Chapter Text
In a world where power was the only currency that mattered, morality was nothing more than an inconvenience. The rich waged wars behind closed doors, and the powerful built empires on the blood of the forgotten. And in the darkest corners of society, where law and justice held no meaning, a monster thrived.
He had no name that the public would recognize, no face that could be traced back to the world’s elite. But his influence stretched further than any politician’s reach, his network more feared than any army. He had built an empire not on land or gold, but on something far more valuable—obedience.
He took children and turned them into weapons.
But his methods were far more insidious than simple abduction. He didn’t just steal children—he stole legacies.
He targeted the heirs of powerful families, dismantling dynasties from within. Pharmaceutical empires, technology conglomerates, financial giants—no industry was safe. Each stolen child was not just another pawn in his game but another nail in the coffin of their bloodline. The parents who resisted met their end swiftly, their wealth and businesses devoured by rivals, orchestrated by the very man who had erased them.
It was a system that fed itself. The information extracted from one doomed family became the key to infiltrating the next. One by one, the pillars of power crumbled under his hand, yet the world remained blind to the pattern. To them, it was misfortune.
Coincidence.
A series of tragic disappearances that no one could link together.
For years, whispers of missing heirs and vanished street children had spread like ghost stories, but no one dared to look too deep. The ones who did never returned. Some said he targeted the wealthy, stealing their children as a warning. Others believed he had no preference—that any child who met his standards would be swallowed into the abyss, erased from the world, and reborn as something else.
Something lethal.
Six-year-old Seulgi sat in the backseat of the car, happily swinging her legs as she savored the sweetness of her lollipop. The city lights flickered past, painting streaks of color on the window as her parents drove through the quiet streets. They had just come from the cinema, a rare family outing that had left Seulgi bubbling with excitement.
"Seulgi, do you want something to eat?" her mother asked, turning slightly in her seat with a gentle smile.
"Mm…" Seulgi tapped her chin, deep in thought, her cheeks still slightly puffed from sucking on her candy. "Ice cream!"
Her mother chuckled, glancing at her husband. "What do you think?"
Her father, Woo Jinhyuk, smiled, his hands steady on the steering wheel. "It’s late, but I suppose one little treat won’t hurt."
The Woo family was wealthy, but they lived modestly, never flaunting their status. As one of the top shareholders of CW Holdings, a powerhouse in the food industry, they had immense influence in the market. Their company controlled some of the most well-known food brands, from agriculture to distribution, making them a silent giant in the business world. Yet despite their wealth, Jinhyuk and his wife, Minah, believed in a simple life, wanting their daughter to grow up without the burdens of privilege.
But in a world where power was the only currency that mattered, wealth wasn’t a shield—it was a target.
And they had just been marked.
Screech.
A black van swerved into their path, cutting them off abruptly. Jinhyuk’s reflexes kicked in, slamming the brakes hard. The car skidded to a violent stop, tires screeching against the asphalt. Seulgi yelped as her body jolted forward against her seatbelt, her small hands instinctively clutching the edges of her car seat.
Her lollipop tumbled to the floor.
"M-My lollipop…" she mumbled, confused.
A heavy silence filled the car.
Jinhyuk’s jaw tightened.
His eyes darted to the rearview mirror.
Dark figures emerged from the shadows—masked men, dressed in black, moving in perfect coordination. They came from alleyways, from parked cars, like wolves circling their prey.
His grip on the steering wheel turned white-knuckled.
"Stay calm," he whispered to his wife, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
Then—bang!
The first knock on the window. Hard. Impatient.
The cold barrel of a gun pressed against the glass.
"Step out of the vehicle," a deep voice ordered.
Jinhyuk exhaled sharply, eyes darting to his wife, then to the backseat where Seulgi sat, small and unaware of the nightmare unfolding. His hands trembled as he reached for the door handle.
As soon as it clicked open, strong arms yanked him out.
"Dada?" Seulgi’s small voice wavered.
Her mother turned, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "It’s okay, baby. Everything’s okay."
It wasn’t.
The next moment, her door flung open, and hands tore her mother away. She screamed, thrashing violently.
"NO! Let me go!" Minah’s voice was raw, desperate. "Please! Don’t touch my daughter!"
Seulgi’s breath hitched as another pair of hands grabbed her, lifting her effortlessly. The world tilted, her tiny body swinging mid-air as she kicked, screamed, and pounded her fists against her captor’s chest.
"Put me down! Mama!"
Her mother lunged forward, only to be shoved back onto her knees beside Jinhyuk, their hands bound behind them.
"Please!" Jinhyuk choked, struggling against his restraints.
"Take whatever you want—money, stocks, assets. I’ll give you everything. Just don’t take my daughter!"
