After prison release, Jinrang struggled to adapt to the new gang and his new place in hierarchy. He may had poker face, but internally he was both confused and terrified when bunch of people bowed to him and shouted welcome back at the day of his release. Thank God there was a tofu to eat, to keep himself busy

Actually, there was a whole tournament arc in gang on who will greet Jinrang at the day of his prison release. Local sources say that the final battle, between Sang Baek and Hwang Jungseok, was magnificent in its brutality. Why they couldn’t go together, since they both are closest to Jinrang, these sources do not say

First weeks as a free man were ABSOLUTE MAYHEM for Jinrang. Random citizens thanking him, mayor/ceo/captain inviting him to dinners, and that one rando who told the story of how the previous boss killed his brother… Three. Times. After third Jinrang tries to avoid this guy no matter what

Jinrang gets treated in Busan like he’s BTS eighth member or similar. DG didn’t get such treatment in Seoul they way Jinrang gets in Busan

Jinrang’s parole officer is basically his self-appointed drinking buddy: “So… did any felonies lately? No? Good, good. Let’s go to the new bar near shore”

Speaking of legal issues: the paperwork situation after Jinrang’s arrest was WILD

C’mon, man literally got his name 5 minutes before being arrested 😭

Police registered him as either a North Korean refugee or illegal immigrant—very shady story, which even officers themselves do not understand

Sang Baek and Hwang Jungseok later used the same backstory to get their own documents

Jinrang started (was taught by cellmates) to smoke in prison (not that there is a lot of interesting activities). He smokes when he’s stressed or irritated, so the first weeks he smoked three packs per day. The local convenience store had to increase cigarettes supply special for Jinrang

Even tho prison isn’t a most pleasant place to stay, Jinrang never regret killing previous boss

His only regret that he had to do this earlier, especially when he looks at Sang Baek’s metallic teeth

Jinrang still questions why Sang Baek didn’t do normal teeth implants (worried brother mode on)

Jinrang never actually planned to become boss (he didn’t planned anything, tbh) — he just wanted to protect Sang Baek and Hwang Jungseok. But nobody asked his opinion on this: one day you have two younger brothers to protect, next day you’re ✨hyung-nim✨ to entire gang and part of locals

“The more brothers the merrier” (c) Jinrang

After prison, Jinrangs’s protective big brother mode intensified… Although I’m not sure how it is even possible to be more than it was

Anyone who threatens his pack brotherhood gets promoted to dead

Btw, this whole “hyung/brother” dynamics started because of Jinrang (who’d have thought)

Thanks god he inspired brotherhood dynamics and not a wolf pack dynamics—wolf symbolism remains Jinrang’s insignia

At first, second-gen members treated Jinrang like some mythical figure

Later they warmed up, turning into clingy little brothers

Sang Baek and Hwang Jungseok, Jinrang’s FIRST little brothers, watch this new discovery with jealous pouting (especially Sang Baek)

Offtop: Sang Baek and Hashik Song fight over father older brother rights on Min Jihoon. Nobody told them that Min Jihoon already adopted Jinrang as both his father and older brother. Jinrang didn’t mind

Second-gen members come from the same dumpster as the OG trio

All children from the dump moved to orphanages, and bureaucracy of this period still haunts Hwang Jungseok in nightmares

Most of the previous gang’s money went to these children

In Ma Taesoo’s opinion, Jinrang is babysitter of his children brothers gang

Sang Baek tries hard to keep his cool “adult” face around kids, but turns into blubbering mess whenever Jinrang does literally anything. Half of cigarette packs Jinrang smoked first week was just because of Sang Baek

Hwang Jungseok, suprisingly, was more helpful than Sang Baek and possibly entire gang combined

Despite this emotional scenes, Sang Baek is secretly a business genius without mba. He moved all operations to the gray area where nobody gets hurt (ignore corporations losing a bit to fake cards)

Jinrang, on the other hand, is pure muscle and protection instincts. Let his youngsters play business, he’ll be busy ensuring their safety

Tho he attends business meetings when Baek asks, he’s more a stray cat lone wolf type 🐺

Jinrang may tolerate Sang Baek’s borderline obsession with wolf plushies, but does NOT support it

Little did he know that every gang member and Busan local sleeps with a wolf plushy. This is the most thriving business of gang

These plushies even have the same scar as Jinrang

Kwak Jichang is always welcomed in Busan—VIP treatment from Jinrang

Jinrang’d encourage him to bring his youngster’s to Busan too

Imagine them having sort of barbecue between two families🥺

Last one—Jinrang never named a gang under his name. He never planned to became the boss either. But now he’s a boss of apparently “JINRANG’S” gang

Despite all of this, Jinrang never regrets killing previous boss

P.S. I don’t believe in canon plot and completely ignoring it 😭😭😭

Ma man doesn’t deserve this

who is who:

- Jinrang, feared gang leader from The Generation of Circles, is that Asian son you mom won’t shut up about. The ultimate ‘son of mom’s friend’ energy

- The boy—yes, the boy—is loved by everyone in Busan. Aunties are always happy to see him, pinching his cheeks and stuffing him homemade kimchi. Fishermen hand him the best fish steaks

- Jinrang strolls through a crowded market—gang is fed for the next week. Everything is homemade

- Busan’s communal adopted son

- On rare Seoul trips to visit Gapryong (Jinrang’s loyalty to Busan’s is greater than Hudson’s Ansan simping) rolls in silent and polite, arms loaded with goodies. Gapryong’s family, lovers, random pals—everyone get a treat.

- Seoul loves him too

- Universal Jinrang appreciation society

- Started smoking because Gapryong did it, all blame on him. Gapryong then got scolded by his wife, while Jinrang stood there, apologetically nodding.

- Somehow even Gapryong’s wife likes him, despite him being a gang leader. Is it his charm or Busan treats—unknown

- Side-eyes Gapryon’s “a true man loves all his lades” but keeps quiet out of respect

- Gapryong once told him, “Your fists are hollow.” Jinrang, deadpan: “I fight with elbows. They hollow too?” Gapryong’s still convinced he’s a moron.

---

- Big brother to the gang—to all of the gang, even the ones older than him

- They run to him with problems, whinning, while he’s fishing, back turned. May add a word or two

- Somehow, everything magically solves after this

- Fight Jinrang one-on many and he doesn’t care. But try to fight anyone in his gang two-on-one and you are dead meat

- He’s strong supporter of fair, one-on-one fights. The only thing he took from Fight club was the actual fight club

- All of his closest gang members are fighters from the Arena that he defeated. Jinrang is that one guy who first beats you up and then befriends with you

- Jinrang’s way of making friends is pretty simple

---

- Jinrang thinks Baek Sang switches his brain off in fights. Plot twist: Baek only turns it on around Hyung-nim

- Baek Sang is a HEAVY simp for Jinrang.

- Those fancy higher-up rings was Baek’s idea

- He makes all of rings himself (he learned to make rings just for this)

- Baek’s teeth were supposed to be… wolf fangs

- He wanted to look more “wolf-like” but ended up being “shark”

- Gang legend says Jingrang knocked them out—nobody dares to ask

- Reality is boring: Baek went to a dentist for grillz, but this drama queen overdid it—pure fashion madness

- If you had seen what he wore in pre-Jinrang era…

- He fought the nickname until Jinrang also called him shark (thanks to Hwang). So he became shark ambassador

- Post Baek-fights stress is real, his grins haunts gang at nights. Even Hwang Jungseok, tho he won’t admit it

---

- Despite being called “Wolf”, Jinrang is actually somehow on goot terms with them. Maybe wolf recognizes wolf, nobody knows.

