Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System! - Chapter 376

Chapter 376: Daegon’s Mission: The Earth Will Bleed
Hwanung could see every detail perfectly, the distance between them irrelevant when rage sharpened your vision to a blade.

Daegon lifted his glass in a slow, mocking toast, the kind of smirk pulling at his mouth that you only saw in villains who knew they were winning. As if the universe decided that dying wasn’t humiliating enough — no, he had to watch this shit, too.

And then, like a final nail hammered straight through his pride, a woman emerged from behind Daegon — tall, wicked, stunning in a way that didn’t feel entirely human — sliding her arms around Daegon’s bare waist and pressing her lips against the nape of his neck, lingering in a kiss that dragged slow and deliberate like a knife. Hwanung’s jaw tightened the second he recognized her.

It wasn’t just any random girl.

It was Yuna.

Jaehee’s friend. One of the few people who had laughed with him, joked with him, bought him coffee on bad training days and told him he was going to be fine. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to be his.

But there she was, kissing Daegon like she had never known another life, her nails dragging over his skin in ways that made Hwanung’s stomach knot into something savage.

And Daegon — that ruthless son of a bitch — kept staring at him the whole time.

No blinking. No shame.

Just smiling lazily, sipping his wine, daring him to move.

Because this wasn’t the first time.

They’d crossed paths the very first week Hwanung arrived, bumping shoulders on red carpets, brushing past each other in high-end hallways like wolves passing in the woods. They’d been keeping tabs ever since — stalking each other’s schedules, watching every move, circling tighter with every damn day.

And this? This had become Daegon’s favorite evening hobby.

Mocking him.

Living too loudly.

Loving too messily.

And making sure Hwanung saw every second of it.

Hwanung closed his eyes against the rising burn in his chest, fists clenching so hard his knuckles went bloodless. For one reckless moment, he thought about tipping forward, letting the wind take him, letting gravity win for once. Letting it all crash down.

But he didn’t.

Because rage was heavier than despair.

And Hwanung wasn’t finished yet.

Not by a long fucking shot.

He stepped back from the edge, breathing like he’d just gone twelve rounds with hell itself. He stared up at the stars — those useless, glittering bastards — and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth like he was some tragic hero in a movie no one was watching.

“Fuck this,” he muttered to no one but the wind. “If he want a war, he’s fucking got one.”

He clenched his fists so tight he could hear the crack of his bones, like even his body was ready to throw hands.

“If Seoryeon wants to forget me, if Jaehee wants to pretend I don’t exist, if Daegon wants to play king…” he whispered, smiling that broken, movie-poster smile. “Fine.”

The wind roared past him, dramatic as hell, whipping his shirt around like he was the main character in some cliché high-budget drama with too much funding and no shame.

“I’ll remind that bastard who the fuck I am.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and stormed back into the building, his shadow long and furious behind him like even the night itself was scared to get in his way.

*

Back inside the apartment, Daegon’s expression slipped the moment he realized Hwanung had turned away from the edge and disappeared into the building.

The smile, the lazy arrogance he wore like a second skin, vanished like mist in a killing wind.

Without a word, without even a flicker of hesitation, he shoved Yuna away from him, hard enough that she stumbled and fell to the floor with a broken little gasp. She caught herself on trembling hands, mascara smudged, mouth open in confusion, but Daegon didn’t spare her a glance. Like she was nothing more than an empty wine glass knocked off a table. He simply stepped over her, moving toward the center of the room with the same cold grace of a predator who had found no worthy prey tonight.

Then the air shifted, humming low and electric, and a portal shimmered into existence right there in the middle of the marble floor — a perfect circle of darkness, oozing tendrils of malevolent energy that licked the edges of the room like hungry tongues. From it stepped a man dressed in sleek black, his eyes like burnt coals, his presence making the luxury around him feel cheap and ridiculous by comparison.

“It’s time,” the agent said, voice as dry as ancient paper. “The Dark Harbingers are being prepared to descend. We need to lay the foundation before they arrive.”

Daegon nodded once, the motion sharp and empty, as if his humanity had been filed down to nothing but obedience long ago. The agent’s gaze flicked to Yuna still crumpled on the floor, a silent wreck of shame and confusion, and he shook his head with a disgusted little sigh. They knew what Daegon was. They’d known from the moment they claimed him. But the higher-ups didn’t care about his appetites, his cruelty, his need to break things just because he could. As long as he obeyed orders when it mattered, he was their perfect weapon.

“I assume you have news about NY Agency?” the agent asked, pulling his gloves tighter over his wrists like he wanted to shield himself from the filth of this place.

Daegon shrugged with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes, jabbing a lazy thumb over his shoulder at Yuna. “Bribed them. Screwed them. Bought loyalty with cash and promises. Nothing. The agency’s walls are too clean. The only thing we know is that the leader’s a woman. That’s it.”

The agent’s face hardened. “The higher-ups said there’s something off about NY Agency. Too quiet. Too shielded. No weaknesses we can find. For now, stop poking at them. We have bigger priorities. Awakening another enemy isn’t part of the plan.”

Daegon’s smile slipped for half a second — he had been looking forward to peeling apart Hwanung’s new life piece by piece — but he nodded.

Orders were orders.

The agent’s mouth curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You can still toy with the Champion if you like. Knock him around a little. Break his heart a few more times. As long as it doesn’t escalate… for now.”

This time, Daegon’s grin returned, slow and sharp, like a blade sliding free of its sheath.

From inside the folds of his coat, the agent withdrew a small black pearl and placed it carefully into Daegon’s waiting palm. It pulsed once, alive with a deep, malevolent energy that made the lights flicker around them. Daegon turned it over in his hand, feeling the thrum of power against his skin like a heartbeat synced to something ancient and wrong.

“It’s time to start gathering candidates,” the agent said softly, like a priest delivering last rites. “The Harbingers will need vessels. Blood will need to be spilled. The foundation must be ready.”

Daegon tucked the pearl into his pocket and glanced once more at the city lights beyond the glass, his thoughts already a hundred moves ahead.

The war had already begun.

And most of the fools out there didn’t even know they were standing on a battlefield.

“Use it now, Daegon!”