I sincerely knew in my heart it wouldn't be the last time I'll be setting foot in that Victorian themed building. I gave the underground parking lot another curious glance, its walls filled with bizarre graffiti, as I let one of Chanyeol's men put a black cloth over my head to block my vision– So that I'll never find this place on my own. The guy accidentally bumped my nose in the process and he mumbled an embarrassed, "Sorry," afterwards. They didn't have to tie my wrists as I was peculiarly cooperative. It's not that I enjoy being held captive. It's just that, I value my life and I don't want a bullet to my head just because I was being a little stubborn.

A vehicle stopped in front of us and I heard a car door open. "Here," the one beside me said before he held me by the shoulders, guiding me inside whatever vehicle it may be. "Okay, careful," he said again, lowering my head so I do not bump it on the roof. I'm slightly surprised I'm not being dragged violently here.

Finally, I am seated on a leather-covered backseat, the inside of this unknown vehicle smelling strongly of e-cigarette smoke, the soda-flavored one. I felt another person sit on my left side, making me flinch a little. Just because I'm not screaming for help right now doesn't mean I am very comfortable about this kidnapping event that is happening. I swallowed, my throat still dry from all the stress of this day, and squeezed my eyes shut as I felt the car drive away. I cannot see anything through this black cloth on my face but I do know the exact moment we emerged from the underground parking lot and into the daylight as the sun's rays seeped through the black cloth. The drive isn't bumpy so I guess we are driving on cemented land.

Before I could concentrate some more on my surroundings and my remaining senses, the guy next to me spoke again. He's the same person who put the cloth over my face judging from the sameness of his voice. "Your phone," he said and I felt a cold device touch my hand. Oh god, yes. How could I forget about my freaking phone? "The battery died last night, and I think your Dad called you five times before that. He must be awfully worried."

"O-oh," I can't help but mutter, taking my phone back. "T-Thanks."

He cleared his throat. "So sorry about the chloroform thing," he said and it took me a few long seconds to remember the conversation I overheard just as I was waking up this morning in that dark room. "You really looked like you were about to start screaming and give away our location, and I just kinda panicked and–"

"Haechan," I said, recalling his name.

There was a pause, silence filling the entire car. "W-What–"

"It's your name..." then I tilted my head to one side, trying to think if I'm remembering correctly. "Isn't it?"

Then the guy beside me laughed loudly, completely amused. "Oh! You're good!" he exclaimed and the awe was very evident in his voice. "Yeah, I'm Haechan. Nice to meet– OH GOD! I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO SAY THAT!"

I heard someone from the front of the car utter a curse and another throw a fit of laughter. So there's probably four of us in total in this vehicle.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Haechan continued to curse beside me, probably smacking his forehead from all the slapping noise I am hearing. "Boss will definitely kill me! Fuck! Fuck my fucking life! I'm so fucking stupid!"

"Definitely agree with that last sentence, Haechan," another guy said, his cheerful voice coming from the driver's side of the vehicle. "But Boss will probably not kill you, since he's confident Baekhyun's going to work with us anyway. There's no point hiding your identity now."

Chanyeol's confident about recruiting me, huh? Well. Probably. He has all the right to feel so, considering he basically holds my life in his hands right now.

"Still..." Haechan groaned. "How will he give me more difficult missions if I keep messing up the simplest things? Tell me, huh? Tell me, Mark!"

And there goes another name. Not that first names mean anything right now when I don't even know where in the world I am already.

"That's not even for me to decide!" the 'Mark' guy replied, his voice laced with amusement. "And stop spilling names! Next time, you might give out our headquarters location and when that happens, I'm going to beat you up myself."

"Okay, fine! FINE!" Haechan is now obviously distressed about his lack of filter. Are underground group members really this carefree and talkative? When I think about big, dangerous criminals who sell illegal firearms, this type of mood and aura aren't really what I am expecting to have. It's almost like listening to your friends bicker. I nearly feel like relaxing in this unending car ride.

"What were you telling Baekhyun anyway?" Mark changed the topic, sounding a little curious.

It felt like Haechan straightened up beside me. "Oh, well, I was apologizing about making him sleep with chloroform last night," he said. "It was surely uncalled for."

"Yeah, and because of that, Taeil was pissed since no 'expert hands' got to treat his injuries," Mark agreed.

I felt a light pat on my shoulder. "Really sorry, dude," Haechan repeated, this time talking to me. "But on the bright side, you get to rest, right? You probably don't get that much sleep considering you're a medical intern, hehe."

I forced a little smile though they couldn't see me. "It's fine," I said in a small voice. I don't feel like disagreeing with him anyway. "Um... You told me my father called?" I asked instead, just to get some information.

"Yeah, numerous times, I think," Haechan said. "I didn't want to talk to him and tell him we're kidnapping you so I just ignored them. Do you think he'll be worried?"

