Well shit. Jaebum stares at the computer screen, detailing the specifics of his next target. It’s one he knows a little too well, and one who would definitely prove resistant to his forms of ‘persuasion’. He was a slimeball and a snake. Maybe he needed a different kind of information extractor for this job, as much as he hated to admit it.
He hated admitting that he was worse at his job than someone else. He also hated the thought of sharing information. Information was power, and it gave him his edge. But there was no way he would be able to get the information out of his target himself. But he knows at least one kidnapper who might be up for the job.
Pulling out his phone, he dials a number and waits until the other party picks up. “I’d like to hire you for a job.”
surprisingly he kept his word with the other. he did not re-upload anything pertaining to lex (also known as that asshole youngjae) nor did he even bother telling the hospital staff what happened. the only person he told was hyungsik, a few weeks after when things had settled and he had begun healing. he kept to himself, trying to avoid going outside for too long considering apparently some other gangs were pissed at him or whatever. there really wasn’t much he could do about it so he just simply left it at that.
when he can finally stand up without feeling like shit, he decides to take a long walk around hogndae, collect pokemon and go shopping for some groceries. he needs to stop eating out so much.
happily he is in the midst of catching a few pokestops when he feels a chill run down his spine. he ignores it for now but he’s becoming more paranoid as the days have been going on. he is uncertain about what’s going to happen to him as he closes the app, already opening up his dial pad. if he has to, he’ll call hyungsik. although hyungsik knows the very gist of what happened to him, he’s ready to call out whoever is being a fucking weirdo.
he decides to walk home, walking more briskly than he usually would. he weaves in between the crowds, uncertain of who could be giving him this feeling. that weird vanguard member he ran into didn’t make him feel this kind of fear but there’s only one person who really did.
unfortunately, when he takes a turn down a more quiet, less popular street, it’s the last thing he remembers as darkness overtakes him.
It was late, way too late for anyone to be out, and especially for a girl as small as she was. But it wasn’t like she could help it, she had just got off work, and was finally on her way home. She was sleepy and tired and very achey, and all she wanted was to take off her heels and go to sleep. Her eyes were heavy, and she almost tripped on the stairs when she missed a step. (It wouldn’t be the first time she tripped on these stairs though).
She was too tired to notice that someone was following her, (or perhaps lurking in the distance), and whenever she did hear some footsteps and turned around to check, there was no one around, not a soul. The sound of her heels clicking against the floor was typically the only sound breaking the silence of the night at that hour in her neighbourhood, aside from the occasional stray cat fight, which so happened to also be taking place in one alley she passed by, and that didn’t fail to startle the life out of her.
Feeling suddenly alarmed, thanks to the cats, she walked a little faster, clutching tightly at the strap of her purse. The sooner she got home, the better.
Everything is dark. Jaebum’s limbs feel heavy, and rather numb. His eyes open with a bit of difficulty, There’s a stinging bitter taste on the top of his tongue. Looking around, he’s made aware that he can’t move his body as he would like. His arms are tied behind his back, and his legs are tied to the legs of the chair he’s sitting on.
What had happened? All he remembers is going out to meet a friend at a bar nearby the studio and then... not much afterwards. He can’t for the life of him remember what had happened since arriving at the bar. Had he been drugged? This was some sort of kidnapping, he’s sure of that much. By whom though, that was a different question. He supposes he’s lucky, being from a wealthy background, he had never been kidnapped before. But there was always a first for everything. He coughs a bit, his throat dry as the desert, before blinking a few times, trying to get his bearings.
there’s a lot of evil that lurks under the beneath of the surface of seoul. jaehyung isn’t really sure about a lot of it but while he’s going through a few of the underground forums in naver, suddenly he spots a few very interesting posts that have something to do with creepy guy with a similar description found in each of them. intrigued, jaehyung does a little bit of digging through the forums and finds a few interesting pieces.
