Random Scenario Meme — closed ➡my muse Shadow is working for yours Watchman
Doyoung internally cringes when the lumpy envelope slides right off the table top.
Well, that didn’t play out as coolly as it did in his head. Too much push, not enough restraint. He knows how he’s going to be spending his weekend.
( Practising sliding things across surfaces, that’s what. )
Thank goodness the envelope lands squarely on his companion’s lap, giving him the opportunity to play off the blunder as entirely intentional. He’s still cool. Somewhat.
“All the target’s details are in there,” he remarks, nodding towards the fat envelope.
“After going thorough that you’ll know everything there is to know about him… and more,” he drawls, the mask doing little to hide the cocky smirk stretches wide. Fuck, it feels great being a fucking know-it-all. “That should make things easy for you. Hell, I’ve probably already done 50% of the job for you. All I need you to do is…”
He drums his fingers contemplatively on the tabletop, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to find the right words.
“… get him out of my hair.”
The detective was a persistent one who’s somehow latched onto him as a lead for some reason or another. It usually wouldn’t bother him — he’s good at being evasive for the most part — but the man was one of those ‘ends justify the means’ type. Aka dirty. Aka a fucking thorn in his side with how much attention he’s drawing to him.
Doyoung doesn’t want to deal with that shit.
He could’ve potentially dealt with the rat himself — he’s pretty sure ‘dirty’ part is strong enough blackmail material — but that’s more risky than he’d like. He’d rather have it dealt with via proxy. Better have everyone assume it’s a gang affair rather than some random shady individual pulling the strings.
That’s why he’s getting Shadow to do it.
“He doesn’t have to be dead, but he has to back off.How you plan to handle it is all up to you. I don’t care so long as I never have to deal with him again.”
Doyoung realises the irony in his instructions. He’s talking to a hitman. Their jobs are usually to ensure their target dies.
The vagueness of his instructions are for his own sake.
He is by no means a good person. And his capacity for empathy is… sporadic ( else his snuff film blackmail collection would exist ). But it’s one thing playing bystander to murder, and a whole different matter ordering one directly.
Everything else he can rationalise. Ordering a direct hit… he’s not certain. His consciousness might not be able to handle that weight. And God. Oh, God. He still goes to church on Sundays. That weight would be unbearable under his all seeing eye.
At least in his vagueness, there’s reasonable doubt for him to work with.
If Shadow kills him, that’s fine. Because he didn’t directly ask him to. It was Shadow’s choice to do so. He isn’t guilty of that. If he doesn’t kill him, then well. Good too he supposes.
“Once you’re done ping me using the phone I gave you,” he points a lazy finger at the envelope. “I’ll let you pick what you want from my pretty pink burn book ~”