Criminal island

A sleek, ultra-modern skyscraper in a major city. The mahogany boardroom table is surrounded by twelve of the most feared, hardened international syndicate leaders, arms dealers, and drug lords on the planet. They are terrified

At the head of the table sits Lubin. He looks like he just walked out of a high-end luxury catalog, wearing an impeccably tailored designer suit. He is also currently spinning around in his expensive executive leather chair like a dizzy seven-year-old.

The meeting is supposed to be about a multi-billion-dollar smuggling route. Instead, Lubin has completely lost interest because of a minor inconvenience.

Earlier that morning, his super-yacht was slightly delayed entering a public port because of a local coast guard routine check. This minor inconvenience has ruined his entire morning mood. Instead of bribing the harbor master or taking a different yacht, Lubin slams his lollipop onto the glass table, looks dead into the eyes of a terrifying mafia veteran with a face scar, and announces: "I’m bored of sharing the ocean with normal people. The water is crowded. People keep floating in my way."

Roger, one of Lubin's men who deals with all the problems Lubin causes throughout the day, groans, "Sir, don't tell me you already have a plan for a new problem."

Ignoring them all, Lubin walks out with a smug look on his handsome face that makes the breathing stop in everyone present in the room.

That evening on the dark web, a live video is sent to all the crime bosses around the continent—the men people call devils or monsters, though no one is ever aware of how they spend a day in the life of a criminal. The video starts with Lubin in a dark black t-shirt with a dark red stylish jacket over it and black trousers, not a suit because he doesn't want to wear one.

While standing right in front of the camera, Lubin starts with a smirk on his face. "HELLO everyone."

Tom, the hacker of the group and currently the cameraman, says, "Boss, slow down. They aren't deaf."

Lubin replies, "Oh, your mistake, you should have told me that earlier, but I will forgive you for now. As I was saying, hi everyone watching this video right now. Yes, we hacked your computers so this video can only reach you. And by you, I mean you know all of us—criminals powerful from the outside, but always looking over our shoulders, always waiting for a bullet to reach our temples, always worrying about saving our families and our loved ones from the mess we created, isn't it?"

The entire studio is dead silent except for the noise of the camera recording, while on the other side of the camera, the crime leaders watching it also feel silent because they know these are facts.

Lubin adjusts an imaginary tie he isn't even wearing. "So for every problem, there is a solution, and for your problems, I found a solution." He takes the cloth off the table, revealing a model of an island. "Ta-da! 'The Crime Island.' Instead of going to prison, you can say it's basically a vacation spot for all criminals around the world."

"But," Lubin continues, "there are some rules for Crime Island which even you have to follow."

RULE Number 1: 💣

You cannot deal with your enemies at any cost. Once outside the island, you can kill them, but inside the island, you do not touch your enemies, and they will do the same.

RULE Number 2: 🤝

No business deals. Only you and your family time in Crime Island, which provides you with beautiful resorts and theme parks.

RULE Number 3:

If you're not a criminal, you cannot enter Crime Land at any cost.

"So, what do you say? Want to have a great vacation with no fear? Then come to CrimeLand. You will get its location once you agree to all their terms."

The recording ends, showing a video of CrimeLand, which is an extremely beautiful and luxurious vintage-meets-modern style island with many hotels, theme parks, resorts, relaxing sports, and everything a person could imagine. Lubin smirks, knowing his message has been delivered.

Tom says, "Okay, that's a crazy idea there, boss, but it really is something. Why the name CrimeLand? You could have given it a unique name. You know, don't you all agree?"

Lubin answers, "Go ahead and buy your own island and name it yourself. I am not stopping you, am I?"

Roger says, "Well, uhh..."

Tom adds, "CrimeLand is also a very good name, isn't it?"

Lily, the fast driver of the group, rolls her eyes like a diva. "Here we go again."

Lubin declares, "Good! That's what I thought. So to CrimeLand we go."

The cold, concrete warehouse echoed with the heavy silence of impending death. Matteo Rossi, a notoriously ruthless drug dealer and mafia boss, was now kneeling in the dirt, completely destroyed and shaking violently. His breath came in ragged gasps, his voice trembling and stuttering as he stared down the barrel of inescapable doom.

Judge Choi stood over him, unbothered, pressing the barrel of his gun straight against Matteo's forehead with chilling casualness.

"Any last words before I turn you into a memory?" Choi asked, his voice flat and dead-eyed.

"P-please... p-please spare my life, signore..." Matteo sobbed, his whole body shaking. "I'm b-begging you..."

