The evening air hung heavy over Jinjahan, thick with the scent of smoke, sweat, and something metallic lingering in the wind. The neon lights had returned, flickering like dying stars against the dark skyline, but the city had lost its rhythm. Kim walked through the fractured streets, his steps slow, heavy. He wasn't in a hurry anymore.
Ahead, LimaMart's glowing sign buzzed weakly, its usual hum drowned by the distant wail of sirens. The glass doors were still intact—miraculously—but inside, the shelves were nearly bare. A few desperate shoppers drifted through the aisles like ghosts, picking at what little remained. Kim stopped in front of the entrance. He didn't step inside.
His eyes flicked to the noodle section, where the familiar packaging of his favorite instant meal should have been. With a quiet sigh, he turned away.
Behind him, the city pulsed—The electric hum of broken civilization. The distant sound of shouting. The occasional crash of glass as looters moved under the cover of neon and shadow.
A billboard flickered above, its advertisement glitching—some luxury product meant for people who still had the means to dream. The face of a smiling woman froze on screen, her expression twisting into something inhuman before the display cut to black.
Kim kept walking. Past burnt-out cars, past discarded shoes without owners, past a stray dog sniffing at something lifeless in an alley. Past all of it.
Kim's feet ached, his body was running on fumes, and his mind—his mind was just numb. After what felt like an eternity of walking, he finally reached his apartment building. The old, rust-stained complex stood like a forgotten relic of Jinjahan's past, its concrete walls cracked from years of neglect. The flickering hallway light cast long shadows across the entrance, making it feel more like a prison than a home.
And there, waiting for him—was Mr. Han. The old landlord stood at the doorway, arms crossed, a cigarette burning between his fingers. His face was twisted in something between amusement and disgust. At his feet sat a worn-out duffle bag—Kim's. Kim stopped in his tracks. Before he could say anything, the bag was airborne.
It hit the pavement with a dull thud, rolling slightly before coming to a stop. His life—what little of it existed—spilled onto the cold concrete. "Took you long enough, Rookie."
Mr. Han's voice was thick with mockery, the way someone talks when they know they've already won. He took a long drag of his cigarette before flicking the ash toward Kim's feet. "Two months due. 35,000 Lyd. Today's deadline. No money?" He gestured toward the bag with his chin. "Then get lost."
Kim just stood there. Mr. Han scoffed. "What, being a cop don't pay? All that badge-wearing, gun-carrying—still broke as hell?" He laughed, a harsh, biting sound that made Kim's stomach churn. "Guess catching bad guys don't fill your pockets, huh?"
Mr. Han shook his head, stepping back into the building. "Don't sleep on my doorstep. You're bad for business."
Kim slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and walked. Nowhere to go. Jinjahan never slept, but tonight, it felt more restless than ever. Neon lights flickered over cracked pavement, casting eerie glows on alleyways that reeked of sweat, smoke, and decay. The streets were alive with distant shouts, muffled sobs, and the occasional gunshot—a city tearing itself apart in slow motion.
He just kept walking. And walking. Until he saw it—the Black Serpent Bridge. Jinjahan's largest, most imposing bridge, stretching across the crystal blue waters of the Slither Drake River to connect the city with its sister metropolis, Jinhwa.
By day, it was a marvel of steel and cables, a symbol of commerce and movement. By night, it was a graveyard of forgotten souls. The place where the homeless slept. Tonight, Kim would be one of them.
With a slow, exhausted breath, he descended the crumbling path beneath the bridge. The concrete pillars rose like silent sentinels, graffiti-covered and damp from river mist. Flickering barrel fires cast shadows on bundled figures, wrapped in torn blankets, huddled against the cold. Some were awake, watching him with wary, sunken eyes. Others were already lost in sleep, or something deeper.
Kim didn't care if they judged him. He found an empty spot near one of the pillars, far from the flickering fires, where the shadows stretched long and no one would ask questions.
He dropped his bag, sat down against the cold stone, and let his head rest against the rough surface.
Kim barely had time to close his eyes when he heard footsteps—soft, hesitant, yet deliberate. He opened them to see her standing before him. A girl—no, a woman—young, but worn by the city.
Even in the dim light, he could tell she had once been beautiful in the way people in Jinjahan's neon districts were—sharp eyes, full lips, a face carved for seduction. But now, her beauty was cracked, smudged by exhaustion and struggle.Her long, dark hair hung in damp strands, curling slightly at the ends, framing a face that had seen too much.
She wore a cheap, tight dress that must have been alluring once, but now was creased, torn at the hem, stained with the city's grime. The neckline dipped low, showing collarbones sharper than they should be. A bruise, faint but unmistakable, bloomed along her wrist. She was a ghost of elegance—wrapped in survival.
