⋆.˚⭒⋆ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ'ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎. . .⋙

[■■■■■■■■■■] 100% ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ.

"When can you start?" The tall male asks, taking a step backwards as he turns on his heel, laughing quietly, clasping his hands together with a loud smack. "We've got a delivery for you, errand boy. You say you can drive? Prove it. Right now."

Wooyoung watches the male intently, studying his body language and depth of his tone, his eyes gathering as much information about the male he was sure to have been Park Seonghwa. From his studying, the images presented to him by Mingyu had vaguely discussed details of each male he'd likely come across. Seonghwa was practically the keeper of the underground, and seemed to be the only way to gain access to such a network. He was intimidating with a slight husk to his voice, and the way his eyes narrowed and lulled when he spoke only added that much more intrigue to his every word. Wooyoung knew he'd have to impress these three males, the other two remaining unclear, though he has a vague recollection of names that harbored themselves closest to San's throne.

Seonghwa seemed to work directly beneath San, and for the most part, would be the first or second in command to such a cartel. Kim Hongjoong, presumably the male with glasses and slightly shorter, was known to be San's right-hand man. If San wanted anything done, it went straight to Hongjoong, who then passed it down the chain towards Seonghwa. Hongjoong was smug, maybe a bit of a know-it-all, but Wooyoung could see the myriad of thoughts dangling between his hues. He was trying to piece everything together, to try and match Wooyoung's face to something that he's seen before. Wooyoung wasn't sure how much Hongjoong knew, or for how long he had been a part of the underworld, but he could tell just based upon his posture and near-emotionless expression that he was hardened enough to seem cold yet utterly interested.

Lee Minho, which Wooyoung assumed to be the final male, dressed in leisurely, loose dress-wear, accented with a ball cap and long, unkempt hair, made Wooyoung assume that he was the lead on driving. There was a simple nature to Minho, as he seemed quiet and overly unenthusiastic, but there was a fierceness in his eyes that seemed to play on the edges of risk. He liked the chase, liked to feel a car's engine purr beneath his finger tips, to shift the gears and pull on his e-brake, to feel as the car drifted around a curve with a subtle squeal of his tires. Wooyoung knew what it all felt like; the adrenaline and the rush, the craving for something that could truly never be cured.

They all were mysterious, harboring more details on the inside, but just based upon his first assumptions and detailed readings, Wooyoung can assume that they all lay interconnectedly to San himself, acting as the leaders within the mafia's center ring.

"What are the details?" Wooyoung asks, shifting the way he had been holding his bag.

Seonghwa simply smiles, shrugging his shoulders, glancing at Hongjoong. "Get in your car, open the trunk. We'll load the delivery in the back, and all you have to do is to get from point A to point B."

Wooyoung, internally, begins to question what exactly they're going to load into the back of his car, but he swallows the impulse.

"I can handle that," Wooyoung says, reaching into his pocket for his car keys. "Let's get this underway."

Seonghwa nods, turning to whisper something to Minho and Hongjoong before gazing back at Wooyoung, who had already turned on his heel and moved back towards his car. He watches as his car lights turn back on after he presses the unlock button, opening the back seat to toss his bag back inside before moving to the driver's side door, pausing as he listens to the rustling about behind him. He's worried, only slightly, that this was entirely a set up, but he knew that he needed to play along for the fear that they'd kill him on the spot.

So, he takes a breath, inwards and out, settling into his seat before restarting the engine, listening as it rumbles and purrs, vibrating the vehicle slightly before calming down. Wooyoung reaches to press the trunk button, spotting the trunk popping open in his rearview mirror. He can hear conversation looming outside of his car amongst the rumbles of the engine and exhaust, along with feeling something heavy be placed in the rear of his trunk. Wooyoung's eyes are nearly glued to the rearview mirror, waiting for an inkling as to what had been placed within. For all he knew, it could be a slander of drugs, a myriad of weapons, or even worse; a dead body. He didn't want to question the things that the mafia itself were drawn into, as he didn't wish to step on anyone's toes, but the anticipation and the unknown all pressed against his chest, making his heart flutter with worry.

The trunk slams shut, followed by approaching footsteps before Seonghwa nears the window, using his knuckle to knock against it. Wooyoung rolls the window down, watching as Seonghwa leans down, smirking when their eyes meet.

"Here," he says, handing over a black ear-piece. "This will keep you connected to me. I'll instruct you on where to go."

"Easy enough," Wooyoung mutters, brushing his hair back as he smoothly places the ear-piece in.

