For the first time in his life, Wooyoung ventured outside of any solar systems. He had visited quite a few of them before; the S'orkon Section, the Anandia Halon Zone, and of course Sol, where Wooyoung's father came from and where he had been born.

The shared element of all those territories, the sun, lacked on Llypso 3MH8, the most prominent planet of the Myrhad Ring. Impenetrable and black, space doused the planet in a constant state of weightlessness. The never-ending night had creeped Wooyoung out while his ship approached the brightly illuminated surface of the planet, but roaming this city felt like the setting of an obscure fever dream.

A job had brought him here, to this foreign place. A pile of crates full of mysterious freight. They were labelled 'handle with care' in the primary language used in the United Planetary Federation (UPF), but Wooyoung had detected a grammar mistake in the simple sentence. His ware came from an unknown origin and wanted to be transported to a dubious place like Llypso. Wooyoung wasn't one to ask questions. He had taken the credits and the cargo and departed the same day. After weeks of travel, he had finally arrived, and he was curious to explore this bizarre planet after he got rid of the smuggled goods.

The man he was supposed to meet was called Kang Yeosang. His ID picture glimmering on the hologram provided to Wooyoung identified him as an android, likely an apprentice to a mechanic. It would explain the shady ware Wooyoung delivered. Depending on the galaxy, certain parts needed to manufacture robots - especially those that could be classified as explosive or poisonous - were strictly prohibited. If Llypso sought to build androids with secret weapons, smuggling the corresponding parts from another galaxy would be the cheapest and safest option.

As Wooyoung passed the security check, the scans found nothing off about his freight. Illegal ware commonly got sealed with electronic force fields that messed with the scanners' systems. The hefty sums paid for these goods made them worthy of such complicated protection.

So long as Wooyoung didn't get caught with them, he didn't care what he delivered. He wasn't the buyer nor the provider. Whatever this Kang Yeosang person needed machine parts forbidden on Llypso for, it wasn't Wooyoung's business to care. His motto was 'take the job, ask no questions, bag the money' and he stuck to it.

With his hood on his head, Wooyoung leaned against a container out on the docks. His ship was parked conveniently in the dingy corners of smugglers' preferred landing bay. His precious cargo waited to be gathered.

While he hung out, Wooyoung tapped away on the holographic screen that the tablet on his gauntlet provided. He confirmed his messages and updated his schedule for the next freight he had to pick up. Kang Yeosang had paid for the delivery, but Wooyoung wasn't one to take his money and ditch the job. If he wanted his customers to treat his risky operation with respect, he did better doing the same for them. Exemplary service and all that. A positive impression reeled in more customers.

The flickering blue glow of Wooyoung's hologram reflected in his eyes. In the dim light of the docs, it seemed too intense, so he lowered its settings further. He saw better in the night than the day, anyway.

Steps neared him, but Wooyoung withstood the urge to lift his head. He pretended for nonchalance, not making himself look more suspicious than he already was. In his black hooded shirt that withstood the cold and unfriendly surface of the city and the just as subtle pants, he barely stood out.

Only when a pair of grimy shoes halted in his line of sight where he had long since lost the focus on the hologram, Wooyoung lifted his head.

He met the immaculate and smooth face of the android. The pale blue number shimmering under his porcelain white skin at his throat gave him away, even as the coil of his lips was scarily human.

"Mister Jung Wooyoung?" The android asked, his voice smooth and deep, not sounding artificial at all.

"That's me," Wooyoung replied. He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket, wary of their leafy transaction even as he was used to nightly exchanges at abandoned locations. The cold air grazed his nape as he fiddled with the piece of metal scrap he found in his pocket. His eyes scanned the android and his immaculate facade. He didn't hide his identity or obscured his face from view. As far as he was concerned, the smuggled ware had become legal the second it had passed the security. Now it was the property of Llypso.

"Please identify yourself," the android suggested. He brandished his own wrist and the chip inside his skin flared to display his identification number. Wooyoung checked it with his data before he nodded and did the same back. He had found the Kang Yeosang he had been searching for.