- When Baek was offended by the shark incident (refer to this ) Jinrang brought three actual wolves to howl with under Baek’s window. Problem solved, but Baek is still hated by his neighbors

- These three wolves are actually Jinrang gang members too, namely—Neukjang (old wolf), Neukam (lady wolf) and their pup Neukrin (baby wolf). Jinrang’s their honorary uncle. He keeps treats stocked for them

- Jinrang’s the gang’s cat—appears out of nowhere and then vanishes without a trace. Comes and goes as he likes, naps on roofs

---

- Baek Sang absolutely sucks at fishing

- Hwang Jungseok stills believes in his fishing skills, but actually as bad as Baek. He blames it on his rod and asks Baek for his (you get the reference, yes?)

---

- Jinrang can ride a motorcycle and both looks and does it better and cooler than Jaegwan Do and Hashik Song

- He also has a random connections in the motorcycle words

- Man has friends everywhere

- Sangjin Hyun is actually a PIANO PRODIGY and can play almost any piece after hearing it once. Maybe his fighting copy talent is just an extension of his piano skills

- By day, breaks faces. By night, plays Chopin (his mom is proud of his piano skills so she turns a blind eye on hobby of his)

- Baek once attended Sangjin’s piano concert and felt guilty for wasting such talent on fights

- Min Jihoon is the Karaoke Bar Casanova—all the girls love him. They gossip with him, hug him, and are always happy to see him

- Shin Arim, on the other hand, completely sucks at talking to girls

---

- Baek Sang controls all business processes in the gang and has a passion project

- This is…

- A plushy wolves business

- Baek obsesses with them—checks quality, design, and every aspect of them. Zero profit, 100% hyung-nim simpness.

- Jinrang sends them to orphanages

---

- The rumors of “psychopaths, ready to kill anyone, led by famous gangsta protege” are actually came from…

- Baek Sang, who went overboard (again)

- Upon hearing rumors, Mayor of Busan scolded Jinrang and told them to stop this

- They failed and it went even farther

[P.S.]

- Jinrang is bi??? (spoilers from 545 chapter)

Jinrang stood by the familiar shore and watched the stillness of the night sea. His eyes are the perfect reflection of it. Smoke curled from the cigarette between his lips as his dark eyes scanned the water's surface, searching for something in it.

Nothing.

Just like the emptiness he was feeling.

The familiar horizon, the same spot where he'd sought refuge from the people, has no longer brought the warm he yearned for.

The familiar and dear scenes he'd longed to see just a few months ago didn't give the same sense of fulfillment they used to bring. Something was missing.

Jinrang thought that he'd given his heart to the sea—a long time ago. In the months of forced parting with it, his mind had always sought it as a long-lost lover.

But now, it gave him a sense of concern and coldness, as if he had angered it, or even worse—made it upset.

Looking at it, he couldn't help but wonder if he had fallen from the grace of the sea.

At the same time, he felt like a part of himself had been torn away.

And he had done it with his own hands.

---

This was a fleeting romance from the start. No promises, no future, just the present.

He used to watch you dancing in the kitchen of his rented apartment. When you danced like this, humming local popular songs, the stillness of his heart was disturbed.

You were a pleasant distraction, nothing more—separated by languages neither of you spoke and cultures completely different. But when his hand would instinctively reach for a cigarette, he'd withdraw it. He'd always light it up, not caring who was near and whether they liked it.

Only for you, who always coughed near the smoke, he would refrain from lighting it.

---

In your land, there was no sea.

Stuck there by circumstances, he'd searched the horizon daily, looking for the familiar vastness that gave calm to his soul. Only to find nothing.

You'd always catch this melancholy and longing in his indifferent face. Pressing a timid kiss to his lips, a silent question in your eyes:

"Can't you stay here?"

"I love you," was his answer, never spoken, even in his mind.

"But I can't, I'm sorry, I can't. I can't."

---

One evening, on the day of his homecoming, you had escaped the confines of his apartment for a small trip to the water—a lake in your eyes, a puddle in his.

A silent invitation and you were wrapped in his arms, for the last time. You softly hummed the same songs, the moon illuminating your stage.

"Do you miss it? The sea?" you suddenly asked.

"Yes," he answered truthfully. "With all my heart."

"Someday, I'd like to see it how you see it."

He said nothing, knowing even then that this "someday" would never come for you. Not with him.

---

So you parted, nothing more to add—it was known from the beginning. And yet, with his return to the place he had longed for, he felt like something was missing.

Sang Baek, his trusted right hand man, had to make a new gold signet ring—the symbol of Jinrang's control over the city. Jinrang had let him think he'd lost it.

Second in gang had sensed that something had happened with his hyung-nim, yet remained silent, knowing that none of his questions would receive answers. Maybe this was respect for his boss—what happened there should be known only by him.

Perhaps, what he missed was the ring.

---

"I will cherish these memories," you'd say, lying next to him in bed for the last time, and he could only nod. This was an agreement you both had from the start—temporary comfort. He pulled you into his embrace, letting your head rest right on his heart. Yet, he felt something in his gut.

When you opened your eyes, you saw the shining gold ring he'd always worn. Jinrang was no longer there.

No partings, no airport farewells.

"What an awkward man," you mumbled, taking the ring in your fingers.

He had to go. You too, would soon have to.

---

Min Jihoon was a welcomed guest in your apartment. Always smiling, he could easily win over anyone's heart. For you, who had just moved from a place so different to this, he was a friend who also helped you integrate in a completely different place.

You pulled out another paper for your assignment, just to cause a tall tower of goods to fall right onto the floor.

With a cling, a golden ring circled right in front of Min Jihoon, making him pale. You just noticed the silver signet ring on his finger.

"Oh, is this some local fashion trend?"

"Huh?"

"The ring," you picked it up, putting it back in the box where it belonged. "I guess men just love such things—no matter how different they are?"

"Where did you get it from?" he asked. You waved it off.

"A trinket from a vacation romance I had right before I left," a simple answer for such a significant ring.

---

Min Jihoon's report stunned Sang Baek. As the right hand of the boss, always calm and composed, ready to deal with anything, he was... quite unprepared for this.

"I'll report it to hyung-nim. For now," he looked at him, "you better not let them cross paths."

---

Jinrang stood at the same spot as usual, gazing at the sea from whose grace he feared he'd fallen. He looked at the water and felt as if it reproached him for something he didn't understand. For the first time in his life, he couldn't read it.

In his mind, hidden by smoke and a mask of indifference, his search for the sea's answer intertwined with the sound of your humming.

Why did his thoughts still go back to you?

For months, Jinrang had stood at his favorite shore, asking answers from the sea he'd devoted himself to. Why does he feel hollow now? Why didn't the familiar horizon bring the same feeling it used to?

The cigarette between his lips irritated him.

He closed his eyes, allowing the memories to pass. Your dances in his kitchen. Your humming, filling the silence around him. The nights when your head rested against his chest.

What were you?

The sea remained silent, but something shifted in its stillness, as if it already knew.

Then it struck him. The sea had never been jealous of you. It had been trying to show him that you were part of it, another form of the same thing he had always sought in these waters.

His eyes widened. Oh.

As if to answer his realization, he saw a mirage far away. A silhouette strongly resembling you, watching the horizon so dear to him.

