──  ❝ 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑬」

❝ それは簡単な選択です ;
. THAT'S EASY PICKING ❞

"SHE'S GONNA GET HERSELF KILLED, MESSING WITH THE STUPID FUCKING CLAN." Yoongi hadn't been able to get over it. Of course he hadn't. He had tried so desperately to warn her against getting herself involved with them. There was no reason for her to take a job with them. They weren't strapped for cash or anything. They could save up for a vacation on their own.

Hoseok sat across from Yoongi at a table so small their knees touched. He was far too busy eating his bulgogi to entirely pay attention to whatever he was going on about. He had said something about Karma getting herself involved with the Bulgae Clan and kept up from there. "Well, you know her, she doesn't like to be told what to do." He wasn't close to Karma even to the slightest degree. The woman loathed him for reasons he would never understand. But beyond that, Karma was a stubborn bitch.

"Exactly! So why fucking work for someone?" It wasn't clicking. Karma despised having to take orders. She was untamable, unruly, defiant. She wasn't truly loyal to anyone but herself, not even to Yoongi.

Yoongi loved her too much to watch her go down such a path of destruction. That's how he ended up. Roped in their shit until he was drowning in it. He was left with nothing, thrown out onto the street with not a cent to his name. Karma with inevitably end the same way, or worse, she'll become the very thing he hated, a Bulgae.

Hoseok dragged his tongue over his lips quickly. "Does she know your history with them? 'Cause if she does, that's a pretty bitchy move on her part." Now, personally, Hoseok couldn't care less about whatever weird relationship drama they were going through. He had originally come to simply pick up a few watches and other jewelry, but here he was, eating bulgogi while Yoongi rants. Fair trade in his opinion.

Yoongi shook his head, brushing his fingers through his hair which he had left the house with uncombed. He wouldn't tell Karma shit about his time with the Bulgae. It was irrelevant to any conversation they've ever had to have. Yoongi simply wanted to keep the past in the past and keep Karma from trusting any one of those fucking dogs, much less the dog tamer.

But maybe in order to protect her, he would have to expose that part of himself.

Hoseok shrugged. It was unlikely Yoongi would say anything about it, about his vendetta again the gang and their reigning King. "She's the smartest woman -hell, person we know. If she's getting herself into this, she probably has a way out. Even if she didn't, God knows you're not gonna jump ship. You've got your head shoved too far up her ass." Yoongi could deny it all he wanted but they both knew how he felt about Karma. They were fucking soulmates, even if they didn't like each other at times. Sure they weren't gonna settle down and make some picture-perfect, nuclear family. God himself fears for the world if they ever have children.

But Hoseok was right. Yoongi simply had to trust that Karma knew that she was doing, what she was getting herself into.

He didn't.

-

"Please! Puh-please, dear Lord! I-I...beg you" Desperate pleas for mercy ring out but the King remains unaffected by his pleas. His eyes watch the scene in front of him, the man hanging from the ceiling on a chain. His wrists and bruised, probably broken as it supports the weight of his entire body. He's worn down, beaten and bloodied from days of abuse, but he had just enough energy to pull his legs up, desperately trying to keep them from getting torn up and chewed before being spit out on the other end of the woodchipper that roars beneath him.

Between his long fingers, decorated with silver and white gold rings, he holds a thick Cuban cigar. Now, he wasn't a big smoker, but the occasional cigar from time to time didn't hurt too much. In fact, it was the only thing keeping him calm right now. Like a pinch to stop a fuse.

The air smells metallic in this open, empty warehouse. Old, dried blood splattered against the concrete walls and floor, faded from the numerous failed attempts to clean the blood up. The King finds the smell comforting in a way. He's been surrounded by it all his life and he's grown accustomed to it over the years.

"Tell me where the diamond is and maybe I'll let you keep your feet." The King tells him over the roar of the machine that threatens to take the man's ability to walk forever. His eyes are cold, unforgiving of the man who faces his imminent demise before him. In his opinion, he was being far too lax with the man.

The man weeps helplessly. "I don't know! I don't know! Please! I...I was only hired to take it and hand it off to some random man. Have mercy!" His strength was fading from his body. He couldn't hold his legs up for much longer. He prayed out for God, but no god was here to save him from his fate. He brought this upon himself. Everyone knew better than to steal from The King, not unless you wanted your body to wash up on the shores of the Han.