"Did you have any trouble passing the border patrol?" Yeosang asked as soon as Wooyoung shoved his hands into his jacket again. He shrugged, his slouching body unimpressed as he feigned ignorance to anyone who might bring trouble his way. As the smuggler, he wasn't responsible.

"Not more than usual. The supplier sealed the wares well, so their scans didn't pick up on anything noteworthy." Those seals were a dead giveaway for Wooyoung of whether he transported legal or illegal ware. He knew what to look for while the robots didn't.

Yeosang smiled, contented with that information.

"I will take them off your hands, then." When he politely bowed his blond head, Wooyoung pushed off the container to lead him into his ship. He supposed Yeosang didn't operate far from the docks, or he had brought a vehicle if he had come alone. As they scaled the ramp, he used his fingerprint to unlock the cargo hold underneath the walkway. Once the hatch slid aside, the heavy crates came into view. Five of them, all branded with the same warning.

Wooyoung heaved the first one from its prison and handed it to Yeosang. The android had no trouble holding it. While Wooyoung took the second one, Yeosang waited respectfully so they could leave the ship together. For safety, Wooyoung balanced the crate on his leg while he locked the ship. No need for any stray rats to sneak in while he was gone.

"Will you stay on Llypso for a few days? Surely, your ship must recharge before your departure." Yeosang led him down a narrow alley that raked between two concrete houses. Their bleak, grey facades gathered the dirt and wetness of the unsanitary streets. The stench was nauseating, if not the worst Wooyoung had smelled.

"This isn't the most hospitable planet," Wooyoung muttered as Yeosang unlocked a back door with his chip and shouldered his way inside. Dusty crates and bizarre shapes covered by white cloths greeted them. Yeosang made for the designated free spot among the chaos and put the box down. It blended with the others, not suspicious in the dilapidated room.

Mould crawled in the corners and blackened the wet ceiling around the naked light bulb.

Wooyoung added his crate to Yeosang's, and they turned for the next trip. Attentive not to show too much curiosity in things that weren't his business, Wooyoung waited on the street while Yeosang sealed the door. The humid air made his clothes stick to his body uncomfortably. He tugged on his collar, hoping to get the creeping wetness out.

"It has its glamours if you know where to look."

With a civil distance between them, they returned to the docks. The android moved with scary agility, not as strained as Wooyoung, who had slept in his cramped berth for the past few weeks. Wooyoung found androids eerie, but he treated them no different from other species. Live and let live.

"Any recommendations? I will stay at a motel for a couple of nights, so I might take you up on a suggestion."

Stale in their stiff conversation that looked natural to the few night swarmers that lingered in the shadows to attend if anyone exposed valuable information, they returned to the ship. Once more, they gathered their crates, and once more, Wooyoung strained to close the hatch behind him. His arms ached from their heavy load.

The purple neon signs further down the street illuminated the ghostly, ducked sewers of the city. Water dripped somewhere to cave into the bleak, dark stone.

"It depends on your preferences. Any place has some pretty dancers to sweeten your time. Though you might want to stay clear of the local myrhads and go for the exotic races instead. I heard they get malevolent when mistaken as escorts for hire."

Wooyoung scoffed. That sounded just like them. Myrhads, the alien race native to this planetary system, were prideful and dangerous. They lived in the perpetual dark and the slums that were their homes were riddled with disease and crime. Toughened up by their unfriendly surroundings, they immediately got aggressive if insulted. Wooyoung had met only a handful of them in other solar systems, and he had always preferred silence over their presence.

When he had come here, he had made it his goal not to enrage any of the dark-skinned humanoids.

Wooyoung's messenger peeped in his ear to inform him of the curfew. In half an hour, all law enforcement would be on lockdown and those who dared wander the streets beyond that time gambled for their lives at every step. Already, he felt the shadows growing longer with added silhouettes and eyes observing them.

A shiver chased down his spine. On planets as disorderly as this one, where no government could establish order in the wicked population, he would be smart to regard said curfew.

Yeosang also tapped his ear once he set the crate down. Androids made for excellent scrap if taken apart.

However, Wooyoung's companion didn't look distressed. They roamed the way once more to fetch the last crate.