She assessed it with the same curiosity you used to assess him.

He felt the presence of a timid kiss on his lips. A sound of waves, asking for the missing piece of itself that he'd found in the land with no sea. But all this time he had remained deaf to it. He did not fall from its grace—he just found what they both lacked, and the sea was the first to understand it. You were the missing element that would make both him and his beloved sea complete.

He wished he could give you his sea, to teach you what it meant for him. To show what both you and the sea meant to him. To dissolve himself in you two.

You weren't just a distraction.

He loved you. Still loves you.

But the mirage had already disappeared.

Was it even real?

notes: I’m nonchalantly dropping the most random things

Jinrang’s hand rested on your back, his fingers tracing the familiar curve of your spine. Your body trembled against him, still buzzling from the release you’d chased on his thigh. The dampness on it—a raw, messy testament of your desperation and desire. It should’ve repulsed him, this chaotic collision after months apart, but it didn’t. He’d missed you too much—every inch, warm and real, sprawled across him in sleep, careless and unguarded. Your breath feathered against his chest, legs tangled with his, as if the last three months didn’t happen.

He shifted, inhaling deeply. The scent—your scent—flooded his senses, teased with memories he’d clung to in your absence, but it was tainted—with sour, foreign scent of whatever that bastard had slipped into your drink. His jaw clenched, veins pulsing in his free hand as it curled into a fist. He could picture it: that creep’s bones breaking and begging for mercy he’d never grant. But not now. Not yet. You were here, pressed against him, and that was all that mattered.

Three months. Three unbearable month since you’d left him drowning in a sea of questions and half-baked excuses you gave. The gang knew you as his—The King of Busan’s lover, the Wolf’s queen. He’d carved that title into their minds, making damn sure nobody dares to forget. Even when you were gone, that title clung to you. To them, you were still his queen even when you left him. He’d never let it go, never let them forget. He won’t let it fade.

Last time, shock had rooted him in place, left him abandoned. This time, he’d be damned if he let you slip away with another shitty excuse after all of this.

Gently, he eased you onto bed. You mumbled something—(maybe, his name?)—and his fingers hesitated over your cheek, doubt eating him from inside.

Did you even want him here?

He wasn’t sure. But for now you needed rest, the drug still had to fade from you system. He’d wait. He always would.

For you.

---

Morning crept it. Jinrang hadn’t slept, his eyes fixed on you—guarding, possessive, drinking in every detail of you. He traced the lines of your face, now clear in his memory. For a moment, he could trick himself into believing that those three months were a nightmare he’d woken from. You looked peaceful—too damn peaceful for the storm you’d left in his chest or the mess you’d left on his thigh and ring. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he recalled your desperate, clumsy grinding—how you’d whined like a spoiled brat when he wouldn’t give you more than his fingers. Punishment, he told himself, but damn if it hadn’t tested every shred of his restraint.

Then it hit again, as his mind circled to the same old question: Why did you leave? Was it him—too much, too cold, too violent? The gang? His power? His need to keep you close? What made you slip beyond his grasp?

You stirred, a soft groan slipping as your eyes fluttered open. Jinrang watched the realization crash over you—your cheeks flushed, and you yanked the sheet to your chin, as if it could shield you from him or the weight of last nigh. Your gaze circled across the room, in search for you clothes. “Oh gods,” you muttered, voice trembling. “Jinrang, I—last night—I didn’t mean—”

“Save it,” he said voice steady despite the chaos inside. He moved closed, blocking any chance of retreat. “Why did you leave?”

You blinked, caught off guard, head still aching from drugs. “I told you—”

“No bullshit this time,” he snapped, sharper than he intended. “Three months. You owe me that much.”

You flinched, and it cut him deeper than he’d admit—how easily his words could wound you when all he wanted was too pull you back into his arms. You trembled, fear flickering in your eyes.

“I have to go,” you whispered, close to sob. “Please, or—”

“You don’t get to disappear like I meant nothing and expect me to swallow it.” his tone was dangerougs, the hurt bleeding through.

“It was for you sake!” you cried, hand flying to you mouth as if to trap the confession.

“For my sake?” his brow furrowed, confusion intertwining with the anger simmering beneath his skin. The words sound so absurd. He leaned in, hands gripping your shoulders—not to hurt, but to anchor you there. “This is Busan. Nothing beyond me. Tell me who, and they’re gone.”

“You don’t understand,” you whimpered, shrinking under his gaze. “It’s—”

“Name,” he demanded, voice low and cold. “Give me the name and—”

“The Wolf.” you sobbed, tears spilling over.

He froze. “What?” his tone dropped. The word echoed in his mind, and the tattoo on his back—the Wolf—burned on his back.

“Three months ago,” you choked out, “creep with shark teeth—he called me the lover of his hyung-nim. The King of Busan. The Wolf. My friend—she’s tied up with the Four Crews—said he controls them and he’d marked me. That he’d tear apart anyone who got close. Jinrang, I couldn’t let you—”

Silence. Then it hit him—Sang Baek. That loyal idiot. Jinrang’s mind raced: his own possessive bragging to the gang, claiming you as his; Sang Baek’s loyalty spinning out of control; your trembling hands brushing off his concern right before you disappeared. You’d run because of him?

You didn’t know, did you?

The absurdity hit him like a rogue wave. A laugh tore from his throat—wild, unrestrained, shaking his entire frame. Not the usual controlled grunt, but something wild.

“Jinrang, they’re—”

“You—” he wheezed, gasping for air, “you left me because you thought the King of Busan would—what? Steal you? Gut me? Like some soap opera?” He hadn’t laughed this hard in years.

“He’s dangerous!” you pleases, voice rising with desperation, “I didn’t want you in that mess. He’s some famous gangster’s protégé—kills people with one—”

”Dangerous? Me?” The laughter doubled, the unanswered questions dissolving into a ridiculous, cosmic punchline. “Sweetheart, I am the mess.”

You blinked, confused. “What?”

He raised his scarred hand—the one you’d kissed a hundred times—showing off the gold signet ring.

“Busan’s Four Major Crews. Jinrang’s gang. My gang.” He smirked, dark and triumphant. “The King of Busan taking down the King of Busan. The Wolf tearing apart the Wolf.”

Your frown deepened, eyes searching his as if waiting for the explanation.

He leaned it, breath hot against you ear, voice dropping to a rough whisper. “I am the King of Busan, you ridiculous woman.”

The words hung there, absurd and heavy. Despite laughter, his heart thudded—three months apart, and now this. What if you ran again?

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’” he echoed, smirking despite the ache still lingering. “How’d you not know, you beautiful fool?”

“How should I know! You never said!” you protested, embarrassed. “That ring—I thought it was just your style! I pictured some movie villain, not—not you! You’re just… Jinrang. Grumpy. Good with your hands.”

His smirk widened, the mask of indifference he wore cracking under the weight of your words. “Good with my hands, huh? You liked them plenty last night.” He laughed again. “I’m the Busan Arena’s strongest champion—I broke jaws with these hands. And you thought I was your soft teddy bear, saving me from the big bad wolves?”

“Yes,” you mumbled, sparking new wave of laughter.

The King of Busan, The Wolf—a teddy bear in your eyes. Not even a plush wolf.

“Stop laughing!” you cried, tears welling up again, a mix of frustration and shame. “I spent three months hiding because—”

The humor faded, replaced by the weight of those lost months. He pulled you close, erasing the space between you, his arms tightening around you. “I’m not letting you go,” he murmured. “Missed you too much.”

