redirected the force—and slammed him shoulder-first into the cage wall. Metal screamed.
Blood pooled from his mouth. The crowd roared.
But Eli wasn't done.
The man stumbled back, raising a guard. Eli grinned—voice low, nearly giggling.
"You ever see a shark eat its own teeth?"
A beat. A blink. Then he lunged.
Two body shots. Quick.
Then—Vein Ripper. A knuckle jab to the bicep's pressure point. The man's arm spasmed.
Eli ducked, slipped under a haymaker—
Using Death Fall. Dip, hook the ankle, shift momentum. The man crashed sideways, shoulder crunching into the mat. Screamed.
A stomp to the ribs. The ring went silent.
Then he dropped to one knee beside him.
"Tell Gilwoo…" he whispered, voice almost tender. "Tell him this was a kiss on the cheek."
The ex-pro moaned. Eli patted his chest like a father tucking in a child.
He stood. Walked out with no fanfare.
[Service Tunnel Exit – Jungang District – 12:03AM]
Eli wiped blood from his knuckles with a ripped shirt sleeve. His phone buzzed.
Samuel [Voice Note, 00:05]
"Don't get too comfortable. I think we kicked a hornet's nest. One of them just mentioned CTRL9."
He stared at the screen, jaw tight.
A moment passed. Then he tucked the phone away.
"They always come back, huh?"
[Samuel, Rooftop Overlooking Incheon Docks – 1:12AM]
Samuel's eyes flicked over the shadows gathering beneath the flickering warehouse lights. A cold wind rattled the rusted metal, carrying the scent of salt and gasoline. Somewhere deep in his chest, the old fear stirred—CTRL9's ghosts were stirring again.
His fingers tightened around the small locket hanging from his neck. This fight isn't just for Eli anymore. It's for all of us
[ Alley Behind Abandoned Pharmacy, Namhang District – 2:14AM]
Eli sat beneath a flickering streetlamp, blood crusting on his torn sleeve. A cigarette he didn't light spun between his fingers.
The smell of iodine and old alcohol clung to him.
He opened his palm. A note had been slipped there sometime during the fight.
Folded once. Black ink.
"Come to the docks. Or we start taking pieces."
Eli stared at it.
Then—laughed. Quietly. Almost like a hiccup.
Then louder. A wild ripple of sound that didn't quite match the setting.
He tore the note in half. Then in half again. Tiny squares floated into the night wind.
"Pieces," he murmured, standing. "You better pray I don't take yours first."
He vanished into the wet dark.