his name is youngjae, family name is unknown. he’s decently tall but nothing out of the ordinary. he seems small and cute, with a friendly kind of face. but that face is going to trick you heavily into thinking he is some sort of good person. some people report him just wandering around where he lives and others recount when he broken into their home and assaulted them; all while asking to keep a secret or to stop melding in certain affairs.
jaehyung is intrigued but also worried. if someone is going around like this, he needs to be stopped. so, easily, jaehyung puts up a few warnings on a few other more popular blogs as well as on his own website. he tells everyone would where they can find more information and to stay safe, especially since a lot of his clients probably interact with a variety of people throughout the days. the last thing jaehyung wants to do is piss off some weird guy who likes beating people up for no reason.
and yet he fails to follow his own advice, ironically or not. on his way home one nice tuesday evening, he punches him in the code to his house with an armful of groceries and becomes really confused when he walks in, takes off his shoes and sees some weird guy sitting on his couch, furniture all rearranged. blinking, jaehyung looks at the guy, back at his new (and beautiful) door and back at the random.
“... this is your not house...” jaehyung says, voice full of uncertainty and he looks at the other and quietly tries to shimmy his way to the kitchen so he can at least put his milk in the fridge. this was fucking weird.
when things like this happen, wonwoo always finds himself wondering — what did I do to deserve this? was it the torture, the murder and the crime? was it karma for the way he treated mingyu that night he came home with a broken arm? or perhaps the way he snaps at customers with little reason other than that they looked at him questionably? whatever it is, it fucking sucks, because paper cuts are hell. paper cuts are satan’s own special way of saying ‘fuck you, asshole’ and he hates it. he hates that it’s a common occurrence for him, and that his hobbies leave him more susceptible to them than anyone else. all he wants is to read his book in peace.
“fucking— fuck, fuck.” an interesting choice in words, he frowns, as he puts the end of his index finger in his mouth like a child in an attempt to soothe the pain. once satisfied, he removes it, blowing on the cut almost close enough to gently kiss his fingertip. force of habit, he supposes. he’d seen it at school when he was younger — mothers kissing their children’s injuries to magically heal them. wonwoo never had that, so he had to improvise. he had to kiss his own injuries. it never worked, but it never stopped him from trying just in case one day it did. but eventually, he grew up, and now he’s learnt the wonders that make home within a first aid kit. still, for a paper cut, a whole first aid kit seems overkill, even if the pain is excruciating.
quickly patting his pockets reminds him that he’d come out without any money, so he eyes the nearest civilian to him, wandering over with his finger raised. “don’t suppose you could donate some spare change to a man in need of a band-aid, could you?” maybe he won’t, but if that’s the case, it shouldn’t take long to find a high school girl that’ll happily hand over her lunch money just for the honour of getting to talk to him. maybe being popular with mindnumbingly irritating teenage girls has one merit...
staring at the city through the window, brian takes a sip of his coffee, his free hand buried into his hoodie's pocket. it's late at night and, for once, he isn't out there doing something—investigating something, meeting up with hyoseong or even going out with his friends. for once in such a long time, he is comfortable at his apartment, not stressed out with anything and just relaxing.
brian never liked this kind of moments, though. he likes being useful, likes being around and helping on whatever he can. being alone at his place usually means having to fill his head with other stuff not to focus too much on his own life—which was never good for someone who suffered from anxiety disorder.
he swallows the hot drink, feeling warm and cozy. a police siren sounds not that far from his place and he frowns lightly. he wishes this wasn't a normal sound to hear at such an hour, but it's pretty impossible considering how the city is nowadays. turning around to look at his living room, he finds some comfort again. his apartment is finally starting to look like more his place each day, as he had finally decided to put some effort to it.
placing his mug on the coffee table, he sits down on the couch and grabs one of the files he still had there, taking a quick look at them. it's his night off, but his personal life had been so twisted he only had his professional one. and, to be honest, he doesn’t seem bothered about it.
