Lookism: Unchained Fate

This juvenile prison might have block leaders, but Joon-hyuk knew they were not the true kings. Behind them lurked figures who were more cunning, stronger, and far more dangerous—the ones who ruled from the shadows. If Joon-hyuk wanted to take full control of this place, he had to eliminate the real power players.

The night air was thick with the scent of rust and old wood as Joon-hyuk stepped into the abandoned warehouse at the southern end of the prison compound. The dim light from the single overhead bulb flickered, casting jagged shadows across the room. This was the rumored domain of Woo Jin-sung, the man whispered about in hushed voices throughout the facility. Unlike the self-proclaimed leaders of the prison blocks, Jin-sung rarely made public appearances. He didn't need to. Those who dared to cross him never spoke of it again.

Joon-hyuk's eyes scanned the room quickly, assessing his surroundings. A dozen men circled the warehouse, their faces partially obscured by darkness, but their intent clear in the way they stood—tense, ready to strike if given the command. In the center of it all sat Woo Jin-sung himself.

He was taller than Joon-hyuk had expected, his broad shoulders and sinewy arms covered in faded tattoos. His long, unkempt hair fell past his shoulders, and his face bore the scars of countless battles. There was something unsettling about the way he sat there, completely at ease, as if he already knew how this would end.

Jin-sung exhaled loudly and stood up. He stretched his arms lazily before locking his dark, predatory gaze onto Joon-hyuk. "So, you're the brat who's been causing trouble?" His voice was deep, gravelly, laced with amusement. "I'm getting real tired of hearing your name."

Joon-hyuk smirked, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he took a step closer. "Not my fault people can't stop talking about me."

The men around them stiffened. No one talked to Jin-sung like that.

Jin-sung's grin widened. "You think you're king of this place?"

Joon-hyuk tilted his head. "Not thinking. I already am. And you? You're just another loose end I need to tie up."

Silence. Then, like the crack of a whip, Jin-sung lunged.

He moved fast—far faster than anyone his size should have been able to. His fist shot toward Joon-hyuk's face like a battering ram, but Joon-hyuk had been expecting it. He sidestepped, feeling the wind of the punch brush past his ear. He countered immediately, a sharp kick aimed at Jin-sung's knee, but the older fighter barely flinched. Instead, Jin-sung twisted his body, using the momentum to throw a vicious elbow toward Joon-hyuk's temple.

Joon-hyuk ducked just in time, rolling to the side before springing back up. He could feel the force of the missed blow—it would've knocked him out cold if it had connected. This was different from his previous fights. Jin-sung wasn't just strong; he was a killer, someone who had honed his brutality into an art form.

Joon-hyuk needed to end this quickly.

He feigned an opening, stepping slightly to the left and lowering his guard just enough to bait Jin-sung. As expected, the older fighter took the bait, surging forward with a powerful right hook. But the moment Jin-sung committed to the punch, Joon-hyuk moved. He stepped inside the strike, twisting his body and using his opponent's momentum against him. With a sharp pivot, he grabbed Jin-sung's extended arm and, in one fluid motion, slammed his knee into the man's ribs.

Jin-sung let out a sharp grunt, staggering back a step. But he didn't stay down. Before Joon-hyuk could press his advantage, Jin-sung lashed out with a brutal sidekick. Joon-hyuk barely had time to block, the sheer force sending him skidding back a few feet.

A chuckle escaped Jin-sung's lips as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. "Not bad. But you'll have to do better than that."

Joon-hyuk cracked his knuckles. "Don't worry. I'm just getting started."

Jin-sung came at him again, his movements wilder now, more aggressive. He swung high, then low, testing Joon-hyuk's defenses. Joon-hyuk dodged and parried where he could, but the sheer force behind each blow was enough to wear him down. He needed an opening.

Then he saw it.

Jin-sung was relying on his strength, but his movements were predictable. His weight was shifting too much into his punches. If Joon-hyuk could use that against him…

The next time Jin-sung threw a punch, Joon-hyuk caught his wrist mid-motion. In the same breath, he stepped forward, twisted his hips, and executed a perfect judo throw. Jin-sung's body lifted off the ground before crashing down hard onto the concrete floor.

For the first time, the older man looked stunned. Joon-hyuk didn't give him a chance to recover. He straddled Jin-sung's chest, pinning his shoulders down with his knees. Then, with precision, he drove his fist into Jin-sung's face—once, twice, three times—until blood spattered across the floor.

The room was deathly silent.

Joon-hyuk pressed a hand against Jin-sung's throat, leaning down until their faces were mere inches apart. "A ghost that can't even stand isn't a threat."

Jin-sung's breathing was ragged, his eyes clouded with pain and exhaustion. He made no move to fight back.

Joon-hyuk slowly rose to his feet, stepping away. He glanced at the men still surrounding them. "Anyone else?"

None of them moved. Their leader had fallen. The message was clear.

Joon-hyuk exhaled sharply and turned toward the exit. He didn't need to say anything else. The fight was over. He had won.

As he stepped out into the night air, he heard the whispers already starting. They would spread through the prison by morning.

Joon-hyuk had taken down Woo Jin-sung.

There was no doubt about it now.

He ruled this place.

..............

The East Block wasn't ruled by a brute like Jin-sung. Its leader, Cho Kang-min, was infamous for his cruelty in a different way—he preferred psychological warfare, pitting people against each other and manipulating them into self-destruction. However, there was one person even more dangerous than him: Jeon Hyeok-soo, his right-hand man and the silent enforcer from the shadows. 

Joon-hyuk challenged him directly in the East Block's recreation room. Hyeok-soo, a lean man with sharp, snake-like eyes, merely laughed upon hearing the challenge. 

"You walked into my den alone? Aren't you afraid?" 

"Afraid?" Joon-hyuk shrugged. "I'm just worried this fight will be too boring." 

Hyeok-soo's smirk vanished. He struck instantly, aiming a swift punch at Joon-hyuk's throat. But Joon-hyuk had anticipated a dirty move like that. He tilted his head just enough to dodge, then grabbed Hyeok-soo's wrist, yanking him forward and driving a powerful kick into his ribs. 

Hyeok-soo coughed but didn't retreat. Instead, he used the momentum to hook his leg around Joon-hyuk's, attempting to bring him down. However, Joon-hyuk had far more experience in ground combat. He swiftly reversed the situation, using Hyeok-soo's own force against him, locking his arm behind his back in a hold that left him completely helpless. 

"You're not as clever as I thought," Joon-hyuk whispered before pressing down on Hyeok-soo's arm until a faint cracking sound echoed. A sharp cry of pain followed, and his body collapsed. His followers stood frozen, too afraid to move. 

Joon-hyuk scanned their faces one by one. "From now on, the East Block belongs to me. Anyone got a problem with that?" 

Not a single soul dared to speak.