"I will stay clear of them. If I'm not after sex, what place do you recommend?" Wooyoung picked up their conversation. His hair peeked out from under his hood, exposing his inhumane heritage, and Yeosang grinned. In the fuzzy lights of wavering street lanterns, the shadows on his face looked eerie.

"Do you enjoy the thrill of watching a good fight?"

When Wooyoung nodded after a moment of pondering it, Yeosang slowed in front of his ship. He lifted his hand to print a holographic pass on his wristlet. When he handed it to Wooyoung, the card radiated an aggressive red.

"Visit this place after the curfew. And be careful on your way there. You don't want to get into your own fight." Yeosang's smirk was almost sadistic.

A rush of adventure filled Wooyoung's belly. Naturally, in his job, he enjoyed the thrill of doing something forbidden. Best if he gathered information on how to navigate the streets safely beforehand.

Whatever illegal entertainment Yeosang offered, Llypso probably made it more sickening than any movie Wooyoung could watch in boredom at his motel.

"I will drop by," he said as he unlocked the ship and handed the last crate to Yeosang. With an eye at the figure clad in black at a nearby corner that watched them from a nonchalant hood, Wooyoung added a smile.

"Let me walk you there."

Despite not having anything to carry, Wooyoung accompanied Yeosang until the entire ware was deposited in the android's care. As soon as the storage room was locked, they shook hands.

"Thank you for your assistance. I hope you enjoy your time on Llypso." Yeosang's smile was uncannily sunny for a place as unscrupulous as this. Then again, his fear functions might be tuned low to match his duties.

Wooyoung nodded and sauntered off with his head ducked between defensive shoulders. When he returned to his ship to fetch his bag, the shadow in the corner had disappeared. Perhaps he had done the right thing following Yeosang to make sure the ware arrived as planned.

After he retrieved his luggage, Wooyoung adjusted his hood and took off toward the motel. The purple light of the city guided his way in its bizarre hue that made him feel as if he walked a nightmare.

He arrived before the curfew and checked into his room. When he found the adrenaline of this dangerous place kept him up despite having a comfortable bed to rest on, Wooyoung used his time for a snack.

While he munched away, he studied the red card that had a navigator built-in instead of an address.

A place no one was allowed to know about.

Thrilled by the illegal chase, Wooyoung gulped down his sandwich and tied his shoes anew. As he left the motel, he blended into the shadows as smoothly as the other silhouettes did and followed the blinking red beacon.

Wooyoung kept his head ducked so no unwanted attention would fall on his unnatural eyes or hair colour. From his peripherals, he attended the streets and rounded corners in circles big enough to dodge a potential attacker. The red card led him deep into an obscure net of streets. Soon, he entered an area almost subterranean as he walked downhill while the buildings rose higher and higher around him to preserve the illusion of the surface. The single sinking path took him past dubious houses with shattered windows and graffiti sprayed over their sides. The stench of piss and rotting food twisted Wooyoung's stomach. Every rustle made him flinch, even when it was just a rat digging through the trash lining the channels.

No law enforcement had come here in ages; that much was evident.

The hidden path soon got overshadowed by the buildings above that seamlessly blocked the area from view. No drones could pick up on the target location between the jumbled mess of squeezed houses.

Wooyoung huddled into his jacket, his eyes wide open and on alert. He felt as if someone might jump at him from every corner, and even his nocturnal eyes struggled to make out the shadows. The beacon on the red card blinked wildly, informing him he had almost arrived.

He believed it, even when he didn't know where to go from here.

After some straying, he found the camouflaged entrance behind a corrugated iron sheet that blended against a house as if it was part of its humble construction. When he pushed it aside, a long corridor led to a source of the same red light as the card in his hand.

Red light reminded Wooyoung of two things. Brothels and murder scenes.

Interested to see which one this would be, Wooyoung dipped into the corridor and tugged the sheet back into place. Yeosang had no reason to get rid of him since Wooyoung had no tangible data on the android he could expose. Any illegal doings he reported were his own undoing, so his vow of silence was mutually beneficial.