You echoed it, still embarrassed. “Missed you.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked, quierter now. “Think I couldn’t protect you?”

“No one drags their loved ones into danger,” you whispered.

His grip tightened, breath catching in his throat. “Say that again.”

“I love you.” The words sent shivers down his spine, washing away the doubts and questions had festered for months.

“I love you,” he replied, softer than he’d ever spoken.

“Your Majesty,” you added, teasing him through your tears.

“Next time you hear something,” he said, voice low and resolute, “don’t play a knight in shinin armor.

“You owe me for this,” you shot back. “I deserve compensation.”

“Everything you want,” he promised, resting his chin on your head, the warmth of you grounding him. “Just don’t leave.”

A moment passed, the silence feeling like a quiet agreement. Then, with a faint smile, he murmured:

“My queen.”

[P.S.]

“Have you gone mad, Your Majesty?” The question hung there, ridiculous, as you watched the plushy he’d just tossed onto the bed.

“What do you mean?” he asked with calm, unreadable face he did so well.

You lifted a hand, gesturing toward the corner of the room—to a mountain of plushy wolves. All kinds and sizes of plushy wolves ever imaginable, at least found in Busan.

A kingdom of absurdity—all his doing.

Jinrang said nothing. Instead, he turned toward the bathroom with deliberate steps, the broad back turned to you. The Wolf tattoo sprawled on his back—inked claws bared—was a declaration of who he was. The King of Busan. The Wolf. Not some soft thing to be mocked. Under the stoic mask he’d perfected over the generation of Circles, he was offended.

Teddy bear. Not even a plush wolf.

The way you laughed that morning three months ago, solving the misunderstanding, shifted something in him. You’d seen him as grumpy, good with his hands (and he works hard to keep this), man apart from the violence. A teddy bear in your foolish, beautiful mind.

And now, this was Wolf’s revenge.

notes: thank you for reading 🙇‍♀️

pushing chaotic Jinrang agenda 🐺

It’s been three months since you parted.

Why?

Jinrang still can’t figure it out.

He never understood the excuse you gave before disappearing from his life, cutting all ties with him and dissolving into the blinding lights of Busan.

Did he miss you?

That went without saying.

He missed your laughter, the features of your face that were starting to blur in his memory, and the warmth of your presence in his arms. He missed the softness of your body, the way it felt when he held you close, legs spread, sinking deeper into your embrace. He missed the sounds you made when you surrendered to him completely. He missed your scent when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tighter than ever before.

Fuck, he missed you so much.

Three months. Three unbearable months.

You haunted his mind, refusing to leave.

Jinrang frowned, the pounding music in his club disrupting his thoughts. Standing in the shadows, unseen by the crowd, he indifferently scanned the customers. He didn’t realize it himself, but unconsciously, he was searching for one specific person.

His fists clenched, veins bulging on his hands.

There you were, seated with some guy, flirtatiously sipping your cocktail. Jinrang’s dark, predatory gaze followed your every move, tracing the curves of your body with a hunger he couldn’t suppress. Your attention shifted at dance floor, and in that split second, your companion slipped a powder into your drink. He smiled as you finished the glass in one go, oblivious.

You both stood to leave when Jinrang appeared from the darkness, grabbing your wrist.

“Get lost,” he growled, two words dripping with menace. Your companion vanished without a word.

For the first time in months, Jinrang looked at you up close. You were still the same—his favorite scent teasing the edge of his senses. Your misty eyes met his, and you swayed unsteadily. A flush crept across your cheeks as you stumbled into him, wrapping your arms around his frame and pressing your face into his chest, just like you used to. As if nothing had changed.

“Jinrang!” you murmured, tightening your hold.

How he’d missed this—the feeling of your body against his, even with layers of fabric between you. He could sense your rapid heartbeat, your heavy breathing, and then your next words sent a shiver down his spine.

“I-I want you…”

That wouldn’t be a problem.

---

The hotel room door clicked shut behind him as he guided your trembling body inside. You clumsily took off your clothes, body burning with a feverish need. Jinrang sat on the edge of the bed, watching you.

He wanted nothing more than to take you right then—to make you cry out in pleasure again and again, to feel your body pressed against his, his own desire rubbing against his pants. One step, and he could lose himself in your gaze.

He couldn’t.

Not like this. Not when you weren’t yourself. Not when it was some drug driving you, not him.

But he couldn’t leave you in this state either. He had to let you use him—again.

And yet… you deserved a little punishment for abandoning him like this.

He extended his hand between you, offering two fingers.

“You’ll have to use this,” he said plainly. You blinked at his palm, then at his face, a confused whimper escaping your lips. With a shaky breath, you guided his fingers into your warmth.

Jinrang gritted his teeth as the heat and tightness wrapped him. It took every fiber of his being to stay still, his arousal pressing painfully against his pants. You seemed to realize he wouldn’t help, so you began moving on your own, going up and down, chasing your release.

A primal growl burst from his throat. Your moans grew louder as you leaned into him, your hot breath against his chest. He watched you, veins bulging on his hand as he fought his urges. Your pace quickened, but frustration crept in—you couldn’t quite reach the edge. Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him, pleading silently.

How could he refuse that look?

He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes. You gasped, moving harder, your moans increasing as you found your rhythm. Your body clenched around him, and with a final cry, you cummed, collapsing against him.

When you quieted, he withdrew his hand, staring at his glistening fingers before bringing them to his lips. Locking eyes with you—he licked them clean, savoring your taste. You swallowed, shifting to mount his thigh. Wrapping your arms around his neck, your bare chest pressed close to his mouth, you began grinding against him, desperate for more.

He wanted to grab you, to dig his fingers into your softness and claim you fully. But he didn’t. Not like this. Not when you can’t even give your consent.

Would you have even wanted him to touch you if you weren’t like this?

Instead, he let you move, your breaths ragged as you chased another high. The friction drove you wild, and he could feel the tension building in you again. His hands twitched, aching to touch you, but he held back, letting you take what you needed.

“Jinrang…” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you neared the edge once more.

“Go ahead,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Take it.”

And you did. Your body shuddered against him, a soft cry escaping your lips as you fell apart on his thigh. When the waves faded, you collapses forward, breathless and spent, your head resting against his shoulder.

For a moment, there was only silence between you—just the sound of your breathing and the faint hum of the city beyond the walls. Jinrang’s hand finally moved, resting lightly on your back, tracing the curve of your spine. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of those three months hung heavy in the air.

Why had you left? The question still burned in his mind, unanswered.

But for now, you were here. And that was enough.

notes: thank you for reaching the end 🙇‍♀️

Tbh this piece was in my drafts under title “Some horny scenario” and my first ever attempt to write smut. I can’t help myself when he rolled up his sleeve in last chapter

“Noona!”

“Min Jihoon!” you and the successor of Hashik crashed in an enthusiastic embrace, as if years rather than days had passed since your last meeting. In Tuesday. Today is Sunday, the same week.

From his position at the head of the table, Jinrang watched you with carefully hidden displeasure. These higher-ups meetings had become a source of mixed emotions for him—pride in having you by his side, yet unease at how eagerly you anticipated these gatherings.

The way you held the young man, his head tucked against your chest (he even took off his cap), your face lit with unrestrained joy—it stirred something dark in Wolf’s chest, making his usual stoic expression harder to maintain.