"Probably," I shrugged. "But he's used to me not answering his calls and not going home every night so I guess he wouldn't be that worried." As someone who works in a hospital setting, spending your nights sleeping on a random steel chair by the hallways is a common occurrence. You just try to find anywhere to rest and gain some energy back before you start managing and taking care of your patients again. It's how our lives go about these days and my father understands that immensely. Only this time, his understanding can be a little out of place.

Haechan audibly sighed. "I'm relieved," he breathed. "I don't like dealing with fathers and their protectiveness. They could be really difficult sometimes."

"You sound like you deal with kidnapping more frequently than I am giving you credit for," I said.

"Oh no, no no," Haechan disagreed rather strongly. "Kidnapping is definitely not in my job description, Baekhyun."

For some reason, I cannot help but laugh a little. "You know what? I kind of agree. You are way too friendly to befit a kidnapper."

"RIGHT?" Haechan beamed and I felt him grab my wrist to high five me. "I told my colleagues I'm too friendly to be dealing with all the violence in this line of work. I belong inside the headquarters, helping out Boss and entertaining guests."

"You do love your boss, huh?" I pointed out. "Does he treat you well?"

"Oh, he does," he answered enthusiastically. "He respects each and everyone of his employees and he never breaks a promise. When Boss tells you he'll take care of you, I swear to you, he's not even a bit lying. That's why I like working here, because there are a lot of benefits and I am under good leadership." Haechan's voice sounds like he's talking about his favorite KPop idol. He sounds so devoted and so loyal.

However, the images from last night's occurrence crossed my mind for a split second. I felt my back stiffen and my hands turn a little cold. "Even though... you hurt people?" I asked in a quiet voice.

There was a long pause from Haechan and I think for the first time today, he's really thinking about what to say next. No one spoke for a whole minute before Haechan finally cleared his throat and said, "Yes," he firmly said. "Even if it means killing people." 

It was chilling how they dropped me off directly in front of our house. I stood there outside, noticing our restaurant is still closed for today so I guess it's not ten in the morning yet. I removed the cloth from my head just in time to see a black Masserati speed off, the logo of Chanyeol's signet ring embossed in an area where a plate number should be placed. I am utterly relieved to be finally out of their company, but at the same time, worried about what the future days ahead will bring.

I took one step towards our home before stopping on my tracks, thinking about what I should do– What a completely sane person should do. I just came from a kidnapping incident. Why am I walking back towards my home calmly like I did not just evade death by a millimeter?

With a trembling intake of breath, I turned on my heel and jogged towards the nearest police station. It's located in a small, stout building two blocks away from our house. Nobody really visits the station for serious matters like kidnapping and ever since I was young, it was more like a place where you ask for help when you're missing a cat or a lightbulb from your front porches. It's a place where elderly people visit to chat with younger police officers about daily lives and activities. I didn't really care much for the men in uniforms before. But it feels different now, since I know someone who works there.

Kim Jongdae, my childhood friend, sits on his desk at the far right corner of the station, reading a martial arts magazine with his legs propped on the table. He is surrounded by this noisy chithatting of fellow officers who didn't even spare me a second glance when I walked into the station. Most of them are buried in paper works while others sit around a small pantry table, drinking coffee and snacking on some dried squid. Jongdae is a father of one who just got married last year to a preschool teacher. And he's one of my closest friends and the only person I can trust with this newly found information I have.

Without batting an eye or even exchanging pleasantries with the other officers, I marched my way towards my friend's desk and slammed my hands on his desk. "JESUS CHRIST!" Kim Jongdae screams like a little girl. "What the hell is wrong with you, Byun Baekhyun?!" He straightened up almost abruptly, pulling onto his tie and fixing his all-black uniform as he glared at me.

"I've been kidnapped," I said through gritted teeth. "I've been kidnapped, Jongdae."

"What?" he frowned. "You? Kidnapped?"

"Yes," I slowly sat on the chair opposite his desk, feeling some type of tiredness seep into my system. "Last night... I-I've been taken by these men with guns... And... I just got home this morning." Even for me, my story sounds so weak and uneventful. It almost felt made up. 'Men with guns'doesn't sit well with being able to 'just go home this morning'.

Dead. That's what fits that sentence.

But then again, this is my friend. He will believe me. He has to.

The martial arts magazine he was holding was completely forgotten as he leaned on his desk to give me a closer look. The fear and the bewilderment must be pretty obvious on my face because Jongdae's demeanor immediately changed to that of a concerned friend. "Man, are you serious?" he breathed, reaching for my shoulder. "Are you okay, Baek? Did they hurt you?"

"Actually... no..." I murmured. "But they are an underground group... they sell things... in the blackmarket," I started to explain, grabbing onto my auburn locks as I tried to clear my head. Kim Jongdae moved to grab his pen and some paper, listening to what I'm about to say. "They consist of men, all appearing like they're in their twenties... and their boss... he's tall, with that silver colored hair..."

"Okay," Jongdae continued to write. "What else? Did you hear any names? See any insignia that may help recognize them?"

