The Hidden Seeds Of A Gangster

Afternoon in Paris, the weather turned ominous. Heavy rain poured relentlessly, and lightning struck the sky without mercy. In an abandoned building, a white-haired man was violating a woman. Her face was filled with despair, tears streaming down her cheeks, yet the man continued his act with deep moans of pleasure until he reached his climax.

When he was done, he casually put his pants back on and left the woman without a second glance. He hurried away, unfazed by the pounding rain soaking his body, as if afraid someone might recognize him.

Moments later, the man arrived home. As soon as he stepped inside, he shouted furiously, "Sammi! Where is my lunch? Why didn't you prepare it?" His voice echoed through the house.

A teenage girl emerged from her room, her face tense, eyes brimming with tears as she responded, trying to suppress her anger, "Mom is gone, and she's never coming back!"

The man scoffed mockingly, "Ungrateful brat! If it weren't for me taking her in, she wouldn't have survived. She got free food and shelter, yet she was still unsatisfied!"

The girl's anger boiled over. She glared at her father with pure hatred. "You have no right to insult my mother!" she snapped, her voice trembling with rage.

Her father rose abruptly, his face flushing red with fury. He slapped his daughter hard. Slap! "You're just like your mother! One day, you'll become a whore just like her!" he spat with venomous hatred.

That was the breaking point. Years of suppressed anger surged through the girl's body. With trembling hands, she raised the knife she had been gripping tightly. Without hesitation, she stabbed her father in the stomach.

"Aaaahh!" The man howled in pain, but his daughter didn't stop. Her hatred consumed her, driving her to stab him over and over, her rage burning uncontrollably.

"Aaaahh!" His screams grew weaker, blood pouring onto the floor in a crimson pool.

Breathless, the girl stood there, the knife dripping with blood in her shaking hands. No one understood what had pushed her to kill her own father. Afterward, she turned herself in to the police. Because she was only 15, she was sentenced to just three years in juvenile detention.

The next day, the entire nation was shocked by the news-the murder of Jones Walker, killed by his own daughter. The tension among the people escalated as they struggled to grasp how a once quiet and well-mannered girl could become a killer.

Meanwhile, the woman who had been assaulted by Jones Walker was found dead after jumping from the same abandoned building where she had been violated. She had tried to fight back but ultimately succumbed to the deep emotional wounds left by the attack. Her tragic fate symbolized the injustice often faced by victims-not only suffering from the crime itself but also bearing the weight of society's stigma.

At the crime scene, a teenage boy sobbed uncontrollably in the crowd, his hoarse voice calling out for his mother, who lay lifeless before him. His red, swollen eyes could no longer hold back the tears, revealing the profound pain of an unexpected loss.

The area was swarmed with police and reporters, ensuring that no detail was overlooked. The relentless clicks of cameras and the chaotic voices of journalists competing for information intensified the already suffocating atmosphere.

---

Seven Years Later

The midnight air was cold and silent. In a dimly lit alley, a man stood trembling. His face was flushed, his breathing ragged, and cold sweat dripped from his temples. His vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness clouded his mind.

Five thugs surrounded him, each holding a sharp weapon that gleamed under the streetlights.

"What did you put in my drink?" he asked, his voice hoarse with barely contained fury as the effects of the drug took hold.

One of the thugs smirked wickedly, his narrowed eyes glinting with amusement. "An aphrodisiac. We're actually doing you a favor." His voice dripped with mockery, as if they had already won.

"You set me up with this trick," Ethan Christopher growled.

Another thug stepped forward, exuding confidence. "Ethan Christopher-who doesn't know you? A gangster boss who can't be taken down easily. The only way to defeat you is by using this method."

Without warning, the five men attacked at once. Ethan's body fought against the drug's effects, but summoning all his remaining strength, he swung his fist and struck one of the thugs hard. Crack! The sickening sound of breaking bones filled the alley.

The thug's body was sent flying backward with a thud! echoing through the deserted street.

"Aaaahhh!" The other thugs gasped, shocked by Ethan's counterattack. They continued their assault, but despite his semi-conscious state, Ethan fought back fiercely, knocking down each opponent one by one.