“Hyukjin!” you waved cheerfully to Hwang Jungeak’s protégé, while still keeping Min Jihoon close. The three of you quickly found your usual corner, heads bent together in animated discussion.

Baek Sang, standing near Jinrang, felt the atmosphere grow heave. It was a familiar tension, one that surfaced whenever you attended these meetings. Everyone knew about Jinrang’s possessive nature—though it had mellowed somewhat over time, sparing the first generation gang members from his mood swings whenever you showed kindness to others.

But the second generation’s appearance, these successors who were strangers to him, seemed to reawaken old demons.

Jinrang refused to call it jealousy. He had worked hard to overcome those unreasonable rages, though in secret, he acknowledged it wasn’t true growth—just discipline, just self-control. Just fear of loosing you.

He adapted well enough with most of the members of Busan four crews, but something about your trio sparked a primal unease in him. The effortless closeness, the inside jokes, the way you lowered your voice when speaking to them—it all hinted at something kept from him, and that thought alone made his jaw clench.

---

That evening, Jinrang entered your shared bedroom to find you curled up in bed, smiling at your phone with barely contained excitement. The moment he approached, you locked the screen, tucking the device away.

“What were you watching?” he settled beside you, resting his head on your chest, his gentle gaze meeting yours with an intensity that belied his expresionless tone.

“Nothing important,” you deflected, running your fingers through his hard. He closed his eyes, releasing a quiet sigh.

Despite the years you’d spent together, there remained a boundary he couldn’t cross—a line you’d drawn and maintained with careful precision. You kept certain parts of yourself locked away, offering no key to solve these mysteries.

Your relationship existed in carefully maintained spaces. In public, you were his partner—present, but always slightly apart from his world. You attended some of their meetings, helped in business matters, served as a bridge between generations. But you never fully immersed yourself in gang matters, maintaining your own identity beyond his shadow.

In private, you shared a different dynamic. Jinrang softened behind closed doors, allowing glimpses of vulnerability that no one else saw. You were the only one who knew how he liked to be held after difficult days, how he buried his face in your neck when words failed him, how the old nightmares still haunted him. Yet even in these intimate moments, you kept parts of yourself carefully guarded.

So many years together. A shared life, a bed, a future.

Yet, never quite all of you.

It was a silent battle—his possessiveness urging him to uncover every hidden part of you, while you maintained those boundaries, ready to withdraw if he pushed too hard.

His patience wore thinner with each passing day.

His arms tightened around you, drawing a soft laugh. Lost in thought, you hugged him back fiercely, then lifted his face to yours with a smile.

“Something on your mind?” he asked.

“I’ll be busy next Wednesday.”

The brief statement—he knew from experience that if you didn’t share more information immediately, no amount of questioning would reveal your plans.

---

Wednesday was unusually hectic for the King of Busan. Business matters drew him across the city, everything demanding his personal attention

His next stop was the karaoke bar, where an innocent update sent his blood running cold.

“Min Jihoon took leave today,” Shin Arim reported. “He didn’t specify why, but it seemed important.”

Jinrang forced himself to remain calm. Coincidences happened. Beside him, Baek silently prayed this was indeed just a coincidence, though his prayers went unanswered.

“Park Hyukjin requested a day off a week ago,” Hwang Jungeak said, his expression neutral, but shift in Jinrang’s aura was anything but calm.

Jinrang’s teest ground together. Still, it could be fucking coincidence.

But then he saw the three of you.

Through a cafe window, you laughed with two younger men. You were focused on something in your hands, oblivious to his presents.

His mind instantly crafted bloody scenarios—dragging both boys into the Arena, bypassing their mentors’ protection, testing their worth firsthand. But the…

“Noona, you have to stop him!” Jihoon whined. “Or Jinrang-sunbaenim will throw us to the ring and break our bones!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle him,” you waved him off, too absorbed to look at him. “I can’t believe how beautiful my girl is! Absolutely divine!”

Jinrang frowned. What?

Hyukjin leaned in, examining the object. “She really is stunning. How does ORKA-nim keep improving the artwork?”

“I’m telling you, it’s like divine revelation!” you gushed. “It should be illegal to create something this magnificent!”

Jinrang finally looked—really looked—at what had captivated you so much.

It was a collectible card, like the ones Hyun Baekjin sold. But it was drawn.

He had spent years unraveling you, peeling back your layers with careful patience, only to realize he had missed something entirely. Would he ever have discovered this side of you f not for sheer coincidence?

”Why not invite Jinrang-sunbaenim?” Hyukjin asked, unknowingly voicing the question in Jinrang’s mind. “We love your company, but you always invite us instead of him.”

You froze.

”Absolutely not!”

Curious, Jinrang shifted closed to hear better.

“But why?” Jihoon presed.

“You think I haven’t dated before?” you ruffled his hair affectionately. “The only reason this relationship works is because he doesn’t know. As long as he’s unaware, I can control myself and we can stay together.” There was a guilt in your voice.

“I don’t understand…”

“Would he really understand this?” you gestured the card. “It’s always the same pattern—you share your hobby, get excited about it, start talking too much, and then the leave because of it. Every time.” your voice carried old pain.

Each word struck like a physical blow.

You had stood by him through everything. Through blood, fights, power struggles. Your had accepted his darkness, his flaws. And yet, this—this simple joy of yours—you couldn’t trust him with?

Had he failed as a parthner?

“But I found you guys!” you smiled. “Oh, take my picture by the standee!”

Before you could stand up, he stepped forward, taking your phone from your hands.

“Next to her?” he asked, voice unreadable as usual.

You face turned pale, shock making you motionless.

For a moment, Hyukjin worried you might faint.

One look of his and boys fled away, though they needn’t have worried—privately, Jinrang appreciated their role as your safe space.

You stood stiffly beside the standee, watching him for signs of judgement. Jinrang studied you, reminding the same reaction at early days of his courtship.

He studies you for a long moment. Then, he selected a bouquet from a nearby display and placed it in your hands.

“They suit you.” he said simply.

By this simple action, the tension broke. A blush crept across your cheeks, relieve flooding your features.

Standing beside the “divine beauty” girl, you outshone her in Jinrang’s eyes. The smile—not your public smile, not your private one, but something real and beautiful.

He took several photos, satisfaction settling in his chest at finally solving the mystery that had plagued him for so long.

Jinrang knew—he would learn every part of you and claim all of you—one step at a time.

---

That night, back in the warmth of your shared bedroom, you lay curled against him, your head rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing. You scrolled through the photos he took, selecting the best ones for your socials.

Jinrang watched you in quiet amusement, fingers lazily tracing patters along your arm. He had spent the evening processing everything—the secret drawers full of merch, the secret meet-ups, the way you had instinctively hidden that part of yourself from him. And yet, here you were now, nestled against him like always, the very embodiment of comfort and trust.

“When did you get so good at taking photos?” You turned the phone towards him, showing off a perfectly framed shot of you standing beside the life-sized character standee, your face radiant with happiness.

“It’s because it’s you,” he replied, tightening his embrace.

“I should make you my official photographer then.” you teased.

He smirked. “As you wish, Your Grace.” His voice imitating webtoon characters he had skimmed through earlier.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at him.

His arms around you spoke better than his words—protection, acceptance, love without condition.

But then, your laughter turned into something more hesistant. “You really don’t mind?” you asked, voice quieter now. The question was heavier than it seemed, carrying the weight of past rejections and failed relationships.