What was stolen from him? His Blood Diamond. One of the very few red diamonds that are known to exist and the biggest red diamond in the world (which wasn't a hard feat seeing as there are less than thirty of the rare diamonds in the world). It was a prized possession, not only was it expensive, being over a million dollars per carat, but a family heirloom.

So when it was stolen while being transferred from Daegu where he was born and raised, to Seoul, he was lived. It's already been nearly two weeks. It could be out of the country, even the continent by now, but The King would leave no stone unturned until he found it. And whoever was responsible would have their severed heads presented to him on a silver platter.

He took a drag of his cigar, lazily letting it sit between his lips before letting the smoke whisper away in the stale air. He could feel his phone buzz in the pocket of his slacks and carelessly, he slipped his hand into the opening and took it out.

'She'll get bungeoppang with you'

Oh, how wonderful.

The King shoved the device away and glanced to his side to where his right-hand stands. His posture is pen straight, shoulders back and square with his hands clasped behind his back. His face was a blank slate, not even a twinkle of sympathy sparkles within his dark eyes.

"What do you think, Namjoon? Should we let him keep his feet?" The King often asked for the opinion of his hand. That's what he was there for after all. The tall man looked to his boss with a raised brow. "Whatever you believe is right, sir."

He lets out a sigh and his eyes trail off to the man that stands directly beside the woodchipper. He wore bright yellow headphones that ruffles his deep, chocolate hair to protect his ears, standing so close to the machine without some sort of protection would damage his hearing. The King makes a cutting motion through the air. "Cut it off, Jimin."

The brunette hit the off button and slowly, the loud motor of the machine died into silence. The man let out an audible sigh of relief, but his torture is far from over. Jimin slid his headphones off and around his neck. "What would you like us to do with him?" He referred to himself and Jungkook, the man who stood to the far back. He was the one who had strung the man up above the woodchipper. He had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves to his black button-up, the tight shirt hugging his arms and chest.

The King waved his hand dismissively as he turned on the heels of his leather shoes. "Cut his feet off with the hacksaw. Make it as painful as possible without killing him." The man shrieks at The King's command and struggles against his shackles. His screams are the last thing he hears as he and Namjoon leave the warehouse and the door is slammed shut behind them.

It's pouring outside, the sound of the rain striking the ground replaces the screams of the man left to the devices of his captors. The King would probably have the boys throw him out into an alleyway when they were done, hopefully word would get back to his bosses that he was coming for them and not a single one would be getting away with this.

"I have a dinner date to get to," Taehyung tells his most trusted man as he opened up an umbrella for his boss. The car was already running, waiting for their departure from the warehouse. Namjoon held the umbrella over the two of them as they step out into the rain. They pitter against the surface of the umbrella, sliding off of the sides and dropping back to the ground as their final destination.

His hand grasped the handle of the umbrella tightly, his thick lips pursing with unease. The King had told him about the mysterious woman he had met at The Playground, a professional thief who had stolen from Chanwoo, the lowly pimp who played ringmaster for the absolute circus of a prostitution ring down there. Completely disregarding how severely incompetent he was at his job, Namjoon was wary of this woman. Karma. What kind of sick and twisted shit is that?

"Are you sure you can trust her, Taehyung?" Namjoon wasn't normally one to question the decisions of his boss. That wasn't his job to question, it was his job to execute whatever he so well pleased. He reached out and opened the back door for him. "She could be with them."

The King, Taehyung, cocked an arched brow at him. "I wouldn't trust her with getting my dry cleaning, much less a jewel worth more than most people's livelihoods. But I need to fight fire with fire. And if she ends up being one of them- well," the corner of his downturned lips twitched subtly, a smile threatening to break out, "that's just easy picking."

*.✧ Kᴀʏs Eɴᴅɪɴɢ Nᴏᴛᴇs

I'm working on Chapter 17 I think and already we've come such a long way. I am really proud of this book so far, let's just hope that it stays that way.

Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon are here! I'm so excited. I hope I get to include them a lot over the course of this book.

Thank you all for reading. I hope you guys enjoyed and I wish you all a wonderful day/night.

사랑해

~Kay (ノ^_^)ノ