(no subject)
Title: Apologia Pro Vita Sua (Chapter 22)
Authors: Scorpions angelinaii, murasaki_plum, nemesis_cry
Characters/Pairings: All (kangteuk, shichul, kihae; potential kyuwook, eunkihae, shihanchul, yeshdong, yewook, minry)
Rating: PG-13 to R
Genre: AU, organized crime, postcyberpunk
Summary: In a world where money and crime go hand and hand, survival is not determined by the fittest, but the ones who will fight to live.
Warnings: violence, swearing, sexual situations
Introduction and Chapter 1 | Chapters 2 & 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21
Banner by angelinaii
PV by murasaki_plum
Donghae was a magician; he was a natural at it. He was six when he pulled his first coin from thin air. It was a gift he inherited from his father. He could make the impossible happen. It was easy and simple once he learned how it all worked. All the magic he knew required nimble fingers, a strong hand, and most importantly knowledge in the art of misdirection.
"Craft the world around you, let them see only what you want them to see. Convincing the crowd around you that what you've done was magic, that is the real magic."
Magic, he learned, was the art of deceit and thievery. It was the only work a magician could make in the Bottoms, a way to survive. Wandering through the bustling streets of Judoh during the day, however, was a risk he was more willing to take. Pretending to beg while pulling wallets from pockets, jewelry off socialite's wrists, anything he could get his fingers on without notice was enough to keep him fed. By then his father was gone, and it was less about magic and more about getting by.
He got cocky, too ambitious, and made the mistake of picking the wrong pocket. In the Bottoms, he would have received a severe beating, but let go. Pickpocketing orphans were a dime a dozen, not worth the time wasted. He had the misfortune of being caught in Judoh. Donghae was arrested and placed in the juvenile detention system, trapped in a cage that didn't require a key. There was no way for him to make a grand escape.
The system was less about reform and more a breeding ground. Future thugs and criminals learned how to fill the ranks of the gangs that unofficially ran the city. Long sentences, no parole or release until the prisoners came of age...if the prisoner survived that long. It was survival of the fittest, and the chances of survival for a magician was low. Four years was Donghae's sentence, fourteen years old and thrown to the wolves to see if he would survive it.
Donghae was quick to adapt, he really didn't have much choice in the matter. It was sink or swim. He learned about the tattoos the other inmates wore. He learned that if he didn't have any marks, he was no one, and nobodies were fair game. His first marks were placed on his body by force, a pair of eyes inked into the small of his back to show other inmates he was already someone's property.
Misdirection. Magic. It was how Donghae survived four years. The rapes stopped when word got around that he pulled a shiv out of thin air and cut his attacker. What actually happened was an exaggeration of the truth-the shiv was hidden in his sleeve. No one questioned why he didn't pull a shiv on the guy weeks earlier, and he was grateful since the obvious answer was fashioning a weapon out of a spoon took time.
Donghae became the guy who could get anything, the ever-smiling magician. He amused the guards with his tricks and made friends with thugs twice his size. With those connections, no one would dare to mess with him. When he was to be released he had earned several more tattoos; the marks of a master thief adorned each wrist, the black and red cross on his left arm to show he survived his sentence, and the spider-web on his shoulder.
Like many before him, the reputation he earned while behind bars served him well outside.
Untouchable would've been too much to say, but he was avoided. At first, he figured it was the tattoos on his wrists that bred distrust among the newest Bottoms gangs. They didn't forgive and they didn't forget, but he was hardly important enough to be so memorable.
It wasn't until he glimpsed a shadow trailing him and eyes watching that he remembered what prison taught him and what to do.
He smiled and faced the person following him. "Going my way? You don't have to be so shy."
Of course the guy wasn't alone, and the one to his immediate left began to laugh. "I like him already."
Sharp eyes roved but he knew better than to freeze in fear. That never worked. Instead, he ever so silently felt for the knife in his sleeve.
"Yes. He's got a sense of humor." A smile as the first of the three turned to him. "What gave us away?"
Donghae hummed thoughtfully and pursed his lips together, miming deep thought as he palmed the blade in his hand. "One of you is wearing new boots, and has a heavy step, I'd probably notice him even if he was barefoot...and giggles over there should lighten up on the chains if he's going to follow someone."