Yet, his heart galloped in his chest as he made his way down the stuffy pathway. Exploring a forbidden place was always a thrill, and the fact that it had an entrance card assured him of some order. Maybe he wouldn't get killed.

At the end of the tunnel, Wooyoung found a security scanner similar to the big ones used on airships, and a bell. Cast in the eerie red light, he tapped the bell and listened to it ring as he waited. Wary of any death rays, he eyed the contraception. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Voices sounded behind the door up ahead. They were louder than the muffled sounds of a crowd beyond, buzzing and cheering over a shared event. An announcer was also there, but Wooyoung couldn't make out his voice.

"I'll get it," was the first clear thing he heard before the door sprung open. A myrhad came strutting in, bringing the cacophony with him until the heavy iron door fell shut behind him. His bright eyes studied Wooyoung as he came to stand on the other side of the scanner.

Wooyoung stared at the man in awe. He wore a skin-tight crop top in a blatant red and bedazzled with sparkling sequin that spelt the number one. His matching booty shorts clung to his hips and framed his muscular legs and abdomen. The laces on his black boots were undone and gathered the dirt on the ground.

Around his hips and dangling around his thighs, a myriad of brown belts held little vials with mysterious green liquid sloshing inside. Their luminous glow radiated off his sparkle.

His hair was coloured a shocking red instead of the bony white of other myrhads. It tousled around the ring of little horns that grew from his forehead to surround his head like a crown. They were as black as his skin.

"What can I do for you?" The man asked in an accent-free UPF speech when he picked up on Wooyoung's foreign looks.

Wooyoung produced the invitation card from his pocket and held it out.

"I was recommended this place?"

The man stepped through the scanner and it promptly went off, but he silenced it with a grumbled tap on his wristlet. As he checked Wooyoung's card with it, Wooyoung tried to listen to the swelling cries on the other side of the door.

After a moment, the myrhad gave an approving grunt. He beckoned Wooyoung to follow him with a wave of his hand.

"Step through. We don't accept flammable or explosive materials inside, as well as any sort of weapon. Show me what you got and we will figure it out."

However, as Wooyoung stepped through the scanner, it didn't make a peep. Wooyoung wasn't one to carry weapons, for his human half was prone to lose in fights. Smug, he grinned at the alien's satisfied face.

"The running type, eh? Might work best in this shithole. Welcome in. My name is Hongjoong and I am your host tonight." Hongjoong opened the door for Wooyoung and led them through.

The question of where he was got answered before Wooyoung had to ask. They were at the entrance of a round arena, cosy in size, with seven rows of seats that looked out over a dusty space in the middle. Two figures were entangled in a deadly embrace of bulging muscles and a whipping tail. Wooyoung couldn't tell what races they belonged to, only that the punch of a bandaged fist against the side of its opponent carried an alarming strength.

The crowd went wild. Various languages called over each other as the tongues, teeth, and lips of a wild mix of aliens mingled. Some of them stood from their seats to call in indignation, others held those green vials at Hongjoong's hips to drink their contents in cheer.

The air was tense from the thrill of the fight, and it dragged Wooyoung along as if in a black hole. As he pursued Hongjoong across the tribune to find a seat, his eyes were stuck on the fighting duo.

One creature threw the other to the ground and pinned it just as Hongjoong halted to have Wooyoung sit. The crowd broke out in cheers or groans, depending on who they had bet on. Fascinated, Wooyoung watched the announcer - another myrhad - run on the field to grasp the winner's hand.

"And our winner is Jongho, the Unbeatable Rhor!"

Jongho - a massive bulk of bulging muscles under skin as thick and grey as stone - lifted his other three arms in cheer. His enemy was beaten to a pulp and lay twitching on the ground until two helpers carted him off. Jongho got to drink up his cheers for a moment, and Hongjoong weaselled away to gather up the money made from bets.

Awed, Wooyoung sunk into his seat. Fighting rings were unconstitutional simply for their lawless brutality and the inequality of the battling races. Yet as he waited for another contest to begin, Wooyoung stared with rapt attention.

