"Khun Kim, Khun Kinn asks for you," Arm says. Kim hums his acknowledgment. All the fun he had teasing Chay evaporated into thin air.

He ruffles Chay's hair before he gets up. "Be good," he says, earning a snicker from the youngsters. Macau grumbles, "What are we? Ten?"

"You," he points at Macau, "need my permission if you want to take him to satisfy your mischievous behavior."

"My mischievous behavior? You certainly don't know him that well," Macau points his finger at Chay, who then slaps his stomach under the table. Kim shifts his glance to Porchay, who, despite being scared out of his wits, holds his glance back.

"Be good," Kim says again, this time there is an obvious darker hint to his voice that makes Chay shiver.

Kim's demeanor changes when his feet get further from the table. For him, changing his persona is a natural thing. All he needs is a click inside his head. He has been doing this for as long as he can remember. It is only slightly harder than breathing.

Kinn throws a file to him as soon as he sits down. Kim opens it without a hurry, taking in every word and every photo with deep thoughts.

'Chay is here, safe and sound. He can go and finish the work without being driven like a madman.'

"The human trafficker in our territory I've told you about is loading tonight. Usually, I was putting a blind eye to this kind of business, until they started doing children."

Kim's eyes flick to a low-quality photo of children on a truck.

"You want to send a message or you want to bring the whole operation down?"

Kinn ponders for a while. "Our family never deals with trafficking in the first place. Vegas has his own chains of prostitution, but he never has to kidnap someone for it. As far as I know, girls, boys, men, and women, work for him willingly and for good pay. I dislike this and I know you too. Selling children to perverts or as slaves is never ok. I will give you free rein with this. Do whatever you think is necessary to make it go away."

Kim nods and takes the file with him. Kinn has done a good job of spying properly, better than usual. Probably Porsche's influenced because if anyone hates child abuse of any kind, it's Porsche. Kim kind of gets it. Porsche and Porchay's childhood was kind of abused too.

Kinn gave Kim the blueprint of the building as well as routes of accesses and exits. He calls his team for a meeting and brainstorms a way to get in and get out most effectively.

Emotions are running high with this operation. Most, if not all, despise children trafficker. They are the lowest of lowest scum on earth. But emotions in this job can be dangerous as they can cloud your judgment.

Kim had a first-hand experience with that one. When he was in Pattaya and found out that Porsche had shipped Porchay out of Thailand, he went rampage, for lack of a better word. He was out for blood.

What he wanted was Porche's blood, really, for sneaking out behind his back. But even in his mad state, he knew Porsche was off-limit. So he tuned it out to something else. There were days his clothes were soaked with blood. People on the street have a new fear unlocked. The mention of his name, Kimhan, sent people running for the hill.

The last days of that madness were when he was laid between life and death.

And all he can think about back then is Porchay.

After that, he preferred to use his head in combat, becoming more of his old self before Chay. Kim only dirtied his hands when he had to. But even then his hands were soaked in blood plenty of times. But he was fine with it.

He did what was necessary.

"Hate can be useful if you use it not excessively. Anything excessive is simply out of the question as it can be a danger to the people around you. So I'm asking you this before you go, to check yourselves. If you think you are unable to think straight when we meet the objectives, I don't want you. I want to go home in one piece, without so much as a cut."

Otherwise, there is someone who will be worried. Even when he'll pretend not to.

He gets ready in slow mode and covers his stomach and hands thoroughly with a long cloth before wearing a bulletproof vest. It's a mandatory procedure for the team along with the weapon silencer. Tonight he choose to wear a black long-sleeved t-shirt with worn-out leather pants, his favorite since it enables him to move like a second skin. He slips on his knife holster and takes his time to choose his weapon and silencer. He then bundled his hair in a tight bun.

After that, he prays. His only wish is to come back to Chay: alive, breathing, intact, and fully functioning.

Near the departure time, he asks Big, "Where is Chay?"

"In his room, Khun. He stays there after his talk with Khun Porsche."

Kim frowns. 'A talk with Porsche'. That can't be a good thing.

"Tell the team we take the back entrance and leave quietly."

Big nods and leaves the room.

Kim's inner team consists of 21 people, hand-picked by himself, and has harder training than the rest of the bodyguards of the family. Some people in the team aren't even bodyguards. They are people Kim found in the streets he occupied. Kim pays for their hard work and loyalty with brotherhood and handsome pay.

They ride at midnight, wearing the usual all-black outfit. Kim gives freedom to his team to wear anything comfortable, be it a shirt, t-shirt, jacket, or anything else. They wear a red scarf, as identification. It's easy to see which are your teammates and which are the enemies.

Kim has worn a mask to cover the lower part of his face since his early days in Pattaya. It was custom-made to make him breathe easier and harder to be identified by people. His team follows.

Sure, people only need to open Google to know Kimhan Theerapanyakun's face as his family is a well-known one. But on the street, anonymity and ambiguity are the best.

People know his name, but they never meet him in person. Who meets him, is usually unable to tell the story about what he looks like.

It only takes 10 swift minutes to disable the CCTV system and another 20 to tackle the guard in front and sweep the rest as they go from room to room of the building. After the major threat is immobilized, they part into two teams. One goes to free the victim, another to search for the boss. A man named Jaran.