The man on the left smirked for some reason. "He's good."
"He's got a shiv ready for us," the youngest threw in happily, grinning.
That got his attention, normally people wouldn't notice the movements he made. Even when they did, it was rare that someone would take him arming himself with such amusement. "Okay, you caught me." He held the blade out in front of him until the light from the streetlamp caught the blade, and then, with a flick of his wrist, the blade was out of their view.
"Now it's in his other hand." The youngest pointed out again.
"No, it isn't!" He gaped at the annoying twerp giving up his secrets.
"Where is it then? You wouldn't put it away." The others laughed, apparently very entertained at Donghae being put on the spot.
"Not to break up the happy home," he retorted with a glare. "But what the hell do you want?"
"World domination," the first man deadpanned. "But I'll take a name in the meantime. I'm Eeteuk."
"Donghae. I guess since you gave your name first, you're the leader."
Eeteuk nodded. "I'd guess that since you have that tattoo on your arm, you spent some time behind bars. For stealing. If you got the marks on your wrists while you were in, I'd also guess you've gotten better at it."
He allowed himself a moment of well-deserved vanity at the comment. "Much better."
Thin lips curved into a smile. "Prove it."
***
"Prove it," he challenged, tilting his head at the man before him.
The scrape of a chair on the cold ground echoed through the room and then the man's wails broke the silence anew: "I swear to God, I didn't do nothing!"
Donghae darted a look over his shoulder and sighed. "Listen, we know you've earned yourself a black mark in the circuit. I just want you to prove to me that Taboo threw you out because she's nuts and not because you've been roughing up every girl you take to her place. We'll do it like a trial, even. Witnesses and all. Just give me something."
Incensed, the man struggled to break free, too stupid or too arrogant to realize what fine a line he was walking. "Fuck off, kid!" he snorted, baring yellowed teeth in an effort to look frightening. The only reason Donghae drew back was the stench. "I don't have to prove nothing to you!"
"That's the thing," Donghae corrected, drawing himself up to full height and moving out of the way. "See that man behind you with the big sword? He's big on proofs."
"So fucking what?" he spat, saliva landing somewhere near Donghae's boots. "You ain't the cops, kid. You can't do anything to me!"
"Are you from Judoh?" Donghae asked, half-curious, half-amused. "I think you are. If you weren't, you'd know that cops don't mean a thing in the Bottoms. We're the law here." He shrugged. "And when the people ask for blood..."
Hankyung's sword sliced through the man's neck in a clean break, blood splashing to the floor and over the other gathered prisoners. The body stayed put for a short second before collapsing, chair and all, to the ground. The head rolled half a foot away. Effective, if a little messy. With the risk of throwing up his lunch for the sight of mangled flesh and severed bone, Donghae simply looked away, reminding himself of the stakes at hand.
"Next?"
A man twice his age was deposited into a chair, hands tied behind him, blood marking the floor with one long stripe. Arrogance was absent from his expression, replaced instead with horror. Donghae almost felt bad.
"Hi. I'm Donghae, but if you're from Judoh, you can call me Officer." He offered a grin to break the ice. "What's your name?"
***
Deceptive silence welcomed them. No heavily armed guards approached as they neared the main house, no cameras switched to follow their progress up the steps, but there could be no doubt that among the two cars following them since they entered Judoh at least one belonged to the H&E.
Boxed in, that was the term and the strategy. Cut off their exit and end what had been started years prior, because while the H&E wasn't exceptionally efficient, it was opportunistic. Eeteuk knew the drill, he'd been raised on such attempts and such poor excuses for defensive action. Even white flags were shot through, if the dons felt it was necessary. It was just as well, he supposed, that he hadn't bothered with one.
"How many do you count?" he asked, lips barely moving.
"Twenty my side, Sungmin?" Kangin muttered, not sparing a glance in his direction.
"Fifteen," Sungmin peered up to the roof and nodded. "And Henry's sighted eight more behind us."
Eeteuk clenched his jaw, fighting to appear as relaxed as possible. As with a pack of rabid dogs, attitude was half the battle. "Only that? They're not expecting us," he mused.
"Hope their keepers are around," Kangin murmured, shadowing his steps. "Or this is going to get very ugly very fast."