A tap on his arm made him glimpse at his right seating neighbour. He didn't want to get involved with the type of people in this crowd, but the sight that greeted him had him come up short.

He faced an angelian, the pure and noble race of the most prestigious planet in the S'orkon Section. The young man wore a crookedly sewn poncho over his ivory white uniform that was decorated with mother-of-pearl and golden fringes.

His golden eyes shone with a gentle kindness on his doll-like features. Pointed ears with dangling lobes that reached to his chest were decorated with filigree jewellery that sparkled like a beacon to the countless criminals in the slums of Llypso.

His long, black hair was tied out of his face in an elegant half up half down style.

The guy was super out of place. More so than a sea horse on Wooyoung's ship would have been.

"Hello!" He greeted Wooyoung with a soft voice. It was singing, almost lulling, a voice meant to entice people to follow and serve. Wooyoung warily accelerated the protective waves of his earpiece.

"Can I help you?" He asked, curt in his distrust. The other man's dark eyes twinkled as he charged right on.

"Is this your first time here?"

Wooyoung saw no hidden trap in the question, so he nodded. The angelian clasped his gloved hands together. Under the white veil meant to ease the power of his voice, his lips pulled into a broad smile.

"Isn't this so intriguing? I love this place! There is so much, you know, of this and... and this!" He mimicked boxing with his elegant, delicate hands. The movements were unsure and far from the reality of a fighting sport. Wooyoung had to laugh.

"I hadn't expected such a refined and intelligent race to be engrossed in such roughhousing," he confessed, but the angelian shook his head wildly.

"Not at all! There are so many compelling people here, they are so strong! I like when they do the- the, uh- where they spring?"

A voice interrupted them before Wooyoung could try to make sense of the babbling waterfall by his side.

"Hey, long ear. Don't bother my customers." Hongjoong, who had appeared on the walkway out of nowhere, stemmed his hands into his hips and glared down at the recoiling alien. From up close, Wooyoung detected a faint golden blush on the angelian's cheeks that stood out on his milky skin even under the vague light.

"S-sorry," he muttered. The announcer hailed the next fight while Hongjoong strutted off. Inaudible under the noise, the angelian leaned to whisper to Wooyoung. The smuggler had to read his lips to understand him.

"I'm Seonghwa," he mumbled, meek so as not to alert Hongjoong again.

Wooyoung couldn't help but find him amusing.

"Wooyoung," he offered before he focused on the show.

"For our next round, everyone, drum roll please, because here comes your favourite, your one and only! The pride and joy of our ring!" A rush of cheers responded to the announcer. The crowd stomped their feet, enthusiastic for the one who would fight the tall myrhad in the middle of the ring. Wooyoung didn't participate, but he eyed the closed doors down in the arena in interest. The announcer had hidden away and only his shrill voice fired them up.

"The one none of us expected to win a single fight! Our most beloved Bandog! Choi San!"

Wooyoung expected anything. A myrhad, another rhor, maybe even a robot if those were allowed.

He did not expect a human.

When the doors opened to give way to a man much smaller than the myrhad, Wooyoung's mouth dropped open. He had checked the graphs before coming here and as expected, so far from Sol and in the territory of aliens much more able and intelligent, the amount of humans on Llypso was a distinct zero. They were rare, for they were delicate, and Wooyoung had cursed his half of them more than a million times for its shortcomings.

But there he was. A human dressed in white clothes that hugged his narrow waist and broad shoulders. His dark hair hung into his eyes as he stalked around the myrhad as if he were the predator, as if he had the horns and bulging muscle.

Wooyoung was on the edge of his seat. Never in a million years would a human win against a myrhad in a fistfight. He would watch a cocky fool get crushed into a pulp by an enemy much larger than him, and he was thrilled.

"Go!" The announcer called before Wooyoung had time to interview Seonghwa about this ridiculous development. No rules applied concerning who battled whom. It was all a sickening mixture of coincidence and luck.

He didn't know whom the human could beat out of the attending fighters. No one, probably. His sheer arrogance in joining the fight was baffling.