Meanwhile, across town, a young woman walked lightly along the sidewalk, her phone pressed to her ear, her voice filled with excitement.

"Professor, I finally graduated. I can be a great prosecutor and protect many people," she said, a wide smile spreading across her face, pride shining in her eyes.

On the other end of the call, a man's voice responded enthusiastically. "Congratulations, Grace. Tonight, we'll celebrate together. Come over."

"Alright, Professor. After this, I want you to teach me self-defense," Grace replied cheerfully.

Ending the call, she continued walking, unaware that as she passed a parked car at the corner, a pair of strong hands suddenly grabbed her from behind.

In one swift and brutal motion, someone covered her mouth and dragged her into the vehicle.

"Aaahh! Who are you? Stop!" Grace screamed, panic and terror seizing her. She thrashed, struggling to break free, but the man's grip was too strong.

"Help me," the man gasped weakly-none other than Ethan. His voice trembled with pain and desperation. "I will take responsibility!"

His actions became uncontrollable. He tried to kiss Grace, his trembling hands fumbling with his clothes.

"No! Let me go!" Grace cried out, fighting with all her might, but the streets were deserted-no one could hear her screams.

Her body grew weaker as she resisted. Slowly, the man began removing her lower garments while Grace's tears spilled over, terror consuming her.

"No!" Grace screamed, her voice filled with despair as Ethan, lost in his drug-induced haze, forced her legs apart. Her eyes widened in horror, but her body had no strength left to resist.

Ethan, consumed by his primal urges, moved swiftly, unable to hold back any longer.

"Aaahhh!"

Grace's agonized scream pierced through the silent night. An unbearable pain shot through her body.

The night that should have been one of the most precious moments of her life-her graduation night, marking her journey as a prosecutor-turned into a nightmare that shattered her dignity.

5 Years Ago

After satisfying the desire caused by the drug's influence, Ethan lay weakly in the car seat. His breath was ragged before he finally lost consciousness, unaware of the cruelty he had just committed.

Meanwhile, Grace could only cry. Her heart was shattered, her body weak, and her tears flowed endlessly. Her dignity had been mercilessly taken by a man she didn't even know. Overcome with fear and deep shame, Grace struggled to get out of the car, her steps unsteady. Her body felt as if it had been pierced by a thousand needles, but she had no choice but to leave that place as quickly as possible.

She didn't want to remember or even see the face of the man who had destroyed her.

Staggering along the dark streets, she tried to endure the pain spreading through her body. Her sobs grew louder, but the place was too deserted-no one could hear her cries. That night bore witness to her profound sorrow.

The next morning, in the same car, Ethan opened his eyes, his head throbbing painfully. He massaged his temples, trying to make sense of what had happened.

"What happened? My head... it hurts so much," Ethan muttered hoarsely. His vision gradually cleared, and the surroundings became sharper. He turned his head and saw bloodstains on the car seat-his heart pounded violently. Panic gripped his mind.

His gaze then fell on a piece of women's underwear lying nearby. Suddenly, vague memories from the previous night began to surface. Something terrible had happened, and he was the cause of it.

"Damn!" he gasped in fear. "Who did I take? Why can't I remember anything?" His mind raced, trying to piece together the events, but everything remained blurry.

Ethan looked down, his eyes catching sight of a small, glimmering object on the floor of the car. A broken bracelet. He picked it up carefully, inspecting it more closely. Engraved on the bracelet was a single word: Shin.

"Is this hers?" he murmured, guilt creeping into his heart and mind. Ethan stared at the bracelet that bore the name Shin.

"Shin? Is that her name? Is she Asian?" he whispered, barely audible.

"Shin... sounds like a surname," he continued, still fixated on the bracelet that now felt heavy in his grasp.

---

5 Years Later

The Courtroom

Tension filled the courtroom, growing heavier with each passing second. Bright lights illuminated the face of Ethan Christoper, the man seated in the defendant's chair. His hands were shackled, and the prison uniform he wore added a darker aura to his already menacing presence. His gaze never left Prosecutor Shin, a young woman who stood firmly in her convictions.

The gallery was packed with spectators whispering amongst themselves, speculating about the outcome of the trial.