Choi didn't blink. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't end your existence right here."

Desperation flashed in Matteo's eyes. "I... I have a... a secret. Something only high-ranking, untouchable criminals know."

Choi arched an eyebrow, his expression turning mildly amused. "A 'secret,' hmmm? Interesting. What is it?"

"Signore..." Matteo whispered, glancing nervously at the steel weapon still pressed to his skull. "There is a young man. Lubin. Most people don't know about him, but he is actually an untouchable arch-criminal and a crazy mastermind."

Choi rolled his eyes, leaning back casually against a concrete pillar while keeping the gun steady. "Sounds like another brat. I have dealt with a lot of those. There is nothing secret about that, Matteo darling."

"No, wait, wait!" Matteo choked out, panicking. "The thing is... Lubin is making a paradise land for all of the crime leaders. A vacation spot where criminals and their families can relax without ever having to look over their shoulders for police cars or sirens."

At those words, Choi froze mid-breath. For a fraction of a second, his cold composure slipped—then a sharp, sinister smirk slowly pulled at the corner of his mouth.

" A paradise for monsters," Choi murmured, a dark glint in his eye. "How interesting. Alright. You just earned some more time to stay alive. Tell me everything about it, and you're good to go."

Eager for a way out, Matteo spilled every single detail he knew about Lubin’s CrimeLand, rushing through his words like his life depended on it.

Standing nearby, Max—the judge’s high-ranking loyal agent and head guard—wore an expression like a live grenade with the pin pulled. His jaw tightened instantly at the name Lubin, but he kept his voice controlled.

"Boss," Max warned, stepping forward slightly, his eyes locked on Matteo. "Are you sure you trust this piece of trash? He could be lying just to save his head. We can't trust someone blindly—especially people who look like they're about to have a heart attack every three seconds."

Trembling violently, Matteo pointed frantically toward his coat. "I swear to God I am not lying! And I can prove it, I still have the video, sir, I can show you! I told you everything I knew about it, now please... please let me go."

Choi looked down at him with a deadpan, chilling calm. Slowly, he lowered the gun, stepping back and gesturing lazily toward the exit.

"Go ahead," Choi whispered smoothly. "Run."

Without wasting a single breath, Matteo scrambled to his feet and bolted toward the exit as fast as humanly possible.

He didn't make it three steps.

Without breaking eye contact, Choi threw a sideways glance at Jack, the quiet, lethal guard standing in the shadows. Jack understood the silent command instantly. Raising his weapon with terrifying precision, Jack pulled the trigger.

A deafening bang echoed through the concrete room. The next second, Matteo’s body dropped lifelessly to the floor.

Completely unbothered, Choi exhaled softly, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it right over the corpse. He took a long drag, a pleased smile playing on his lips.

"Sarah," Choi commanded, blowing a cloud of gray smoke into the air. "Find out who this Lubin is. Let's see if he actually has a real backbone."

Sarah—the sharp agent working under the judge, standing quietly right beside Max—gave a cold, calculated nod. Without a word, she turned on her heel to complete her assignment.

Following Judge Choi’s orders, Sarah dove headfirst into the encrypted databases, surveillance footage, and global intelligence networks to track down this mysterious "Lubin."

At first, it was just a name on a screen. But as Sarah dug deeper into the background files, piecing together old school registries and hidden digital footprints, a cold realization hit her. The intelligence pointed to an untouchable arch-criminal and mastermind. But looking closer at the encrypted logs, Sarah paused, her breath catching in her throat.

Could it be?

She wasn't entirely sure if this "Lubin" was the exact same Reuben—the boy Max used to call his close friend back in their school days before their bitter falling out over justice and crime.Confused and knowing the dangerous weight of this discovery, Sarah quietly brought the file to Max.placing the digital dossier of Lubin’s real identity on the desk, the room fell dead silent.

Max stared at the screen. The name Reuben stared back at him.

For a split second, the cold, calculating facade of the judge's top enforcer cracked from the inside. Deep down, beneath the layers of absolute loyalty and years of ruthless law enforcement, a buried shock hit his heart. Reuben? The boy he used to call his brother-in-arms, the friend who chose a completely different path during their bitter falling out over justice and crime, was the untouchable mastermind behind CrimeLand.

But Max didn't shed a tear or lose his composure. He was too cold for that. On the outside, his face remained a mask of stone—rigid, unreadable, and deadpan.

Instead of sorrow, a surge of dark, cold anger took over. He wasn't ready to forgive or reminisce; to Max, Reuben was still the traitor who broke their shared code of justice. His jaw tightened sharply, and his eyes flashed with a dangerous hostility.