I looked him straight in the eyes. "An insignia, yes. I wouldn't miss it because it's everywhere," I breathed, my voice getting a little higher. "It's a phoenix– A flying phoenix– A-And a circle of thorns and a crown on top–" And then I stopped mid sentence because Kim Jongdae suddenly looked like he just saw a ghost. His face turned pale, his eyes widening, and his lips parting open in shock. And fear.

"Oh god, Byun Baekhyun," he breathed before suddenly grabbing my wrist, pulling me to my feet. He quickly guided me towards the back of the police station, passed a set of double doors that led to a small clearing at the back, away from other ears and peering eyes in the station. When we stopped, Jongdae let go of my wrist before he started pacing, hand running through his hair before looking at me again. "That's the NNG group," he said, not wasting breath. "You just got kidnapped by the biggest firearms smugglers in the whole continent."

"Y-You–" I felt my breath hitch. "You know them?"

"Yes," he said. "And they're untouchable, Baekhyun. The police force– hell– even the government knows of their existence."

To be perfectly honest, I've never seen Jongdae this scared before, and that fact makes my skin crawl even more. "What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, my voice weakening. "What do you mean they're untouchable?"

My friend grabbed my arm, pulling me to him so no one else could hear us. "They are the biggest suppliers of firearms in the country, Baek," he whispered, voice pressured. "They supply private organizations, companies, associations, and even the government. They supply us guns, grenades, and tanks... The government protects their existence. And so we..." he seemed to not be able to complete his sentence. "W-We... as police officers... we protect them, too."

"No..." I shook my head, refusing to believe what he was telling me. "That cannot be true. No one could be that powerful–"

"The United States is after them, actually," Jongdae continued to explain. "But they have Russia to back them up and even China's willing to fight with them if ever things go south. They are that powerful. The family that runs that organization basically has this continent in its grasp. Losing them would be losing ninety percent of our defense."

I stared at Kim Jongdae and felt a chill run down my spine. After meeting their young Boss and the other members of the NNG group, I sincerely believed they were just a bunch of criminals who found luck selling smuggled guns. But here is my best friend practically telling me I'm wrong and that there is no reason to feel lax around them. They are people who are probably being chased by death every second of their lives and they are people who decide death for other people, too.

And I just met their freaking Boss. I just came face to face with the man who has the continent to his disposal.

If I refused Chanyeol's absurd offer, there would be no reason keeping me alive now.

Really. What have I gotten myself into? 

Kim Jongdae filled me in with too much information about the NNG group yesterday that I found myself zoning out mid conversation. I cannot focus because all I can think about was my survival, my family's well-being, Chanyeol's face when he said he'd find me and his freaking offer and how he's so sure I can't say no to him. It's frightening but at the same time angering knowing there is too much power concentrated in a very small percentage of individuals.

A family. Jongdae said NNG is being run by a family.

Just... who could they be?

"Yah, Byun Baekhyun!" Lee Jieun shouted to my face as she helped me press my hands harder on the gauze. "Keep more pressure on that wound!"

"A-Ah, yes, sorry," I muttered, finally going back to reality– Me standing in the middle of the emergency room, pressing my gloved hands on a gauze pad to stop bleeding from the abdomen of a stab wound victim. The patient groans in pain, his lips slowly turning paler by the minute as he loses more blood. I watched as Jieun inserted an IV line, ignoring her deathly glare. She has no sleep and no breakfast yet and receiving this patient at three in the morning did not help lighten her already tired self.

"Is something bothering you?" she asked, hooking the patient to a bottle of fluids. "You're not supposed to come to the hospital until two hours later."

"I just can't sleep... that's all," I said, pressing my hand more firmly on the wound. "And I wanted to come here early so I can relieve your duty hours earlier, too. Wouldn't you like that?"

Jieun smiled a little, the dark circles under her eyes more prominent. "I'd like that," she said. "But it'll be better if you're not lying to me right now, Byun Baekhyun."

I looked away, focusing my attention on the patient and controlling the bleeding. "It's nothing, really," I breathed. "And I believe this isn't the right time to be talking about my own problems when we have this trauma patient still bleeding right under our noses–"

Jieun suddenly smacked my shoulder. "Yah! Do you not have any faith in me?" she exclaimed rather displeased. "Let me just finish hooking him to some fluids and I'll go follow up on that scan–"

The curtains of the cubicle suddenly opened, revealing a middle-aged nurse in a scrub suit, her head peeking inside rather cautiously. She's frowning, kind of confused. "Um, doctor Byun?" She looked at me. "Sorry to interrupt. But some persistent guy is here looking for you..."

"At this hour?" I frowned.

"Um, yes," she said and her voice sounded strained. "Actually he's... right over here..." And without waiting for another word, the nurse swung the cubicle curtain even further, revealing a smiling Haechan in a black leather jacket over some black t-shirt and pants. He waved at me and winked flirtatiously at Jieun. My friend just gave him a disgusted glare.

"Hi, Baekhyun!" Haechan greeted me with full enthusiasm. "I'm here to follow up on my Boss' offer."