Prosecutor Shin stood tall before the judge, her voice unwavering as she presented the charges against the accused. Every word she uttered was like a sharp blade, piercing through the courtroom.

"Prosecutor Shin, do you have evidence that the suspect committed assault and murder against the victim?" the judge asked sternly, asserting his authority.

Without hesitation, Prosecutor Shin took out several documents and presented them. "Your Honor! The murder weapon found at the scene contains the suspect's DNA and fingerprints," she stated with absolute certainty, her eyes unyielding.

Ethan, who had been silent all this time, finally lifted his head, glaring at Prosecutor Shin with an intimidating gaze.

"Grace Anderson Shin," he said in a low, menacing tone. "Everything you're saying is false. When I arrived, they were already dead. Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to kill someone inside my own nightclub?" His words carried defiance, as if daring anyone to doubt his innocence.

But Prosecutor Shin remained composed. She met Ethan's glare with unwavering determination.

"Ethan Christoper, anyone can deny their crimes," she replied firmly. "But the evidence speaks for itself."

Among the crowd, Raymond Scott smirked maliciously. His face reflected unmistakable delight, as if he relished Ethan's suffering. That smug smile didn't escape Ethan's attention.

Ethan turned his furious eyes toward Raymond. "Raymond Scott," he growled, his voice laced with rage. "You were there that night." His accusation was filled with venom.

"Order in the court!" the judge commanded, striking his gavel to restore order.

But Ethan didn't stop. He turned to the judge, his expression fierce. "Are you refusing to suspect him just because he's a government official?" he challenged, his voice dripping with suspicion.

Prosecutor Shin remained unfazed despite the rising tension. "Ethan Christoper, every criminal claims innocence," she stated coldly. "You are the owner of the nightclub, and yet you had the heart to assault and murder your own customers." Her words were like daggers, stabbing straight into Ethan's chest.

Ethan clenched his shackled fists, his eyes burning with hatred. "Believe it or not, I will kill you too!" His voice carried a lethal promise, making the entire courtroom freeze.

Prosecutor Shin and Ethan locked eyes, the intensity between them suffocating. The defendant had just issued a direct threat to the prosecutor without hesitation.

Yet, no one in that courtroom knew the truth.

Five years ago, they had shared a night together-strangers caught in a cruel twist of fate.

Now, an inexplicable tension lingered between them, something neither of them could fully understand.

Two hours later.

The trial resumed in a tense atmosphere as the judge prepared to announce the verdict against the murder suspect, Ethan Christopher. In the packed courtroom, breaths were held, and all eyes were fixed on the judge, who held the fate of the accused in his hands.

"Ethan Christopher," the judge declared in a firm voice, "is sentenced to life imprisonment for committing sexual assault and murder. Additionally, the nightclub where the crime took place will be shut down and seized by the state." The words echoed throughout the room, spreading a heavy silence.

Ethan stood abruptly, his face flushed with anger. "I refuse to accept your verdict!" he shouted, his eyes burning with fury as he glared at the judge.

However, the judge remained unmoved. "The evidence and witnesses are irrefutable," he responded firmly. "Whether you accept it or not, you have no right to challenge this ruling!"

Despite successfully prosecuting and convicting the suspect, Prosecutor Shin couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. She glanced at Ethan, who was seething with rage, before shifting her gaze to Raymond Scott, who sat in the corner with a smug smile.

"Good job, Prosecutor Shin," Raymond muttered in a low yet meaningful tone before leaving the courtroom, sending an unsettling feeling through Grace.

Among the spectators, two men wearing dark sunglasses sat with tense expressions. Though their eyes were hidden, their rigid postures made it clear that the judge's ruling was not what they had hoped for.

Disappointment was evident on one of the men's faces-his jaw clenched, and his fists trembled. Swiftly, his hand moved inside his jacket, but his motion was halted by a firm yet subtle touch from his companion.

"Don't be reckless! If you harm someone, you'll only create trouble for our boss," his friend whispered urgently, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings to ensure they weren't being watched.

"But the Boss is innocent. I want to kill the real culprit," the man growled, his voice hoarse with anger. His gaze was locked onto Raymond, who was seated in the front.

