Ryongjin was a city where the night was most brilliant.

By day, Ryongjin was a massive trade city. Endless ports along the sea, skyscrapers, foreign capital and tourists, bright lights, and music that never stopped. People called this city the Pearl of the Orient.

But once the sun set, the story changed.

The city's true face only revealed itself at night.

The nights of Ryongjin were divided in two.

Heukcheonhoe under the black sky. And Baekyamun under the pure white lights.

The two were once one, but now they had become beasts tearing at each other's throats.

If you entered the port area, the first thing you smelled was rain.

A street where the damp sea breeze, the fishy scent of the ocean, and the smell of old iron mingled. At the docks where massive containers stretched out like shadows, smuggling ships moved in and out all night. Under red work lights, people moved cargo in silence, and unidentified things often sank into the sea.

People called that place Kiryong Port.

The Port of Ghosts.

It was the most dangerous district in Ryongjin.

Rumor had it that anyone who entered Kiryong Port alone after 4 AM never returned. Even the police didn't slow down their patrol cars, and port workers lowered their eyes if they saw a black umbrella.

That was the land of Heukcheonhoe.

Heukcheonhoe was the oldest criminal organization in Ryongjin. Those who stained the city with blades and fists. The members called each other family and dealt with traitors in the most brutal ways. To them, loyalty was above the law, and revenge was easier than breathing.

Heukcheonhoe's territory didn't end at Kiryong Port.

If you went a bit further in, Black Cloud Street appeared.

True to its name, it was a place thick with black cigarette smoke.

It was an entertainment district where red neon signs flashed all night. Illegal casinos, mahjong parlors, underground fighting pits, and bars stretched on endlessly, with drunks, syndicate members, loan sharks, and fugitives all mixed together on the streets.

On rainy nights, Black Cloud Street always looked as if it were stained red.

No one said whether it was because of the neon lights or the blood.

And at the very end of that street stood Jeoksaru, the Red Snake Pavilion.

It was the headquarters of Heukcheonhoe.

On the outside, it looked like an old Chinese-style pavilion. A worn building with red pillars, a gold plaque, and faded red lanterns. But the moment you stepped inside the doors, the air changed.

Syndicate members in black suits stood in every hallway, and knife marks and bullet holes remained on the walls. Faint bloodstains that had yet to be erased shimmered on the meeting room floor.

And on the other side of the city, a completely different night existed.

Baekrin Castle.

It was the central district where skyscrapers rose endlessly. A place where hotels, conglomerate corporations, political parties, and private member clubs gathered. Even at 3 AM, the streets shone brightly, and people laughed while clinking champagne glasses.

On the surface, it was a perfect high society.

However, everyone knew that behind the laughter of Baekrin Castle, someone's scream was always hidden.

At its center was the Glass Palace.

The headquarters of Baekyamun.

The top floor of the tallest building in the city. Surrounded by glass on all sides, it overlooked the entire night view of Ryongjin. Pure white lights turned on every night, and the city lights reflected in the glass windows like stars.

The people of Baekyamun did not like blood.

At least, not on the surface.

They used contracts instead of knives and moved the media and politicians instead of guns. Someone's company would collapse overnight, someone's name would disappear from the news, and someone would be socially executed.

No traces were left.

That made it even more terrifying.

Seolhwa Street, the Street of Snowflakes, was another face of Baekyamun.

On the surface, it was a beautiful street crowded with tourists. Tea houses lined with white lanterns, luxury souvenir shops, and cafes where quiet classical music flowed. In winter, artificial snow scattered, making it a famous dating spot for lovers.

But as the night deepened, Seolhwa Street transformed into Ryongjin's largest information market.

If you had enough money, you could buy anything from a person's life to a politician's weakness or the transaction records between organizations. However, there was one rule.

Secrets spilled in Seolhwa Street always return as blood.

Ryongjin was that kind of city.

A place where the black night and the white night coexisted while strangling each other.

Heukcheonhoe called Baekyamun hypocrites, and Baekyamun called Heukcheonhoe beasts. Yet ironically, neither could survive without the other.

Heukcheonhoe needed Baekyamun's money and political protection, and Baekyamun needed Heukcheonhoe's violence and control over the streets.

A relationship where they hated each other but couldn't break away.

Like a human who can only live by swallowing poison.

And one winter.

Outside organizations began to covet the nights of Ryongjin.

The smuggling routes of Kiryong Port were shaken, and the corporations of Baekrin Castle were encroached upon one by one. An unidentified force was trying to devour all of Ryongjin.

If the war continued, both would collapse.

Eventually, Heukcheonhoe and Baekyamun sat at the same table for the first time.

It was a rainy night.

The meeting room on the top floor of the Glass Palace.

Black suits and pure white gloves sat across from each other at a long table.

The night of Ryongjin could be seen through the window.

A landscape where the black city and the white city were mixed.

After a long silence, someone said in a low voice:

"We must form an alliance."

But no one trusted each other.

Therefore, a more certain shackle was needed.

And finally, the Sect Leader of Baekyamun set down his glass and spoke quietly.

"Prove it through marriage."