Massive front doors opened as if on cue, parting to show another added twenty armed men. Eeteuk revised his view.
"Now, now, is this how you greet all of your visitors?" Eeteuk spoke into the crowd, approaching even as men reached for their holsters. "I'm here to speak with your boss. Check us if you will."
"You think they won't?" a disembodied voice sounded from within, the effect more ridiculous than frightening. "It's not like you to walk into Judoh without weapons, is it, Eeteuk? Search them!"
Kangin stepped forward first, instinct too strong to put aside.
"Waste time, if you must," Eeteuk shrugged. "How much money have you lost since branching out into the organ business, Choi?"
The voice laughed. "You seem to be under the impression that organs are still profitable. We've made ample progress on your father's investments in the bionic field, you would be proud."
Bastard, he thought. How dare he speak of his father as if he knew anything, as if he had any right. Fists clenched, Eeteuk fought to contain his disdain for these people, hate eating him up inside.
"If they're not profitable, then you've got more serious issues then I thought." A thug came to check him for guns, Kangin's eyes on him. "I'd have to wonder why you're wasting your money on a business that makes no profit."
"That is a good question, however, I doubt you would risk your life on such a menial one. Considering an attempt at any market wouldn't make someone this bold. Unless I am giving you too much credit... by all means, correct."
"Your business made it into my turf. Normally, I imagine you wouldn't give less of a shit about that, but you seem to be sharing the same problem here in Judoh. It's regrettable what happened to that girl a few nights ago, isn't it?"
"I heard, indeed it is unfortunate. However, that issue will be dealt with. Was that all?"
"Since I'm talking to thin air, yes," Eeteuk snapped, annoyed by the smoke and mirrors facade. "You must be happy to be losing people to a killer you created. I'm sure the newspapers will be happy to hear it." And if it sounded a threat, well, that wasn't far from the truth.
"You mean our newspapers acting off of a tip from an informant who on record is considered dead. Let's not correct that oversight today, shall we?"
There were a million and one ways Kyuhyun could insert information into the Judoh press without being detected until after publication, but to tell the H&E about it would have been beyond stupid. Eeteuk swallowed his ire, teeth on edge from the sight of what was rightfully his own now in the hands of usurpers.
"Yes, if I were you, I too would be comforting myself in the knowledge that the finest of Judoh's upper class depend on your printing presses for their information. For all your improvements in the bionic field, seems you have a long way to go yet before providing cybernet access to your citizens."
"You would do best to go back the way you came." the voice asserted, the sound retreating from its muffled hiding place.
"Until we meet again." Eeteuk nodded, turning his back away from the men that surrounded them in the foyer. They wouldn't dare try to kill them inside the main house, blood on the insured rugs and high end artwork was unacceptable. He murmured under his breath as the front door opened for them: "Be ready."
Broad daylight bathed the steps in a blinding glare.
"Deal with them," one of the men ordered once they had stepped past the threshold, predictable if poorly timed.
Every time he came into Judoh, the H&E thought they had the upper hand. Every time, they failed. Eeteuk shot a look towards the sky. Maybe this time.
As Kangin stepped in front of him and reached for the blades strapped to his wrists, Eeteuk knew Henry would make his full presence known. The weapons they left behind would come with him. What he didn't expect, however, was the line of explosions that appeared from beyond the manicured hedges.
For a brief moment Eeteuk's mind held on to the belief that it was another of Ryeowook's surprises. When he caught sight of red-hair through the rising smoke, his resolve and anger surged through his veins.
"Show them to never waste my time." He ordered as a black duffle landed at his feet.
The sound of charges detonating into a flash of exploding tires and clanking metal, glass popping onto the sidewalk drowned out the screams and it was just as well. Kangin threw him an automatic with one hand, already aiming his other at a pair of thugs seeking to block their exit. Henry's sword cut a clean line through both, severing heads and hands in what might have been a symbolic move. He'd have ask Sungmin later, when the younger man wasn't engaged in shooting and stabbing the hell out of the goons sent out to finish them.
He contributed a few bullets of his own, more than he would have usually, for once not shying away from the sound of battle. His family had come under threat and the H&E was as good a scapegoat as any. For once, he allowed himself to forget that without him there wouldn't be a family.