Jinrang exhaled slowly, as if breathing out the last traces of whatever resentment or frustration had lingered from earlier. “No,” he said simply. “Next time I’ll go with you”

You blinked, titling your head up to study his emotionless face. “Even if I talk too much about it?”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I want to know every part of you—even the ones you think I won’t understand.”

A grin tugged at your lips. “You might regret this when I start a character analysis”

He met your gaze, eyes filled with something steady and unshakable. “Never.”

After a bit, he added.

“Though I won’t be able to memorize the difference in K-pop generations”

“Why did you—”

“Hyun Baekjin is obsessed with this.”

---

Much later, you remained wrapped up in each other, scrolling through photos from previous events. Jinrang listened as you spoke about the stories behind the characters, the nuances of the worldbuilding, power dynamics. Your words tumbled out in excited rushes, only pausing occasionally—almost cautiously—to check if he got bored.

He never did.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you,” you murmured, voice full of guilt.

His arms tightened around you, grounding you in place. “Don’t apologize for protecting yourself,” he said, his voice low, firm. “But know you don’t have to. Not with me.”

You swallowed, the meaning behind his words settling deep. Then, shifting slightly in his embrace, you placed a lingering kiss on his chest, right over his heart.

Silence stretched between you—comfortable and understanding.

“You look hot in this costume,” Jinrang commented the photo from cosplay event. “Give me a show”

P.S.

The next morning, as you prepared coffee for both of you, Jinrang sat at the table, still half-lost in thought.

You placed a cup in front of him, watching as he took a sip. Then almost too casually, you added, “By the way… don’t bully the children.”

Jinrang frowned. He looked up. “When did I—”

“They are scared of you,” you said matter-of-fact, leaning against the counter with a knowing smile. “They don’t know how to act around you. Don’t scare them.”

“I never did.”

“Especially Jihoon and Hyukjin.” you took a sip of your own coffee. “They were practically crying about how you were going to break their bones.”

Jinrang set his cup with a quiet clink. “They are my favorites.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Since when?”

“Since yesterday.” His expression was unreadable. “If I break their bones, it’s just to make them stronger.”

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. “Never say this to children.”

They earned respect of the King of Busan. And, for better of worse, that meant these two would have to deal with him for a long time.

Jinrang loves watching old detective shows with cool, unemotional mc. He used to watch them with Gapryong and always tries to act just as cool. But while he keeps a serious face around others and just untalkative by nature, he can’t help but laugh at almost anything when he's with his gang members.

Jinrang drops the most cringe wolf quotes ever existed straight-faced and Jungseok supports him in this and laughs as hard as the boss. Baek’s love and respect for Jinrang is unmeasurable, but this part of his is unbearable.

This trio in a nutshell:

Baek Sang, getting in fight with Hwang Jungseok over anything. Baek is the most hated in the group because every woman turns her attention to him as soon as he appears. On Valentine’s Day, he even brings bags of chocolates he received to share with his beloved Hyung-nim, but instead of gratitude, he gets beaten by the rest of the gang who got nothing. And Jinrang was the one who punched him first.

Hwang Jungseok tells the dumbest things with the most deadpan face. Nobody is sure if it’s a joke or he is serious.

In his mind, he believes that he’s actual #2 of Jinrang gang

Jinrang doesn’t know they have a hierarchy

Hyun Baekjin is a otaku and hardest K-pop fan you can ever imagine. Jinchan Kang became his successor because he recited all songs of his favorite group by heart. With all movements.

This scene was legendary, Shin Arim filmed it and sent it to higher-ups

Jinrang is that one friend listening to Hyun’s blabbering, not understanding a shit in his words. Hyun appreciates the support of his interests, but in reality Jinrang just spaces out

Whenever Jinrang starts to think that his gang is full of idiots (and he’s the dumbest of them) he goes to fishing. In the middle of the night and always bringing tons of fish for fishermen as gratitude for letting him use the boat and the biggest shark afterwards for the gang.

Fishermen’s favorite boy, btw

Nobody can explain how he catches these ridiculously large sharks and nobody knows what to do this with this ass fish in the middle of the office. Baek is offended by the shark, so the boss has to calm down his right hand

Jaegwang Do and Hashik Song try their best to look cool in bars, hoping to impress women. They even start learning to ride a motorcycle, convinced that it will make them more attractive.

Hashik Song worries a little (a lot) about Min Jihoon’s height, so he makes him eat tons of beans after reading that they help with growth. He proudly calls himself Jihoon’s "dad," while Jihoon is the "officially adopted" son of his, the fact accepted by gang. Nobody asked for Jihoon’s optinion on this.

Nobody asked Jihoon’s opinion when Shin Arim called himself “older brother” of Min Jihoon. Jihoon’s opinion was ignored when other heads also “became” his “older brothers”

Overall, Min Jihoon is a gang’s little boy

Park Hyukjin is introverted and homebody, always pushing himself to go to another gang gathering

Hyun forced the gang to read manga ongoing by selling it to Jinrang because of underground fights. Baek gets in a fight with Hwang for trolling him when Akoya lost to Cosmo (he bite his leg but wasn’t able to chew like Akoya did)

Jinrang won the bet on the Tournament winner. Everyone chalked it up to being the Champion of Arena

Too excited, gang held a tournament of Busan Arena

Guess who was the winner.

“Fight!”

Two figures rushed toward each other in the ring. You tried to dodge the direct hit, but your opponent managed to slice your brow. Blood streamed down, clouding the vision in your right eye. In response, you countered with a swift punch to his left side. He retaliated with a wild swing of his arm. You evaded the blow and kicked his left leg, attempting to knock off his stance.

He stumbled but maintained his footing. Switching tactics, he lunged forward, trying to drag you down into a ground fight—his turf. You anticipated the move, leaping back and driving your knee into his face. The impact left him dazed, giving you the opening to twist his arm and pin him down. One final strike—his body went limp beneath you.

The referee raise his hand. “And that’s it! The fight is over! Tonight, we witness the end of an era! Making their final exit from the ring—a true warrior! What and incredible victory!”

The crowd roared with cheers. Even amid the deafening cheers, that familiar sensation crept over you—the feeling of being watched. It clung to you like a shadow, an ever-present companion during your matches. You will left this mystery unsolved. Pushing aside the unease, you headed to the changing room, determined to make this your last appearance in this place.

Unknown to the crowd, Jinrang observed from his usual spot. It was the same spot where he had witnessed all your fights, his gaze a mixture of professional assessment and carefully hidden affection. As he watched your final victory, memories flooded in his mind: the infamous night that changed everything, every battle scar you’d earned, and his growing resolve to shield your from a world that had shown you nothing but harshness.

---

Hours later, you were on your hands and knees, swearing like a sailor.

The place had emptied long ago, yet here you were, searching for your missing keys. The irony wasn’t lost on you—on the night you planned to leave this place forever, it seemed determined to keep you here. The desire to leave this damned place was not strong enough to sleep under the stars in a park.

A quiet throat-clearing behind you made you jump. You spun around, instinctively creating distance between yourself and the source of the sound.

“Greetings to the Champion” you acknowledged, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jinrang sat perched atop a storage container, his presence both understated and commanding. He held up your keychain, shaking them.

“Looking for these?” he asked, tossing them in your direction. You caught them with a grateful bow.

He raised a bottle in silent invitation.