As Ethan was being escorted away by security, his fury reached its peak. "Grace Anderson Shin, you are unworthy of being a prosecutor!" he bellowed, his eyes ablaze with terrifying intensity.

Grace swallowed hard, her heart pounding. Despite the confidence she projected in court, a nagging sense of guilt haunted her. Deep inside, she whispered, Forgive me. I will set you free! The resolve within her grew stronger, even though she knew her actions could lead to severe consequences. She couldn't explain why she felt guilty about the judge's decision.

---

Grace Anderson Shin, 27 years old, had a mixed heritage-her mother was of Chinese descent, and her father was French. After enduring a grueling trial, she returned to her office. As soon as she opened the door, she was greeted by her colleagues, who had been waiting with triumphant smiles on their faces. The room buzzed with an air of victory, yet deep inside, Grace felt otherwise.

Billy, one of her most outspoken colleagues, approached her immediately. "Grace, congratulations! You finally took down that gangster boss," he said enthusiastically.

Frank, who was usually more reserved, chimed in. "Grace, the most feared and ruthless mafia boss has finally been brought to justice. This is a major victory!"

Grace didn't respond with the expected smile. Instead, her face was pale, and her brown eyes glistened with something unspoken. "Ethan Christopher was defeated by an unjust system," she said quietly but clearly enough for everyone to hear.

Billy and Frank exchanged confused glances. "Grace, what do you mean?" Billy asked, breaking the sudden silence in the room.

Grace took a deep breath before answering, as if summoning the strength to utter the painful truth. "Raymond Scott is the real mastermind, and I fabricated false evidence to frame Ethan Christopher," she finally admitted, her voice laced with regret and sorrow.

---

Emil, one of Ethan's most trusted men, met with his boss.

He sat anxiously in front of Ethan Christopher in a dimly lit room, illuminated only by the glow of a desk lamp. Outside, the sound of heavy rain echoed faintly, adding to the tension in the air.

"Boss, the law has always been unfair," Emil said, his voice slightly trembling but filled with determination. "We won't stay silent. After we kill Raymond Scott, we'll break you out of prison."

Ethan didn't respond immediately. He simply stared at Emil with piercing eyes, making the man even more uneasy. "Emil, what I want is justice. Killing him would be easy. But the truth will never come to light if we take shortcuts."

"There's one thing you must do-kidnap that prosecutor. I want to know how much that corrupt official paid her to frame me. I'm certain all the evidence against me was fake."

"Should we kill her?" Emil asked in a lower voice.

Ethan smirked-a smile that was anything but reassuring. "No! Just torture her. I want her to clear my name. If she dares to resist, don't hesitate to be more ruthless."

---

Grace had just arrived at her apartment, exhaustion weighing down on her after a long day. She unlocked the door and stepped into the dark room. Her fingers quickly reached for the light switch, but when she flipped it, no light appeared.

The room remained shrouded in oppressive darkness. "The bulb is new. Why isn't it working?" Grace muttered, her brows furrowing in suspicion. She froze mid-step, sensing something was off. The darkness felt heavier than usual, as if it was concealing something dangerous.

Her instincts as a prosecutor-one who had dealt with countless criminals-immediately kicked in, making her hyper-aware. Without hesitation, she reached for the wooden baton she always carried for self-defense.

Her steps were slow but steady as she moved through her eerily silent living room. "If you're already here, why are you still hiding?" she called out, her voice firm yet cautious.

As if in response to her challenge, figures began emerging from the shadows. They moved with calculated precision, closing in on Grace. The faint glow from outside illuminated their presence. There were about twelve of them, and they did not look like they were here for a friendly visit.

"Prosecutor Shin," one of them spoke-the leader of the group, his tone cold. He was Emil, Ethan's right-hand man, standing beside his companion, Ekin.

"Come with us willingly, or we'll take you by force."

Grace's sharp eyes scanned the men surrounding her. Despite being outnumbered, there was not a hint of fear in her gaze. "Ethan Christopher sent you to kill me," she stated firmly. "You underestimate me too much!"

On this dark night, Grace faced twelve formidable gang members, each armed with deadly weapons. Would she be able to fight them off?