"Keep digging," Max ordered, his voice dropping into a chilling, low register that masked the emotional storm brewing underneath. "And if this really is him... he won't find any mercy from me just because of old times."

Sarah, watching him closely, understood the complex turmoil hidden beneath Max's icy armor. She recognized that his hostility was actually a defense mechanism against a past he thought he had buried long ago.

Meanwhile, back inside CrimeLand’s high-tech command center, Lily—the sharpest intelligence operative in Lubin's crew, who always managed to extract secrets before people even realized they had them—was running her own surveillance sweep.

Tapping into international law enforcement frequencies and intercepting encrypted data packets, Lily's fingers flew across her dual monitors. Suddenly, she caught a massive anomaly: Judge Choi’s elite agents, led by Max and Sarah, were actively digging into Lubin's past identity, connecting the dots right back to his real name.

Realizing that their cover was on the verge of being completely blown, Lily didn't panic. With a sly, confident smirk, she spun around in her chair and tapped Lubin on the shoulder.

"Boss," Lily said, her voice smooth and carrying that signature edge of knowing everything before anyone else. "We have a slight visitor problem. Judge Choi’s top bloodhounds—specifically an agent named Max—are sniffing around your real history. They know who you used to be."

Hearing this, Lubin didn't even flinch. Instead, a dangerous, playful grin spread across his face. He adjusted his collar, looked at Lily, and immediately set his counter-play into motion—deciding it was time to send the judge a formal, terrifying invitation to CrimeLand.

While the judge’s camp buzzed with silent tension and Max wrestled with his buried history, miles away across the ocean, the first wave of guests was experiencing the surreal reality of CrimeLand.

Families of notorious syndicate bosses, who had spent their entire lives looking over their shoulders, jumping at every passing siren, and locking deadbolts twice, were stepping off private transport into a world built entirely for them.

In one of the luxury beachside villas, a hardened mafia lieutenant sat on a pristine white-sand balcony, watching his young daughter splash safely in a crystal-clear infinity pool. There were no armed guards pointing weapons at his front door, no sudden midnight raids, and no fear of rival cartels tracking his location. For the first time in years, his wife didn't flinch when a car backfired down the street.

Across the resort, in the massive, neon-lit family entertainment arcade, international arms dealers and high-stakes smugglers were doing something they hadn't done in decades: they were simply sitting down to eat dinner with their spouses and kids without a hidden wire or an escape plan.

It was a bizarre, jarring paradox—a utopian luxury resort built on a foundation of absolute criminality. To the outside world, they were monsters escaping justice. But inside these gates, they were just families finally breathing out. And that normalcy, wrapped in golden cages and funded by illicit empires, was exactly what made Lubin's creation so dangerously seductive.

Back in the high-security command center, Judge Choi was wrapped in the quiet routine of his own elite lifestyle. Surrounded by polished mahogany, vintage art pieces, and the faint, relaxing scent of expensive cologne, he poured himself a glass of aged single-malt whiskey. To Choi, power wasn't just about control; it was about comfort, elegance, and the absolute certainty that he was always three steps ahead of everyone else.

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, calmly reviewing the digital files Sarah and Max had gathered on the elusive "Lubin." He smirked to himself, believing his net was finally closing around the mastermind.

Just then, a sharp, distinct rap echoed at his heavy office door. A subordinate stepped inside, holding a sleek, jet-black envelope sealed with a custom wax crest.

"Sir," the guard said carefully, keeping his distance. "This was just left at the outer perimeter checkpoint. There’s no return address, but it’s marked specifically for you."

Choi raised an eyebrow, setting his whiskey glass down with a soft click. He gestured for the guard to leave, then picked up the envelope. Breaking the wax seal, he slid out a thick, embossed card made of heavy cardstock.

Printed in elegant, mocking calligraphy was a personal invitation:

“You are cordially invited to see how the other side vacations. Leave the badge, bring your curiosity. — CrimeLand.”

For a second, the room went dead silent. Choi stared at the words, the sheer audacity of it washing over him. While he had been sitting in his secure study digging into Lubin's past, Lubin had not only known he was being hunted—he had actively watched him do it, and calmly sent a VIP invitation right to his front door.

The realization hit Choi like a sudden, chilling gust of wind. Instead of anger, a dark, dangerous thrill sparked in his chest. His lips curled into a slow, razor-sharp smile. A game of cat and mouse, he thought. Let's see who survives.

— End of Part 1 —

***Part 2 of Criminal Island coming soon!***