When the two fighters first crashed into each other, the myrhad pushed the human's unyielding feet through the sand. San swung first and his fist crashed into the myrhad's face nastily, but the tall creature merely growled and shook the pain off. It grabbed at the human, seeking to throw him, but he surged back, his fists on guard. Through the loose strands of his hair, his dark eyes matched his title.

A shiver of exhilaration made Wooyoung's legs restless. As he massaged the jumpy muscles, he glanced up to find Hongjoong nearby. The man had crossed his arms and watched the duel with a subtle smile on his lips, too engrossed to sell his vials.

San crashed another fist into his enemy's face. His knuckles were wrapped in white bandages, same as his waist where slivers of skin peeked through.

The myrhad groaned in frustration and disorientation. It got a swipe in, catching San's lip and ripping it open. Another punch followed right up. This one met San's brow, and the crowd groaned as they listened to the sickening thud.

Wooyoung almost had to stand up and pace; he was that nervous. He didn't know whom he was rooting for, but his eyes stuck to the agile back of the human, the rippling muscles, the way his every step was intense with deliberated power.

A kick brought the myrhad to its knees. San dodged a punch with a twist of his shoulder and his foot struck his opponent in the kneecap. Down on one leg, the myrhad growled, about to lunge for a deadly embrace, when San grabbed one of its horns. Wide eyes didn't see the movement coming, it was that fast.

When San's knee brutally crashed into the myrhad's nose, the bone gave in with a crack audible through the entire arena. San's gritted jaw was sharp against his heaving neck and sweat trailed down his temples. As he dropped the myrhad, he didn't stagger. He wiped his lip as he turned around, leaving a bloody smear across his cheek. His slender body already carried him from the field as the moderator counted down.

The crowd broke out in cheers when San was pronounced the winner. Wooyoung sat with his mouth agape as Seonghwa sprung to his feet next to him and clapped his hands in enthusiastic little flutters.

"Did you see that?! He's the best of them all! The Bandog of Llypso!" Seonghwa yelled in Wooyoung's direction. He bounced on his feet and waved, trying to get San's attention as the man slipped away through a door.

When Wooyoung lifted his eyes from the field, he caught Hongjoong's gaze. The myrhad smirked at him before he turned to gather prize money.

Vivid in his mind, the show of the Bandog overruled Wooyoung with awe.

-

The exhilaration in Wooyoung's veins persisted and made his blood sing even after the contest ended. The Bandog, San, didn't show up again in the later fights, but Wooyoung caught himself scanning the tribune and the announcements time and time again in his idle hope to catch another peek. Over being disappointed, he was still shaken by the fight. The raw power in San's limited human body, the fluidity of his motions, down to the fierceness of his eyes, Wooyoung replayed it again and again in his memories. As the show ended and it was time to leave, he stumbled on a step simply because he was so dazed by his enchantment.

Hongjoong was at the entrance and saw off the visitors. When Wooyoung came through with his blown eyes and his shaky hands, the myrhad clapped an amused hand on his shoulder.

"Got shaken up, friend? You look as if you were the one who got his ass beat." The glint in his eyes was all too knowing of the impact their program had.

As if Hongjoong were his new god, Wooyoung stared up at him. No word came over his lips, as speaking seemed like a much too tricky thing to do with his thrumming body.

Seonghwa came up by his side, his bounce elated.

"It was San! He was struck ever since his fight!" He giggled in mutual understanding. As Hongjoong eyed the two of them, his smile was prideful.

"Make sure he doesn't get mugged on his way back, long ear. I would feel bad," Hongjoong said as he waved them through. Seonghwa gladly hooked his arm around Wooyoung's and tugged him along.

"As you wish, Hongjoong," he sing-sang. When Hongjoong grinned at him in gratitude, Seonghwa involuntarily made an endeared little sound in his throat. He almost jumped in joy as he led Wooyoung outside onto the street.

The mutual understanding of having spent a good time together had the other visitors filter away in peace. Rid of their tension and the mundane trot of their daily lives, they dispersed to live another day in boredom and maybe return tomorrow.

Wooyoung trudged along with Seonghwa. His stupefied stare was directed at the ground as his inner eye still saw his powerful back in front of him, the speed of his fist. The sharp cut of his cheekbones and jaw.