You weren’t particularly close. In fact, you had barely spoken to each other—not just because of his quiet nature, but because there wasn’t any reason to. Yet, declining his invitation wasn’t an option. Part of it was practical—nobody wished to make enemy such as the King of Busan and his gang. But more than that, it was your last chance to share a moment with the man you’d admired from afar.

Your respect for him went beyond his fighting skills. Jinrang appeared out of nowhere, rising through the ranks to become the Arena’s strongest Champion, then the savior of Busan and the King of Busan. Despite his intimidating aura, he possessed an undeniable magnetism that drew others to him. (and his ass. the best ass I’ve seen in this manhwa)

Your climbed up to join him, letting your legs dangle alongside his. The height offered a different perspective on the place.

“Th-thank you”, you said, accepting the bottle he offered. It was your favorite brand—whether by coincidence or design, you couldn’t tell. Lady Luck must have been on your side tonight—you closed the painful chapter of your past and now you were sharing your favorite drink with the man you admired. The Champion passed some snacks between you, bridging the gap with a quiet camaraderie.

“Good fight,” he said simply. You bowed deeply, the praise meaning the greatest honor you could dream of.

“I appreciate that,” you replied, taking a careful sip. Jinrang did the same, the comfortable silence stretching between you.

“Your last?” His tone was ambiguous—was it a question, a statement, or something more?

“Yes,” you confirmed, gazing at the empty ring below. “I’ve been planning this for a while. Finally followed through.”

His silence invited you to continue.

“I never chose this life,” you admitted. “But thought if I did, he would acknowledge me one day”

The story was well-known in their circles—how your father had forced you into the Arena, his obsession with power bordering on fanaticism.

“But it’s over now,” you added, forcing a small smile. “Though I can’t help feeling… strange about it.”

As you shared the snacks, your thoughts drifted to that nigh. The fight against your father had been more than a match—it was a brutal culmination of your story, one of the most violent confrontations in Arena history. That fight was a pure depiction of ultraviolence. You remembered the horrified silence of the crowd before darkness claimed you.

Jinrang remained quiet, but his presence felt supportive.

Unknown to you, that night had tested his resolve as well. He was dangerously close to stepping in. The thought of losing you, of watching you fall dead in that ring dead clouded his mind. But he had held back, respecting your desire to end this yourself. Your victory had to be yours alone.

Still, he had acted in other ways—arranging the finest medical care, ensuring your bills were paid, sending anonymous gifts during your recovery. Small gestures that he hoped had helped to ease your path to healing.

He couldn’t pinpoint when his interest in you had begun, but he remembered the first match he’d watched. What started out of boredom, had grown into something deeper. Your movements in the ring had captured his attention, awakening a protective instinct in a way he didn’t know.

What began as a professional curiosity evolved into a genuine care, then something more profound. He wanted to protect you, to ensure you never had to fight again. To see you smile without the weight of survival on your shoulders. To offer the security and affection you’s been denied.

And deep down in him, it was a hunger to touch you, to kiss you, to make you his.

You broke the silence with a nervous laugh. “Things are looking up now, though. Got myself an office job—sold my soul to the corporations,” you joked, voice slightly unsteady.

Jinrang’s soft chuckle surprised you.

“Going to live a normal life: morning commute, after-work drinks, just an ordinary life far from all this chaos…” you caught yourself, suddenly aware of how this might sound to the owner of Arena. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Your apology was cut short as Jinrang gently touched the fresh cut on your face. The gesture was tender, almost reverent.

“You’ve shown incredible strength,” he said quietly but firmly. “You’ve earned this peace.”

The simple validation broke something inside you. Tears spilled over before you could stop them. Jinrang drew you into his embrace without hesitation.

“I’m so tired,” you confessed through tears. “All I wanted was a real family. To feel loved. To not be alone anymore.”

You clung to him, your tears soaking into his black shirt. Gradually, surrounded by his warmth, you found yourself relaxing. As sobs quieted, you became aware of his heartbeat agains your ear.

Rapid.

Strong.

Like it carried a message his words couldn’t express.

Jinrang tenderly wiped away your tears with his large finger. You looked away, feeling exposed, but he wasn’t finished. He titled your chin up, forcing to meet his gaze.

His next words came soft yet certain, filled with promise:

“Then… let me be the one to love you”

[P.S.]

Despite your earlier determination to avoid sleeping under the stars, here you were, lying atop of a container beneath the night sky—though in a way you never could have anticipated

“How did you find my keys?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“In the dressing room,” he replied, his deep voice rumbling through his chest.

You shifted slightly to look up at him. “But when did you—”

“I went to leave a gift for you, for your last fight.” His fingers traced idle patterns on your shoulder. “But you’d already left. Found the keys when I was there.”

The revelation struck you silent. All those years of feeling watched of sensing that presence in the shadows—it hadn’t been paranoia after all. The mystery you planned to leave unsolved, was solved.

“How long?” you whispered, barely trusting you voice. “How long have you been…”

“Watching? Caring?” His arm tightened slightly around you. “A long time. Long enough to know every move you make in the ring. Long enough to worry about every hit you take and to know every scar you have.”

The admission hung between you, beautiful and frightening in its honesty. The stars in the skies and ships navigation lights witnessed the moment of vulnerability between two fighters who had spent too long being strong.

If somebody had ever asked James Lee (currently known as Diego Kang and formerly know as DG) about your flaws, despite being a genius, he wouldn’t have found an answer.

Even so, there was one.

Your horrible taste in men.

He could find no other explanation for why you sat so happily by the cafe window, sipping your coffee before the start of your workday. While you effortlessly warmed the whole place with your presence, DG ached—because he knew the reason behind your happiness.

The Wolf.

The King of Busan.

The man adored by all.

Your only flaw.

Jinrang.

You counted the hours until you would finally see your lover again after his long imprisonment. The mere thought of it made your heart beat faster, your smile widen, your eyes glow with anticipation. Oh, how you had missed him. You couldn’t help but think about him.

Little did you know that you longtime admirer had plans of his own for today.

Diego Kang slipped off the gold signet ring, the one so similar to those work by Jinrang’s gang higher-ups. It’s too soon, he thought. You’ll notice.

---

“Thank you for choosing us”, the head of the department said, his voice cautious as he stole glances at DG—the man infamous for leaving the music industry at the peak of his career behind to build his own empire. He couldn’t shake the unease creeping his spine. There was something about the way Diego Kang sat there, utterly indifferent to the meeting. Something that made the air feel colder.

Then came a knock at the door. You entered with a smile, carrying a tray of drinks.

To James Lee, you were the first breath of spring after a brutal winter. Not a single detail escaped his notice. The way your eyes flickered in brief confusion, the second where he was almost caught—before you dismissed it.

Your senior struggled with the projector, the machine refusing to cooperate with him. It was a trivial inconvenience, but for Diego Kang, it was a gift from above. It meant that the task of entertaining him fell to you.

And for the first time in this endless, agonizing crush, he had you—smiling, speaking, focused entirely on him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, sorry”, you chuckled. “It is strange to say, but you just reminded me of someone.”

James Lee’s heart pounded.

“And… who might that be?” he asked., masking his excitement with a smirk.

“Oh, just a classmate of mine.” You laughed, brushing the thought away. But DG caught something in your expression—a flicker of nostalgia.

“You even smirk the same way! If I didn’t know who you were, I’d swear you were him.”

“And what was he like?”