It wasn't as if there could be one without Ryeowook.
Authors: Scorpions angelinaii, murasaki_plum, nemesis_cry
Characters/Pairings: All (kangteuk, shichul, kihae; potential kyuwook, eunkihae, shihanchul, yeshdong, yewook, minry)
Rating: PG-13 to R
Genre: AU, organized crime, postcyberpunk
Summary: In a world where money and crime go hand and hand, survival is not determined by the fittest, but the ones who will fight to live.
Warnings: violence, swearing, sexual situations
Introduction and Chapter 1 | Chapters 2 & 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21
Banner by angelinaii
PV by murasaki_plum
Donghae was a magician; he was a natural at it. He was six when he pulled his first coin from thin air. It was a gift he inherited from his father. He could make the impossible happen. It was easy and simple once he learned how it all worked. All the magic he knew required nimble fingers, a strong hand, and most importantly knowledge in the art of misdirection.
"Craft the world around you, let them see only what you want them to see. Convincing the crowd around you that what you've done was magic, that is the real magic."
Magic, he learned, was the art of deceit and thievery. It was the only work a magician could make in the Bottoms, a way to survive. Wandering through the bustling streets of Judoh during the day, however, was a risk he was more willing to take. Pretending to beg while pulling wallets from pockets, jewelry off socialite's wrists, anything he could get his fingers on without notice was enough to keep him fed. By then his father was gone, and it was less about magic and more about getting by.
He got cocky, too ambitious, and made the mistake of picking the wrong pocket. In the Bottoms, he would have received a severe beating, but let go. Pickpocketing orphans were a dime a dozen, not worth the time wasted. He had the misfortune of being caught in Judoh. Donghae was arrested and placed in the juvenile detention system, trapped in a cage that didn't require a key. There was no way for him to make a grand escape.
The system was less about reform and more a breeding ground. Future thugs and criminals learned how to fill the ranks of the gangs that unofficially ran the city. Long sentences, no parole or release until the prisoners came of age...if the prisoner survived that long. It was survival of the fittest, and the chances of survival for a magician was low. Four years was Donghae's sentence, fourteen years old and thrown to the wolves to see if he would survive it.
Donghae was quick to adapt, he really didn't have much choice in the matter. It was sink or swim. He learned about the tattoos the other inmates wore. He learned that if he didn't have any marks, he was no one, and nobodies were fair game. His first marks were placed on his body by force, a pair of eyes inked into the small of his back to show other inmates he was already someone's property.
Misdirection. Magic. It was how Donghae survived four years. The rapes stopped when word got around that he pulled a shiv out of thin air and cut his attacker. What actually happened was an exaggeration of the truth-the shiv was hidden in his sleeve. No one questioned why he didn't pull a shiv on the guy weeks earlier, and he was grateful since the obvious answer was fashioning a weapon out of a spoon took time.
Donghae became the guy who could get anything, the ever-smiling magician. He amused the guards with his tricks and made friends with thugs twice his size. With those connections, no one would dare to mess with him. When he was to be released he had earned several more tattoos; the marks of a master thief adorned each wrist, the black and red cross on his left arm to show he survived his sentence, and the spider-web on his shoulder.
Like many before him, the reputation he earned while behind bars served him well outside.
Untouchable would've been too much to say, but he was avoided. At first, he figured it was the tattoos on his wrists that bred distrust among the newest Bottoms gangs. They didn't forgive and they didn't forget, but he was hardly important enough to be so memorable.
It wasn't until he glimpsed a shadow trailing him and eyes watching that he remembered what prison taught him and what to do.
He smiled and faced the person following him. "Going my way? You don't have to be so shy."
Of course the guy wasn't alone, and the one to his immediate left began to laugh. "I like him already."
Sharp eyes roved but he knew better than to freeze in fear. That never worked. Instead, he ever so silently felt for the knife in his sleeve.
"Yes. He's got a sense of humor." A smile as the first of the three turned to him. "What gave us away?"
Donghae hummed thoughtfully and pursed his lips together, miming deep thought as he palmed the blade in his hand. "One of you is wearing new boots, and has a heavy step, I'd probably notice him even if he was barefoot...and giggles over there should lighten up on the chains if he's going to follow someone."
The man on the left smirked for some reason. "He's good."
