Chanchones (a type of Spanish sausage)

Seoul, late evening. The streets shimmer with neon, and shadows lurk in the narrow alleys between the high-rises—a completely different side of the city lives there.

Bang Christopher Chan, 26, an Australian of Korean descent, has controlled one of Seoul's most dangerous districts for three years. He's an enigma to the police, a nightmare to his rivals, and an untouchable boss to his men. His mafia network runs like clockwork: deals, cargo, information. But today, something's going wrong.

Jongin was an ordinary teenager who simply wanted to take a shortcut through a dark alley after a fight with his father. He wasn't looking for trouble, but trouble found him. Two guys in black jackets grabbed him against a wall, pinned him against a brick, and started asking him who he was and why he was there. Jongin was shaking, not understanding what was happening. At that moment, Chan emerged from the darkness.

“Let go,” he said shortly, and his voice sounded as if there was a gun hidden behind every word.

The boys immediately released Jonin and disappeared into the darkness. Chan came closer and looked at the teenager, whose eyes were filled with pure terror.

"Whose are you?" he asked, but Jonin only shook his head, unable to utter a word.

Chan sighed, took off his leather jacket and threw it over Jongin's shoulders.

• Let's go. It's not safe here.

Thus began their strange acquaintance. Jongin expected to be taken away somewhere and held for ransom, but instead, Chan took him to a small café on the outskirts where he knew all the waiters. He ordered hot chocolate and told him to sit and remain silent while he handled some urgent matters over the phone in a mixture of Korean, English, and a couple of other languages ​​Jongin didn't speak.

Gradually, the fear began to fade, replaced by curiosity. Jonin looked at Chan: at his confident movements, at the way the people around him seemed to part before him, as if he were not a person, but some kind of elemental force.