**1:00 a.m.**
In the heart of the city, there was a dense forest shrouded in darkness.
The thick, leafy trees blocked even the moonlight from entering — the moon itself couldn't spread its glow there.
The forest was absolutely silent, as still as stagnant water. Not even the rustle of a single leaf could be heard.
But as they say, stagnant water is more dangerous than flowing water — and the same applied to this forest. The more silent it was, the more dangerous it felt.
A deep silence enveloped everything… until suddenly, a gunshot shattered the stillness, echoing through the forest.
Where moments ago there had been utter silence, now there were sudden bursts of sound.
Around **26 men**, holding guns, were advancing through the forest. All of them wore masks — the same design on each — making it clear they belonged to a particular gang.
One man led the group. His mask was slightly different, and it was evident he was the leader, the one directing them.
**His eyes were cold.**
Just then, a wild animal's roar pierced the night.
The man's grip on his gun tightened. He gestured silently to his men, and within seconds, they scattered in all directions.
Suddenly, the weather began to change. Where there was silence earlier, now the sound of thunder rumbled in the sky.
A raindrop fell on the man's hand as he looked up. The next moment, rain started pouring heavily.
With rain making the ground muddy, their movements became slower and more difficult. Their feet kept sinking into the wet earth, making their progress even harder.
Not too far from them, a **27-year-old man** was running in panic.
He wasn't looking ahead, left, or right — just running blindly.
It seemed as if stopping even for a second would mean losing everything.
The forest was filled with thorny trees and sharp grass, making his escape more difficult. His shirt and pants were torn in many places, with blood seeping from the wounds.
He had no shoes on — the dry leaves and sharp stones had left his feet bloody and bruised.
Blood trailed behind him, marking the rocks with red stains.
His forehead dripped with sweat, and his face showed pure panic. His eyes were filled with overwhelming fear.
His breathing was erratic, and it looked like he could faint any moment.
His heart pounded violently in his chest.
Yet, the boy kept running, without stopping — as if this was the last run of his life.
Just then, thunder roared again, and the rain poured down harder.
As the rain hit his wounded feet, blood mixed with water and spread along the path.
But not even the heavy rain could stop him.
In fact, he began running even faster.
Suddenly, he heard a wild animal growl. His steps froze in fear.
He looked around frantically but couldn't see anything.
Then the bushes behind him began to rustle.
His heartbeat nearly stopped.
Gathering himself, he slowly turned toward the sound.
The bushes were thick, and the noise was coming from within.
The rustling grew louder, and his heartbeat quickened.
Suddenly, a small **baby deer** jumped out.
He let out a sigh of relief.
Placing a hand over his heart, he tried to calm himself down.
After resting briefly, he started running again.
He was exhausted — completely drained.
He stopped under a large tree, gasping for breath.
He was terribly thirsty, not even sure how long he had been running in this dark, dense forest.
He looked around and noticed a leaf shaped like a bowl. His eyes lit up.
He bent the leaf into a cup, collected some rainwater, and drank it.
After resting for a while and quenching his thirst, he felt a bit better.
But he knew he couldn't stay here.
Staying meant danger.
He had just run a few more steps when suddenly his foot got caught in something.
The next moment, he was hanging upside down in midair.
A rope tied around his waist was part of a trap — likely set to catch wild animals.
He began thrashing wildly, trying to break free, but all his efforts were failing.
His head was spinning from hanging upside down, and he kept reaching into his pockets to find something — but in vain.
Then, his eyes fell on a small wooden stick caught in his pants.
Maybe it had gotten stuck while running through the bushes.
He carefully pulled it out and began trying to cut the rope.
But it wasn't sharp enough.
His eyes kept darting behind him, worried that someone might be following.
In the silence, only his heavy breathing could be heard.
Then suddenly, he heard footsteps nearby.
Panic deepened on his face.
He quickened his efforts to cut the rope.
The stick scraped his fingers, cutting the skin — blood began dripping.
But he ignored the pain, focusing only on escaping.
Just before he could free himself, a sharp dagger suddenly flashed through the air — and sliced the rope clean in two.
He fell hard to the ground.
The impact was loud — the rocky ground met his head with force.
Pain exploded through his skull.
A groan escaped his lips, and blood trickled from his forehead, running down to the corner of his eyes.
His vision blurred.
He tried to see who had thrown the dagger.
Was it someone trying to help — or a new threat?
His breathing was still heavy, but he had little strength left.
The forest's cold wind stung his wounds.
Light filtering through the tree leaves danced on his fading vision.
He knew that...