Kim finds him with his pants down, trying to rape a woman. This man is oblivious to the hell outside this room. Kim sighs. No wonder it only takes half an hour for this operation to go down.

But then again, Jaran is not the big boss. He is only the middleman. The big boss is a man with influence and harder to catch with his pants down.

"Who are you?" Jaran asks, still with a cocky tone.

"You're worst nightmare." Kim gives a hand sign for his men to deal with this scum, beating him good enough to make the man plead for his life while Kim sits down and looks bored out of his mind.

"Who are you, exactly?" asks the man through his battered lips and missing teeth.

Kim takes his time before leaning from his chair, and says in a quiet voice, "My name is Kimhan Theerapanyakun."

The man's eyes grow wide. He gulps, "The boogeyman."

Kim cocks his head. He never quite liked that nickname. It makes him feel old.

"Do you know who I work for?" says the man, clearly trying to get out of the death penalty.

"Yes, of course. Why do you think you are still alive, Jaran? You're still alive because you have to deliver this message to your boss: the theerapanyakuns don't deal with trafficking in his territory, especially children. Whatever deal he has with my father is over because my father's reign is over. Now, repeat after me!"

Kim makes Jaran repeat the sentences over and over and over again. Every mistake earns him a cut to whatever body part of him that Kim likes.

By the time Jaran repeats it perfectly, that man passed out. Kim orders his men to hang him somewhere in the building entrance to make a point.

Kim is about to walk away from the room when he hears, "Thank you," from the woman who stands in the corner of the room. Kim guesses she chooses to stay. There is a vomit near her. She can't stomach the torture. She has a beautiful face, though. Good enough to be a model or a movie star. An objective observation.

He doesn't say anything, not even a nod, as he walks away.

He doesn't do this out of the goodness of his heart. This is just a job for him, an assignment. On the way out, Kim's eyes find their way to the children. Their state is ... worrying.

His men give them meals, water, and blankets. They gulp them down like they haven't eaten for days. That may be more true than false.

Kim shakes his head. People say he is the incarnation of the devil, but even he has no heart to do this to them. It takes a special kind of psychopath to do this. 

He orders half of his men to deal with the aftermath, call the clean-up crew, and prioritize the children delivering them to their families. If they don't have families, likely most of these children are from the street, they are to be dropped off at orphanages his family donors to.

Someone is watching him, Kim feels. From the corner of his eyes, he sees that girl again, now wrapped in a blanket that one of his men gave her and a bottle of water in her hand.

He is used to someone looking at him like that, so he bears no mind. No one matters except one person for him.

Then Kim drives with the rest, to home, to where his Porchay is.

***
Porchay's steps halt just when he is about to take the elevator after he sends Macau home.

It's Porsche.

Porchay is saying colorful words inside his head. This can't be good.

"Hia," he gives Porsce a warm smile, hoping Porsche's stern face to change.

Porsche's face stays the same. "We need to talk."

'Oh, no. He wants to talk about the hickey, I bet. Damn, you, Kimhan Theerapanyakun. You and your ways to get me in trouble!'

Porchay gulps nervously. "About what?"

Porsche takes him by the nape and ushers Chay to his office.

"Sit down."

Porchay does what he asks.

It takes more than a while for Porsche to start talking. Whatever it is he wants to talk about making him stop himself more than a few times and contemplate.

"I know you're a big boy now and have ... needs."

'Oh, my God. He wants to talk about that.'.

Porchay wants nothing but to stop this conversation. His face was bright red.

"Hia," he says as a means to interrupt whatever it is Porsche is about to say, but the older holds his hand in front to stop Chay.

"You need to learn safe sex."

'Oh, God!'

"And how to clean up before and after ..."

'Oh, God, please!'

"Hia!" Porchay's voice is now more stern and loud.

But nothing can stop Porsche's rumbling. The older doesn't even look him in the eyes at this moment. "I don't know if you're a top or a bottom, but judging from Kim, I think I know the preference. I might be wrong or you guys want to switch up or something, so it is still important that you know ..."

"Hia!" Chay is shouting now, with his whole body redden from embarrassment.

Porsche stops. Only now he looks at Porschay. There is a sadness in his eyes. He takes something out of the inner pocket of his suit and puts it on the table before Chay.

A plane ticket.

"If you want to get out from all of this," he says. "I have contacts there. They'll set you up for a comfortable life."

Chay stares at the ticket and then at Porsche, who seems to steel up himself.

"I'll deal with the rest."

The rest means Kim.

Porchay loves his Hia and loves him very much. But he doesn't think his Hia can have a chance against Kim in his prime. Kim will kill Porsche if he takes that ticket.

Beside... Porchay doesn't even want to get away from Kim. Not now, maybe not ever.

"Hia," he says as he pushes the ticket back to Porsche. "That's ok, I want this," he smiles.

Porsche seems to doubt it because he makes that face. Chay laughs, and something drips from his cheek. "I do, I really do. I'm fine, Hia, and I will be fine."

He stands up and walks to the door.

"Chay," his Hia calls. "I'm sorry."

Porchay only nods without turning his back and opens the door.
***