"Remember," Seonghwa says quietly, wrapping his hand around the car door, right where the window should've been. "Do not get caught by the police. Stay in the dark, avoid high-traffic areas, and whatever you do– do not bring the police back here. The king will have your head."

Wooyoung nods, placing a hand on the steering wheel, watching as Seonghwa meanders away, shouting something to the men who must've lingered nearby. Wooyoung rolls up his window, shifting the car into reverse, eyeing his mirrors before he spots Seonghwa in the reflection, watching him closely. Wooyoung pauses, feeling as if Seonghwa was purely staring into him, boring into his soul from the reflection alone. Suddenly, Seonghwa reaches up and taps something in his ear, his voice smoothly coming through the ear-piece that Wooyoung now wore.

"Move back towards the gate. It'll open for you."

Wooyoung takes a breath, shifting the car again as he places it into drive, steering off to the left, observing as the iron gates slowly begin to open automatically.

"I forgot to mention something," Seonghwa starts, a slight hum to his voice. "There are two other people making deliveries to the same warehouse. You need to beat them there by any means necessary."

Wooyoung's eyes widened, but he said nothing.

"You thought you were the only one applying for this job?" Seonghwa laughs. "You're not the only driver in the world, Jung Wooyoung. Prove your worth. Make it to that warehouse first. Show us just how prepared you are to join the Crimson Cartel."

Wooyoung focused on the space ahead of him, gripping the steering wheel a fraction tighter as he slowly lowered his foot down towards the gas pedal, hesitating, hovering; anticipating anything else from the male the continued the stare at his vehicle. But, in the space of a breath, Wooyoung hears the rumble of two other cars pulling up behind him, their lights flashing on, engines roaring, coming to a soft halt just inches away. His gaze flicks between all three of his mirrors, studying the cars, trying to make out faces or makes of the cars, as he wasn't sure if these other men were drifters or straight racers. He didn't know who he was up against, let alone did he ever expect to be street racing for a place amongst a mafia, of all groups. But, he wouldn't back down. Not now, not ever.

"On my mark," Seonghwa hums, his figure disappearing amongst the evening shadows, yet his voice appears like a phantom, sending a chill up Wooyoung's spine. "Go."

The gates, now fully open, made way for the vehicles as they sped off and out of the parking lot, the brakes screeching as each car exited the grounds, turning off to the left, causing the once quiet city streets to roar with the grumble of intense engines.

Wooyoung placed his hand on the gear shift, tapping the button inwards as he shifts into a new gear, pressing on the gas pedal heavily, his eyes flicking up to look at the cars behind him. They were a comfortable distance away, for now, but he wasn't sure as to how long it would last. These people, unknown to him with skills he couldn't quite anticipate, made him uneasy, but it somehow only settled his resolve even further.

"At the next intersection, turn right and stay on the straight for the next few miles. You'll get your next directions soon." Seonghwa's voice rings through the earpiece, reverberating through Wooyoung's mind callously. His eyes focus closely on the road ahead, watching as the road merges into an intersection, traffic suddenly cleared, the traffic lights off. Wooyoung doesn't think too much into it, placing his hand on his e-brake as he pulls it upright, turning the wheel quickly as the car's rear end swivels outward, following the pull of gravity before Wooyoung shifts the car again, pressing on the gas to steer it forwards again.

Wooyoung listens as the cars behind him give chase easily, swerving around the bend with ease that seem unnervingly practiced. He glances at the mirrors, watching as the cars begin to close in, speeding up with rapid intent as the straightaway opens widely ahead of them. All of the traffic that was normally dancing around this part of Seoul had been empty, nearly barren, leaving this chase free to cause chaos as loudly as possible. They were told not to drag the attention of the police back towards the casino, but Wooyoung wasn't quite sure how that'd be possible, considering that they were the only cars visible on this roadway right now.

So, he shifts gears again, pushing his car harder, faster; doing everything possible to remain ahead of these two other men who loomed closer with every passing breath.

"Pass two traffic lights, then turn right again. You'll see a back alley appear on the left after the turn; take it. The police have been notified of your activity, so we need to disappear from the main roads. Things may get a little. . . rough." Seonghwa laughs quietly through the ear piece, his voice crackling out before shifting into silence. Wooyoung takes in a breath, shaking his head unenthusiastically.

"Fucking ridiculous," he mutters under his breath, switching gears again with a flick, glancing up at his mirror. The car to his left, the one that seemed to be faster than the other and red in color, suddenly sped forward, a loud roar bellowing from the engine as he soared past Wooyoung with intense speed. Wooyoung curses under his breath again, pressing on the gas harder, giving chase in the only way he knew how to.