Wooyoung buried his face in his hands.

"Fuck."

Seonghwa broke out in pearls of laughter that trickled over Wooyoung like a fresh spring.

"It was my third time there, but he never fails to impress. I don't know how he does it. Each time he shows up, I'm sure he must lose. And then he beats up someone thrice his size. I know how you feel."

Wooyoung rubbed his temples, distressed with the fault of that information. A human couldn't win such fights. While San had looked well-trained and strong in his youthful dexterity, he didn't have the genetic advantages his opponents had. How could he win? And how could he look so attractive while he did it?

"Once, he did the throwing someone over his shoulder move? It was some android he did it to, so I was like 'never', but he pulled it off!"

"Maybe he dopes," Wooyoung muttered, distracted by Seonghwa's rambling even when it didn't aid his turmoil. San had moved as if he didn't harbour a single bone in his body. His fight had been like a dance, a dance of raw power and broken noses.

"He doesn't, actually. I asked Hongjoong about it, San takes fighting very seriously. I wondered if he were a cyborg at least, but nope. Just a damn strong human with reflexes better than a bird."

That mixture was just unfair. Someone so strong shouldn't also be so agile. Yet San wasn't just a mountain of muscle and brute strength. He had the slender body of a dancer. The combination was deadly, both in a boxing fight as well as for Wooyoung's nerves.

"I need to go back," Wooyoung realised. He couldn't get enough of this. This dubious fighting ring and its questionable crowd. He wanted to see San two, three, four more times and watch him do extraordinary stunts with that unholy body of his.

Wooyoung felt starved at the idea of not seeing him again.

Seonghwa laughed tastefully behind his hand. The jewellery in his ears jingled as it fell over the poncho that barely concealed his status.

"We can probably arrange that! He is a regular fighter there. By the way, where do we need to go to bring you back to?"

While Wooyoung absentmindedly gave him the coordinates, his focus was only on the battle. He didn't bother watching the dark corners Seonghwa's eyes couldn't penetrate. Nothing mattered but the Bandog.

Where was he now? Did his lip hurt? Had they patched up his wounds? Did he rest?

Wooyoung slapped his own forehead when he imagined the man at ease, not tensed in a fight, as he sprawled on a bed.

Seonghwa giggled again.

"In love, are we?"

Wooyoung whined in response, exasperated with the jumbled mess of his thoughts. Would he ever be the same again? His world had tilted the slightest bit to the left and everything was shifted out of place now.

Merrily, Seonghwa walked by his side as he babbled about his past experiences at the fighting ring.

"The first fight I ever saw was with the Rhor, Jongho. He is super intense, one of the best. He is part of the local team, as San is, as opposed to those who only drop in for a single fight to earn some prize money and boast with the experience. Jongho commonly also wins his fights by sheer durability, but I saw him pull some tricky manoeuvres before that impressed me. San is always mysterious. He shows up, absolutely destroys an opponent much bigger than him, and disappears. He isn't there for the fame and not for the money, though he gets more than enough of both. I should bet on him next time! By now I'm sure he won't lose." Awed, Seonghwa tilted his head to stare into the stars beyond the blurred glow of the city.

Wooyoung was busy thinking of a hundred plans to return to the ring.

"How does one get in again?"

His card had disappeared when Hongjoong had let him enter and he had seen no stand selling new ones.

Seonghwa grimaced as he came out of his own marvel.

"It's tricky. Since they want no people in the crowd who could jeopardise the business, cards get handed out only by staffs and associates. If you become a regular, they will approach you with a permanent entry permit, but that takes a long time."

"Then how did you get back in?"

Seonghwa blushed. Shy fingers played with the corner of his veil as his eyes flicked left and right to avoid Wooyoung's stare. The smuggler was impatient for his own greed to return.

"Perhaps some money, and my voice played a role in it. I wouldn't get in otherwise, since people would mistake me as a government worker trying to disperse the club. Though I would never do that." Seonghwa pouted to himself and then flinched when a rat in the gutter made a hasty movement. Brooding, Wooyoung spun his plans by the angelian's side.

