The year 2026 did not arrive with the gleam of a utopia, but with the heavy, neon-soaked shadows of Neo-Seoul—a city fractured into territories ruled by blood and iron. At the heart of the labyrinth lay District 9, a sprawling industrial fortress governed by "The Pack." At their head was the man the underworld called the Sovereign, but to you, he had always just been Bang Chan.
He was a man of cold calculation and lethal grace, a strategist who had carved a kingdom out of chaos. But behind the reinforced steel of his penthouse, he was the glue that held seven broken men together. Seungmin, your older brother, was his eyes and ears—the "Cleaner" who moved through the city’s digital ghosts. Because of Seungmin, you had been raised in the Sovereign’s shadow, a ghost in the machine, protected by a brotherhood that the rest of the world feared.
For years, the boundaries were clear. You were the little sister, the one Felix and Han would lose to in video games, the one Lee Know would cook for when the nights grew too long, and the one I.N would hide behind when the Sovereign’s temper flared. You were safe. You were a secret.
But in the early months of 2026, the air in the District turned sour. A rival international cartel known as The Eclipse had begun to bleed into the borders, and their methodology was simple: strike the heart to paralyze the head.
The shift happened during a private gala held at the summit of the Lotte World Tower. The explosion was silent before it was deafening, the pressurized glass shattering into a million diamonds that rained down on the elite. In the suffocating smoke, you felt the cold grip of a stranger’s hand on your arm. You were leverage, a prize to be used against the Sovereign.
The Eclipse didn't count on the man himself.
Bang Chan didn't wait for his security detail. He moved with a predatory, frightening fluidity that bridged the gap between man and monster. He found you in the wreckage, his tailored charcoal suit jacket discarded, his knuckles white around the grip of his weapon. When he saw the blood on your temple, something in his gaze—something usually kept under a thousand layers of restraint—snapped.
"Close your eyes," he commanded, his voice a low, terrifying vibration that vibrated in your chest.
He didn't just rescue you; he eradicated the threat. Surrounded by the lethal efficiency of Changbin and Hyunjin, Chan moved through the assassins like a storm. When he finally reached you, he didn't hand you off to a medic. He pulled you into his chest, his heart hammering a frantic, possessive rhythm against your ear.
The return to the penthouse was a silent affair. The dynamic had been irrevocably altered. No longer were you the "little sister" to be teased; you were the Sovereing’s primary objective. Chan moved your belongings into his private wing—the inner sanctum where even the other members rarely ventured. He cited "The 9th Protocol," a high-level security measure, but the way he watched you through the cameras, his eyes lingering on your reflection, spoke of a motive far darker than safety.
One night, the rain of late 2026 lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. You found him standing before a holographic tactical map of the city, his sleeves rolled up, his silhouette sharp against the neon blue of the grid.
"Seungmin says the Eclipse has retreated to the harbor," you said, stepping into the blue light.
"They won’t stop," Chan replied, not looking at you. His voice was a rough whisper. "They saw me touch you. They know you are the only thing in this city I cannot replace."
"Is that why I'm locked in here, Chan?"
He turned then, his gaze heavy and hungry, stripping away the years of forced friendship. "I have spent my life building a cage for this city to keep my brothers safe. But now, I realize I would burn every building in District 9 to the ground just to keep the smoke from touching your skin." He stepped into your space, his hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb tracing the line of your pulse with a terrifying tenderness. "You aren't a secret anymore. You are the Sovereign’s heartbeat. And I am a very jealous god."
The final confrontation at the Han River Bridge in the autumn of 2026 was a masterpiece of violence. The Pack moved as a single organism, a testament to the brotherhood Chan had forged. But as the Eclipse fell, it was Chan who stood at the center of the carnage, his eyes never leaving the armored vehicle where you were shielded.
The story of the Sovereign and his "ghost" became the legend of District 9. In the aftermath, as the eight brothers sat around the massive mahogany table in the penthouse—sharing a meal as if they hadn't just rewritten the city's power structure—Chan took your hand. Under the table, out of the sight of your brother’s watchful, knowing eyes, he slid a heavy signet ring onto your finger. It was the seal of the District, a weight of gold and responsibility.
"The city is mine," he whispered into the shell of your ear as the laughter of the brothers rose around you. "But I have never been more of a prisoner than I am to you."
The story ends not with a crown, but with a vow. In a world of shifting allegiances and 2026’s cold technology, the Sovereign had finally found the one thing he didn't have to build: a love worth burning the world for.
ENJOYYYYYYY<333
