Regia: Park Hoon-jung Apr 2026

Han-si knew what that meant. In Park Hoon-jung's world, a summons from the Chairman was rarely about a promotion. It was a funeral invitation. "Is it true?" Han-si asked. "What they say about the mole?"

Han-si stood up, the legs of his chair scraping against the pavement—a sound like a dying scream. He reached into his jacket, not for a weapon, but for a crumpled photograph of a sister he hadn’t seen since he entered the "New World" of the crime families. He tore it into tiny pieces and let the wind take them. Regia: Park Hoon-jung

"The Chairman is asking for you," Kang said, his voice as cold as the sea. Han-si knew what that meant

As the car sped away, the fog swallowed the tail lights. It was a beautiful, bloody night—the kind where heroes don't exist, and the only thing left to do is choose how you'll go down. About the Director "Is it true

A black sedan pulled up, its headlights cutting through the fog. The window rolled down to reveal , a man who had been Han-si’s "brother" in the syndicate for fifteen years. Kang didn't look at him. He just lit a cigarette and let the smoke drift out into the damp air.