"He's got a shiv ready for us," the youngest threw in happily, grinning.
That got his attention, normally people wouldn't notice the movements he made. Even when they did, it was rare that someone would take him arming himself with such amusement. "Okay, you caught me." He held the blade out in front of him until the light from the streetlamp caught the blade, and then, with a flick of his wrist, the blade was out of their view.
"Now it's in his other hand." The youngest pointed out again.
"No, it isn't!" He gaped at the annoying twerp giving up his secrets.
"Where is it then? You wouldn't put it away." The others laughed, apparently very entertained at Donghae being put on the spot.
"Not to break up the happy home," he retorted with a glare. "But what the hell do you want?"
"World domination," the first man deadpanned. "But I'll take a name in the meantime. I'm Eeteuk."
"Donghae. I guess since you gave your name first, you're the leader."
Eeteuk nodded. "I'd guess that since you have that tattoo on your arm, you spent some time behind bars. For stealing. If you got the marks on your wrists while you were in, I'd also guess you've gotten better at it."
He allowed himself a moment of well-deserved vanity at the comment. "Much better."
Thin lips curved into a smile. "Prove it."
***
"Prove it," he challenged, tilting his head at the man before him.
The scrape of a chair on the cold ground echoed through the room and then the man's wails broke the silence anew: "I swear to God, I didn't do nothing!"
Donghae darted a look over his shoulder and sighed. "Listen, we know you've earned yourself a black mark in the circuit. I just want you to prove to me that Taboo threw you out because she's nuts and not because you've been roughing up every girl you take to her place. We'll do it like a trial, even. Witnesses and all. Just give me something."
Incensed, the man struggled to break free, too stupid or too arrogant to realize what fine a line he was walking. "Fuck off, kid!" he snorted, baring yellowed teeth in an effort to look frightening. The only reason Donghae drew back was the stench. "I don't have to prove nothing to you!"
"That's the thing," Donghae corrected, drawing himself up to full height and moving out of the way. "See that man behind you with the big sword? He's big on proofs."
"So fucking what?" he spat, saliva landing somewhere near Donghae's boots. "You ain't the cops, kid. You can't do anything to me!"
"Are you from Judoh?" Donghae asked, half-curious, half-amused. "I think you are. If you weren't, you'd know that cops don't mean a thing in the Bottoms. We're the law here." He shrugged. "And when the people ask for blood..."
Hankyung's sword sliced through the man's neck in a clean break, blood splashing to the floor and over the other gathered prisoners. The body stayed put for a short second before collapsing, chair and all, to the ground. The head rolled half a foot away. Effective, if a little messy. With the risk of throwing up his lunch for the sight of mangled flesh and severed bone, Donghae simply looked away, reminding himself of the stakes at hand.
"Next?"
A man twice his age was deposited into a chair, hands tied behind him, blood marking the floor with one long stripe. Arrogance was absent from his expression, replaced instead with horror. Donghae almost felt bad.
"Hi. I'm Donghae, but if you're from Judoh, you can call me Officer." He offered a grin to break the ice. "What's your name?"
***
Deceptive silence welcomed them. No heavily armed guards approached as they neared the main house, no cameras switched to follow their progress up the steps, but there could be no doubt that among the two cars following them since they entered Judoh at least one belonged to the H&E.
Boxed in, that was the term and the strategy. Cut off their exit and end what had been started years prior, because while the H&E wasn't exceptionally efficient, it was opportunistic. Eeteuk knew the drill, he'd been raised on such attempts and such poor excuses for defensive action. Even white flags were shot through, if the dons felt it was necessary. It was just as well, he supposed, that he hadn't bothered with one.
"How many do you count?" he asked, lips barely moving.
"Twenty my side, Sungmin?" Kangin muttered, not sparing a glance in his direction.
"Fifteen," Sungmin peered up to the roof and nodded. "And Henry's sighted eight more behind us."
Eeteuk clenched his jaw, fighting to appear as relaxed as possible. As with a pack of rabid dogs, attitude was half the battle. "Only that? They're not expecting us," he mused.
"Hope their keepers are around," Kangin murmured, shadowing his steps. "Or this is going to get very ugly very fast."