One of the masked men crouched before him, tilting his head. "That so?" he drawled mockingly. "Give us every account. Every password. Right now."
Jinhyuk’s breath was ragged. "I’ll do it—I’ll transfer everything to you, just let her go!"
The man smirked beneath his mask. He pressed a finger to his earpiece.
"We have the information." A beat of silence. Then, a single command:
"Proceed with the mission."
Jinhyuk’s body went rigid. His throat clenched.
"No. No, please—"
Bang.
The first shot echoed through the empty street.
Seulgi flinched violently as her father’s body jerked backward. Red bloomed across his chest like ink spilled on paper. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
Her mother’s scream ripped through the night.
Then—Bang.
Her body crumpled beside his, her delicate frame collapsing onto the pavement.
Seulgi's world shattered.
Her tiny fingers trembled, reaching toward them even as her body remained locked in her captor’s grip.
"Mama?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
The bodies didn’t move.
The blood didn’t stop spreading.
Tears blurred her vision.
"Dada…?"
Nothing.
The masked man holding her sighed, adjusting his grip as she struggled weakly. "Tsk. Kids are always the loudest."
She screamed. Screamed until her throat burned. Until the night swallowed her whole.
And then—
Darkness.
The ocean stretched endlessly before them, its rhythmic waves brushing against the shore in a lullaby of endless whispers. The salty breeze tangled in Jaeyi’s hair as she ran ahead, bare feet sinking into the warm sand. Behind her, her parents walked at a leisurely pace, hands intertwined, the weight of their pharmaceutical empire momentarily forgotten in the golden glow of the setting sun.
Yoo Pharmaceuticals was a titan in the industry, known for developing groundbreaking medicine that saved lives. It had started as a passion project—Jaeyi’s parents weren’t just business moguls; they were scientists, dedicated to curing diseases that others ignored.
They had built their empire with ethics, refusing to sell their research to the highest bidder. But in a world where power and greed dictated the rules, that decision had made them enemies.
Enemies that were now watching.
Jaeyi squealed as she splashed into the shallow waves, the water cool against her skin. Her mother laughed, wading in after her, and for a brief moment, everything was perfect.
Then the first scream cut through the air.
Jaeyi turned, her heart hammering. Figures in black masks emerged from the palm trees lining the private beach, their footsteps silent against the sand. Her father barely had time to push Jaeyi behind him before a gun pressed against his temple.
“Don’t move,” a deep voice ordered.
Jaeyi clung to her mother’s hand, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Her father’s jaw clenched, but he raised his hands in surrender.
“What do you want?” his voice was steady, but Jaeyi could hear
the underlying fury. “Money? Our research? You won’t get anything from us.”
A chilling laugh came from the man holding the gun. “Oh, we already have everything we need.”
The men moved fast. In seconds, Jaeyi was yanked away from her mother, a rough hand wrapping around her wrist. She kicked and screamed, but the grip was ironclad.
“Let her go!” her mother cried, struggling as two men restrained her.
Jaeyi’s father lunged forward, but the cold barrel of a gun stopped him in his tracks.
“You made things difficult for our boss,” the masked man sneered.
“You could have sold your research. You could have worked with us. But instead, you chose morals.” He spat the last word like it was a disease.
“And now, you pay the price.”
Jaeyi saw the moment her father realized what was about to happen. He stilled, his eyes dark with something Jaeyi was too young to understand—resignation.
“No,” he whispered. “Not in front of her.”
But the men didn’t care.
Two of them grabbed her parents, forcing them toward the water. Jaeyi screamed, thrashing against the man holding her, but she was too small, too weak. Her mother met her eyes, and in them, Jaeyi saw a thousand unsaid words.
“I love you,” her mother mouthed.
And then they were forced under.
Jaeyi’s screams tore through the night as the water rippled, her parents’ struggles turning violent before slowing—slowing—until they stopped.
Bubbles rose to the surface.
And then there was nothing.
A cold hand pressed against her mouth, muffling her sobs.
“Tie her up,” one of the men ordered.
Her wrists were yanked behind her back, ropes digging into her skin. She was shaking violently, her entire body cold despite the humid air. The saltwater lapped at the shore, a cruel reminder that her parents would never rise from its depths.
A cloth was pressed against her nose and mouth. The sickly-sweet scent filled her lungs, making her vision blur.
Jaeyi tried to hold her breath.
Tried to fight.
But the darkness was already pulling her under.
The last thing she heard was a voice, distant and emotionless.
"Take her. The boss will be pleased."
As her body gave in to the drug, her mind screamed the last thing she would ever say as a free child.
“Mom! Dad!”
And then—
Nothing.