If he found Yeosang again, he might be able to convince the man for another card. He had the money to buy his way in through the android, too, if necessary. He would spend a lot to see that show again.

Seonghwa was oblivious to Wooyoung's plotting as he twirled a strand of his hair between his fingers.

"I'm hoping to persuade Hongjoong to give me a permanent permit next time. He was around every time I went, so he knows I'm no scoundrel. Oh, but what if he thinks I would try to sneak in an actual government worker? They can probably personalise the permit, right?"

Amused by the man's instant fretting, Wooyoung chuckled.

"You're into him, aren't you?"

"Who?" Wide eyes pretended for innocence.

"Hongjoong."

Seonghwa flushed a charming hue of gold that matched the colour of his blood. He waved his hands around in panic, as if Wooyoung couldn't see his involuntary smile through the transparent veil.

"No, no, I just think his clothes suit him very much! On my home planet, you wouldn't get away wearing something that, uh..."

"Tight?"

"Y-yes, that was what I was thinking of," Seonghwa stuttered. He rubbed his nape and then perked up when he spotted Wooyoung's motel around the corner.

"Here we are! It was a joy talking to you. Next time I go, I will ask Hongjoong to keep a seat free by my side. I hope you can make it!"

Wooyoung smiled, at ease with this messy angelian and his antics.

"Thank you for walking me back; I owe you. Have a good rest, Seonghwa."

Bashful, Seonghwa waved it off. His smile was brilliant even through the layer separating it from Wooyoung.

"You're welcome, friend! See you around!" He took off between the alleys while Wooyoung dusted off his shoes and made his way inside the motel. The automaton at the entrance spat out a bottle of water against some credits and he chugged it on his way up to his room. He felt sweaty and dehydrated even after his drink, so he dropped the bottle into the bin with a huff.

The scent of the slums and the ring clung to his clothes as he took them off for a wash. As he breathed it in, he was taken back to the loud arena, to the green vials and to the flying fists.

Wooyoung tapped a message out to Yeosang even when he knew their contact was strictly for business. Yeosang had been kind enough not to terminate his data yet. Perhaps he needed Wooyoung for another job while he was here. Perhaps he had foreseen what would happen. Either way, Wooyoung was shameless as he typed in the letters. Once it had sent, he stepped into the adjoining bathroom to wash the grime of Llypso off his skin.

His mind kept returning to San. The balance of his stance, the confidence as he had taken on the myrhad. With a groan, Wooyoung leaned his head against the wall when his hand wrapped around his length. The blood in his veins still circulated hotly and filled him with desire in just a few tugs.

He almost felt bad, jerking off to the mental image of San beating someone up. Each time his fist landed a blow, a shiver wracked Wooyoung's spine and his hips kicked into his fist. With his head tilted into his arm, he panted.

It was the image of that blood-smeared mouth and the fierce eyes when the angle had been just right that made Wooyoung come. He dirtied the shower wall for mere moments before the water washed the evidence of his shame away.

For long minutes, he just stood there, letting the water run over his back. His mind spiralled, wondered whether San had showered already, how he smelled after a fight, if he had been scared to lose.

By the time Wooyoung finally washed up, his eyes burnt with tiredness. He stepped out of the shower and didn't bother getting dressed, just striding into his room naked as day. As he flung his body onto his bed and grabbed his tablet, the alert of a new message jumped at him. He pushed his colourful hair back to read it.

Yeosang had replied.

'Meet me at the entrance to the ring tomorrow evening. I'll get you in.'

No questions, no demands for repayment.

Wooyoung bit his knuckle to hold back his silly smile.

He didn't reply. He just dropped his tablet, exhausted enough to sleep.

It took him a while to doze off. His mind was on alert about San, and his body thrummed from his need to jump and cheer and celebrate with the rest of the ecstatic arena.

He laid awake for many hours, imagining seeing San again and watching him show off his intense skill. In his mind, San won battle after battle and he looked more and more attractive after each.

Wooyoung was glad to fall asleep before his body yearned again, but the itch of his hunger wasn't stilled even as his tired eyes finally gave in on him.