Massive front doors opened as if on cue, parting to show another added twenty armed men. Eeteuk revised his view.
"Now, now, is this how you greet all of your visitors?" Eeteuk spoke into the crowd, approaching even as men reached for their holsters. "I'm here to speak with your boss. Check us if you will."
"You think they won't?" a disembodied voice sounded from within, the effect more ridiculous than frightening. "It's not like you to walk into Judoh without weapons, is it, Eeteuk? Search them!"
Kangin stepped forward first, instinct too strong to put aside.
"Waste time, if you must," Eeteuk shrugged. "How much money have you lost since branching out into the organ business, Choi?"
The voice laughed. "You seem to be under the impression that organs are still profitable. We've made ample progress on your father's investments in the bionic field, you would be proud."
Bastard, he thought. How dare he speak of his father as if he knew anything, as if he had any right. Fists clenched, Eeteuk fought to contain his disdain for these people, hate eating him up inside.
"If they're not profitable, then you've got more serious issues then I thought." A thug came to check him for guns, Kangin's eyes on him. "I'd have to wonder why you're wasting your money on a business that makes no profit."
"That is a good question, however, I doubt you would risk your life on such a menial one. Considering an attempt at any market wouldn't make someone this bold. Unless I am giving you too much credit... by all means, correct."
"Your business made it into my turf. Normally, I imagine you wouldn't give less of a shit about that, but you seem to be sharing the same problem here in Judoh. It's regrettable what happened to that girl a few nights ago, isn't it?"
"I heard, indeed it is unfortunate. However, that issue will be dealt with. Was that all?"
"Since I'm talking to thin air, yes," Eeteuk snapped, annoyed by the smoke and mirrors facade. "You must be happy to be losing people to a killer you created. I'm sure the newspapers will be happy to hear it." And if it sounded a threat, well, that wasn't far from the truth.
"You mean our newspapers acting off of a tip from an informant who on record is considered dead. Let's not correct that oversight today, shall we?"
There were a million and one ways Kyuhyun could insert information into the Judoh press without being detected until after publication, but to tell the H&E about it would have been beyond stupid. Eeteuk swallowed his ire, teeth on edge from the sight of what was rightfully his own now in the hands of usurpers.
"Yes, if I were you, I too would be comforting myself in the knowledge that the finest of Judoh's upper class depend on your printing presses for their information. For all your improvements in the bionic field, seems you have a long way to go yet before providing cybernet access to your citizens."
"You would do best to go back the way you came." the voice asserted, the sound retreating from its muffled hiding place.
"Until we meet again." Eeteuk nodded, turning his back away from the men that surrounded them in the foyer. They wouldn't dare try to kill them inside the main house, blood on the insured rugs and high end artwork was unacceptable. He murmured under his breath as the front door opened for them: "Be ready."
Broad daylight bathed the steps in a blinding glare.
"Deal with them," one of the men ordered once they had stepped past the threshold, predictable if poorly timed.
Every time he came into Judoh, the H&E thought they had the upper hand. Every time, they failed. Eeteuk shot a look towards the sky. Maybe this time.
As Kangin stepped in front of him and reached for the blades strapped to his wrists, Eeteuk knew Henry would make his full presence known. The weapons they left behind would come with him. What he didn't expect, however, was the line of explosions that appeared from beyond the manicured hedges.
For a brief moment Eeteuk's mind held on to the belief that it was another of Ryeowook's surprises. When he caught sight of red-hair through the rising smoke, his resolve and anger surged through his veins.
"Show them to never waste my time." He ordered as a black duffle landed at his feet.
The sound of charges detonating into a flash of exploding tires and clanking metal, glass popping onto the sidewalk drowned out the screams and it was just as well. Kangin threw him an automatic with one hand, already aiming his other at a pair of thugs seeking to block their exit. Henry's sword cut a clean line through both, severing heads and hands in what might have been a symbolic move. He'd have ask Sungmin later, when the younger man wasn't engaged in shooting and stabbing the hell out of the goons sent out to finish them.
He contributed a few bullets of his own, more than he would have usually, for once not shying away from the sound of battle. His family had come under threat and the H&E was as good a scapegoat as any. For once, he allowed himself to forget that without him there wouldn't be a family.
It wasn't as if there could be one without Ryeowook.