“Oh,” you looked away, smiling fondly. “He was… a genius. Sorry, it’s not like we were close. He was kind of a star at our school. Imagine a guy whose trophies filled entire shelves—our local celebrity, every girl’s dream.” You laughed, lost in old memories.

James could still remember those days—passing by your classroom just to steal a glimpse of you through the window, wondering how he looked in your eyes when he stepped onto the stage to claim another gold medal.

“And did you love him?” he asked, his smirk deepening.

“You bet! He was literally EVERY girl’s idol!” You laughed, waving it off.

To hear you speak of him so fondly—to hear you praise him, without even knowing he was right in front of you—oh, how it thrilled him. If not his self-control, he would have revealed himself that very moment, even if every King of Korea were watching.

The projector was finally fixed, and DG turned his attention back to the meeting. Half-heartedly.

Because now, he was certain.

He will steal you away from the Wolf.

---

Meanwhile, in Seoul, the gates of the prison creaked open, releasing the King.

Baek was there to greet him, just as expected. But Jinrang barely acknowledged him—his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts were of you.

Baek handed him a piece of tofu, a symbolic fresh start. Jinrang took a large bite, silently making his wish.

A new beginning. With you.

As they drove, Baek spoke, but Jinrang barely listened. His thoughts wandered, flickering between anticipation and dread.

Would you still be there? What if you had moved on?

You had loved him when he was just another fighter clawing his way to the top of the Arena. You had nursed his wounds after brutal battles, crying for him even when he swore he was fine. You had stood by his side when he became a champion, when he became the King of Busan.

He was a man loved by everyone. But the only love that mattered is yours.

And what if you no longer loved him?

What if someone else had taking his place? Someone who could cherish you the way you deserved? Someone who hadn’t left you behind.

It wasn’t that he doubted your love. No.

Jinrang never admitted it out loud, but if you were to stab him in the heart, he would accept it as a blessing from his goddess.

But the thoughts of you leaving him?

Unbearable.

As they neared Busan, Baek asked, “Where to first?”

Jinrang’s answer was unexpected.

“To the office.”

This wasn’t a whim. He refused to return to you like this—straight from prison, still tainted by the filth of that place.

A real man loves his lady. That was the first lesson his teacher had taught him. (Though he had conveniently tweaked it a bit and overlooked the fact the his teacher was a manwhore)

---

By the time he reached your shared home, the sky was awash with hued of deep violet and gold.

You had been pacing for hours, anxiety gnawing you.

What if he wasn’t the same man anymore? What if prison had changed him beyond recognition?

The door creaked open.

And there he stood.

Your breath caught.

He was the same. The same stoic face—only now softened with guilt for the time lost.

Before he could say a word, before he could extend the flowers in his hand, you crashed into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“Y-you’re back… F-finally, you are back!”

Jinrang let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his arms tightening around you.

The flowers were crushed between you, their scent mixing with his. But neither of you cared.

For the first time in years, the world faded away.

He lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Will you… allow me?” he murmured.

You pulled him down into a kiss.

Jinrang’s hand slid to the back of your head, his grip firm—desperate to close the distance between you. The moment stretched, everything else ceasing to exist.

When you finally pulled away, he brushed his lips against your tear-streaked cheeks.

After a long silence, you mumbled, “I should have let you in first.”

Jinrang chuckled, holding up the slightly crushed bouquet.

“These are for you.”

You laughed softly as you took them, your favorite flowers. The sight of you, blushing, was like a breath of spring after a long winter, and made something in him settle. For the first time in a long, long time—Jinrang felt at peace.

---

“How was your day?” Jinrang’s voice was low, gentle, as his fingers threaded through your har. The moonlight bathed you in silver, making you look almost ethereal, as if you might disappear with the breeze.

The pendant he had finally gifted you rested against your chest, rising and falling with your breath. The day he had intended to give it to you had never come. Instead, he had been dragged away in chains, left to rot in a prison cell. And now, after all those years, it was finally where it belonged—resting against your heart.

Jinrang pulled you closer, his grip tightening ever so slightly, as if to make sure you were real, that you wouldn’t slip away like a fading dream.

Your head lay against his bicep, face buried in his chest, comforted by his warmth. A small smile played on your lips. It had been so long since you felt this—the warmth of his presence. How many nights you spent sleepless, staring at empty space beside you, heart aching for the man who should have been there?

“Nothing serious. Just embarrassed myself,” you murmured, your voice drowsy. “Told a client he reminded me of the most popular guy from my high school”

Jinrang hummed, continuing to stroke your hair, listening, indulging in the lull of your voice. But when you started reminiscing about your old high school crush, the wolf couldn’t resist baring his teeth in amusement.

“Do you still like him?” he mused. “More than me?”

You scoffed. “Do you even believe what you just said?” A breath of laughter escaped your lips as you shook your head. “You’re the only one for me.”

You pressed a kiss against his lips, and he deepened it, as if savoring your words. The warmth of him, the sheer presence of him, pulled you into a quiet lull. Your eyelids grew heavier, sleep crept upon you.

“And what was his name?” Jinrang yawned. The warmth of you, the security of having you in his arms again, made the past few years feel like a distant nightmare.

He traced the curve of your collarbone and lifted the pedant. The golden ring meant to accompany it, the one he had planned to give you as part of his proposal the day he was imprisoned. Your engagement ring still lay hidden in his belongings. It would remain there for now. The time wasn’t right. Not yet.

First, he would destroy James Lee and his bitches.

First, he would ensure your safety.

First, he would make sure nothing—not even death—could take you away from him again.

“Don’t remember,” you murmured sleepily. “We never talked. Maybe one time”

Jinrang chuckled under his breath. Only you can give such a naive answer.

“It was something like James Lee I think…”

Notes: only at the end I realized how I fucked up the timeline

As a rule, James Lee feels nothing for the first generation. To him, they are just sacrificial lambs, stepping stones on his path, tedious tasks to be crossed off his to-do list. Diego Kang’s rule is simple: the first generation are complete strangers—insignificant, disposable, and irrelevant.

And yet, there is an exception.

The one that proves the rule.

The strongest champion of arena.

The King of Busan.

The man adored by all.

Jinrang.

The man adored by you.

Oh, how he hates him. How he hates that expressionless face—so impassive, so unreadable—until it turns to you and softens. How he hates the quiet, unwavering protectiveness, the way he shields you from the world as something sacred.

How he hates the way you let him.

Your bright smile, so full of warmth, offered freely whenever Jinrang holds you. Your laughter, twisting inside his chest, ringing in his ears long after it’s gone. The lips that press against his, as if the rest of the world no longer exists. But he still exists.

That should have been him.

He should have been the owner of your smiles, the one to pull laughter from your lips. He should have been the one holding your hand, tracing slow circles over your skin, pressing his lips to your palms on moonlit nights. He should have been the one watching candlelight dance over your face, admiring the way the flickering glow traced the delicate contours of your face.

But he was not.

He stands before the mirror, his gaze dark and unreadable. Every detail—the sharp cut of his suit, the inky black of his new hair color, the cold, unreadable stare—reminds him of that man. His gaze fell upon the gold signet ring.

It’s almost perfect.

The Allied are heading to Busan.

Soon it becomes perfect.

He wonders… if he looks enough like Jinrang, will you smile at him the same way?

If he moves like him, speaks like him, breathes like him, fights like him—will you let him take his place?

Will you love him the way you love him?

Endnote: dear lord, I’m so ashamed of myself 😖