She knelt beside him, the firelight flickering in her tired, knowing eyes. A small, practiced smile curved her lips. "Need company, officer?" Her voice was smooth but laced with something hollow.
Kim exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "I don't have Lyd."
She didn't even flinch. Instead, her smile widened, something sly beneath it. "Then pay with your phone."
Kim frowned, shaking his head. "Not interested."
The girl didn't budge. She let out a soft chuckle, tilting her head, strands of dark hair falling over her face. "Come on, officer. First customer of the night gets the best service. Fresh and full performance." Her voice had a teasing edge, but beneath it was something more desperate.
Kim scoffed, glancing away. "I told you, I don't have Lyd."
She leaned in slightly, her perfume mixing with the smoke in the air. "Then use your phone. You get what you need, I get what I need—simple."
Kim's jaw tightened. He wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or sheer frustration, but this entire conversation was grating on him. "I said no."
Before the girl could press further, a hand landed on her shoulder. A figure loomed behind her. Kim's body tensed instantly, instincts flaring.
The man was tall, dressed in a dark coat that blended too well with the night. A sleek, expressionless mask covered his face—smooth, metallic, reflecting the firelight in eerie glints. He moved with a controlled, effortless presence, like someone used to being in charge.
Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of Lyd. He placed it gently in the girl's palm. "Go." His voice was low, even, but there was a weight behind it. Authority.
The girl blinked, stunned for a moment, then quickly stuffed the money into her dress. She glanced between the two men before the masked figure lifted a gloved hand and pointed toward a shadowed alley near one of the bridge's pillars. "Wait for me there. I'll take the offer… after I talk to him first."
She hesitated only a second before nodding, then disappearing into the darkness. Now, it was just Kim and the masked man. Kim's fingers twitched near his pocket—where his badge used to be.
"So," the man finally said, tilting his head slightly. "You're the famous rookie cop who got kicked to the streets."
Kim narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell are you?"
The masked man didn't react. He simply stood there, the glow of the fire reflecting off his smooth, expressionless mask. Then, in a voice as calm as ever, he answered "An informant."
Kim clenched his jaw. "That doesn't tell me shit."
The man let out a low chuckle. "It tells you enough."
Kim took a step forward, fists tightening. "You've been following me."
"Tracking you," the informant corrected. "Since you sent that message to Daeyang."
At the mention of Daeyang, Kim stiffened. His mind raced back—back to the desperate, last-ditch message he sent, trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Jinjahan. He never got a response. Kim's stomach twisted. "Why?"
The informant tilted his head slightly, as if studying him. "Because you're in the middle of something much bigger than you realize."
Kim exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Tch. Let me guess. This is about the leak?"
The man didn't answer right away. Instead, he took a slow step closer, lowering his voice. "It's about Iman Daro."
Kim frowned. "And?"
"The kid is target and CPG kidnapped him. The one with the rare ability." His voice was steady, like he was stating an inevitable truth. "A threat not just to Jinjahan, but to all of Edenia."
Kim's blood ran cold. CPG. Kidnapping mutants. Suppressing them. It was the same story, over and over. But now, he was hearing it from someone who actually knew.
Kim's mind spun. "You're one of the hackers, aren't you? The ones who leaked the files."
For the first time, the informant nodded. Just once. Confirmation. Kim's head was pounding, his patience wearing thin. "What do you want? Or more exactly—what does your group want?"
The masked man let out a quiet breath, tilting his head slightly. "Want?" He sounded almost amused. "We don't want anything… except equality."
Kim scoffed. "Right. That's why you hacked the entire city, leaked classified government files, and turned Jinjahan into a warzone?"
The informant didn't flinch. "We're just outcasts, officer. Shadows of this city. We don't belong anywhere—so we make our own space."
Kim stayed silent. Outcasts. Jinjahan had always been brutal to those at the bottom. Kim had seen it every day. Hell, he was living it right now.
The informant continued, "That's why I tracked you."
Kim's eyes sharpened. "And?"
The masked man shrugged. "That's all I can say—for now. I need to find the others."
Kim clenched his jaw. "So that's it? You show up, dump this shit on me, then vanish?"
The informant chuckled under his breath. Then he turned slightly, glancing toward the alley where the girl was waiting. "Oh, one last thing." He gestured lazily toward the darkness. "She won't mind. I gave her 10,000 Lyd—more than enough."
He looked at Kim through the mask. "So, if you change your mind… you can take your turn." Then, he slowly walked away, disappearing into the shadows, heading straight for the girl.