The Legend They FearAuxiliary Volume 000 : The Silent King
Scene 1: The Alley Behind the Convenience StoreThe alley was thick with the smell of wet asphalt and cigarette smoke. Late evening cast long shadows, the kind that wrapped around you like a warning. A group of rookie delinquents sat on the ground, their laughter echoing off the walls of the narrow passageway. They were still kids, talking big, trying to carve out their reputation in the streets. Their faces were young, their hands still trembling with the excitement of violence and power.
One of them, Rookie Gangster 1, leaned forward, puffing out his chest, a smirk curling his lips. "Yo, did you see that guy I dropped yesterday? With a punch!" His words hung in the air like a challenge, seeking validation.
Another, Rookie Gangster 2, nodded eagerly. "Yeah, we're the kings now, man. Who's gonna stop us?"
The older figure in the corner, the man who'd been watching them from the shadows, stirred. His cigarette burned low between his fingers, casting flickering light across his weathered face. He didn't move, didn't flinch, but his eyes narrowed, and a quiet, almost imperceptible sound escaped his lips: "Tch... kings, huh?"
The rookies froze, their laughter dying out. They turned to look at him, startled by the sudden shift in the air. The old gangster's eyes were dark, distant, haunted by memories they couldn't even begin to understand.
The old man's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, yet the weight of his words crushed the light-hearted mood. "You kids don't even know what a real king is."
The youngest of them, Rookie Gangster 3, scoffed. "Oh yeah? Then tell us, old man." He leaned in, eager for some old tale, something to laugh at.
The old gangster took a long drag from his cigarette, his fingers trembling slightly as he inhaled. His eyes flickered for a second—just a moment—but it was enough. The rookies didn't catch it, but the hint of fear in those eyes was enough to silence them. For a brief, haunting second, he seemed a thousand miles away.
When he spoke again, his voice was choked, a crack betraying the weight of the memory. "Akio."
Silence fell. The air in the alley seemed to thicken, like the words themselves were poison, seeping into the space around them.
The old gangster exhaled slowly, his voice colder now, filled with a fear that made the rookies shudder involuntarily. "I saw him once. Just once."
A long pause. The younger gangsters stared at him, uncertain, caught between disbelief and the strange gravity of the man's tone.
"A gang of nearly thirty surrounded him. And he…" He stopped, lost in the memory. The seconds stretched, thin like a thread about to snap. "He didn't even raise his fists. They couldn't land a single hit." His eyes were wide, filled with the recollection of something impossible, something they couldn't understand.
Flashback Panel:Akio stood in the middle of the chaos, as though he were untouched by the frenzy around him. Calm, almost disinterested, with a lollipop in his mouth. He moved fluidly, almost lazily, weaving between the attacks of the gang members like they were nothing. Each movement was perfect, every counter measured with precision. One by one, his opponents fell. They never had a chance. Every strike they threw was met with an effortless dodge, and every blow they attempted was countered with brutal efficiency. The whole fight, or whatever you could call it, lasted mere moments. It wasn't fighting. It was something else—something beyond their understanding.
The old gangster's voice returned, slow, like the recounting of a nightmare. "It wasn't fighting. It was like… watching death walk up on them."
Rookie Gangster 1 shifted uneasily, his bravado slipping. "That's just some old myth, right?"
The old gangster turned slowly, locking eyes with him. The gaze was sharp, like the edge of a blade. His voice was low, dripping with venom. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
The rookies fell silent, suddenly aware of how serious this was. The old man lifted his sleeve, revealing a long, deep scar that ran across his arm. It was old, faded, but it was there. A mark of something that had happened long ago but still burned fresh in his memory.
"I got that before he even looked at me. I don't even know what would've happened after."
Rookie Gangster 2 leaned forward, curiosity overriding his fear. "So… what happened to him?"
The old gangster's expression soured, his lips pressing together in a tight line. He didn't answer immediately, lost in the past for a moment longer. When he did speak, his voice was softer, almost a whisper. "He disappeared. Some say he went soft."
He paused, his eyes clouding with doubt. "Some say a girl changed him. But I…" His voice trailed off. "I think he's still out there. Watching. Waiting. From the shadows."
Final Panel:Akio steps off a train at a quiet station in Korea, the world bustling around him, but he's untouchable. His black hair falls over his eyes, his headphones on, his hands buried deep in his pockets. His expression is calm, almost amused, as if the world had never been able to touch him. A subtle smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He's different, but still… the same.
Voiceover (Old Gangster):"The king didn't fall. He just chose silence over war.""But legends… don't stay quiet forever."