They speed beneath a traffic light, now approaching the second, but this one was turned on. Wooyoung watches as it shines green light down onto the pavement below before suddenly flicking crimson red, signaling for traffic to move in the opposite direction. Wooyoung hesitates, just for a moment, watching as cars begin to move into the intersection unsuspectingly, completely oblivious to the racing cars approaching at a rapid pace. His hand moves to the e-brake, eyes shifting to observe the red car as he taps on his brakes before blowing his horn, alerting all of the innocent civilians to the incoming turn.

The traffic continues, some cars pausing, others continuing without fret, which in turn causes the red car to slam on their brakes, screeching to a halt with white smoke fleeing from behind. However, Wooyoung spots an opportunity. There was an opening, a brief lapse that he knew he could make because of the red car's newly forged hesitance, and with his current speed and positioning, he'd have to thread the needle of possibility.

With a huff, Wooyoung approaches the intersection first, steering right before pulling up his e-brake, feeling as the car begins to swing out from its rear. Wooyoung watches, feeling his heart thump away in his chest, praying and hoping that his intuition was correct. The traffic was completely paused now, blaring their horns, shouting indistinct warnings of sorts, flashing their brights at the speed racers who dared to interrupt their evening commute. But Wooyoung didn't care. The car moved through the intersection with ease, just barely missing another car in passing before Wooyoung slammed back down on the gas, popping the e-brake back into place as he shifted his car once more, listening to the engine respond immediately.

He glances up, looking in the mirror and watching as one of the opposing cars, which had been silver in color, began to drift behind the red car but had misjudged the turn. The car drifted with a screech, slamming into the side of a civilian's car, smacking into it with glass shattering on impact. However, the silver car kept going, correcting itself and steering straight, staying true to the mission as it followed the red car a bit slower than before.

Wooyoung carefully guides his car into the alley, following through with the instructions given as his tires carry the vehicle over the curb and against the cracked pavement, feeling as the suspension in his car bounces with each bump, followed by an array of loudening thuds. Wooyoung's grip tightened around the wheel, his knuckles whitening as each second brought him closer to the destination, but with the glare of enemy headlights brightening in his rearview mirror, he couldn't help but feel uneasiness travel through his core.

"Turn right," Seonghwa commanded with a hum, almost as if he was completely unbothered and uninterested. "The destination will be at the end of your street. And by the way–" he pauses, an audible smile traveling through his words, "–the police will be there any minute now."

Wooyoung taps his breaks, spotting the alley nearing an end as he prepares to drift yet again, but the red car behind him doesn't seem to slow down. Wooyoung feels as his car is suddenly thrust forwards, the back end being rammed into by the grill of the red car.

"Aish–!" Wooyoung curses, hitting his gear shift back into drive before he reaches for the e-brake, hearing the impending sound of nearing sirens. "This is fucking bullshit!"

With a swift movement, Wooyoung pushes the e-brake upwards, sending the tail of his car spinning as he veers off to the right, listening to the vibrations of the engine roar as he switches back into manual, pushing the car into another gear.

He can see the faint red and blue shimmers of lights bouncing on and off of the building behind him, coming closer with each faint, trembling breath. Beyond the haze of lights and shrouding darkness, Wooyoung can see the visible outline of the warehouse. It was large, emphasized by the beams of the brightening moon, revealing huge, barren crates and wooden palettes, fixed with a chain link fence that was broken in several different locations. Each detail, vivid and somewhat blurred, came closer into focus as his car sped dangerously fast towards the gate that hung loosely by its hinges.

Wooyoung glances up, watching as the red car veers off to the left, making a move to pass after gaining a splitstream off of his car. With a laugh, Wooyoung shakes his head, looking down to glance at the gearshift of his car, his eyes focused on that of a small blue switch.

"Oh, how stupid you are," Wooyoung smiles, looking up, gripping the steering wheel tighter as the red car comes up to his sideview mirror, preparing to speed past before he switches the lever upwards, feeling the nitrous tank in the rear of his car suddenly burst to life. With a growl, the car surges forwards at an intense speed, moving well out of the way of the red car's possible chance to score victory in crossing the theoretical finish line.

The red car loomed further and further into the distance, the silver car now catching up and passing the red car too, leaving Wooyoung to trail even further ahead, shining the high beams of his headlights onto the fence itself. He flies over the curb, allowing his car to roll into the empty lot of the warehouse before stomping on his break gently, coming to a clean stop in the back, away from prying eyes.

The sirens grow louder, the headlights of the other cars flashing to his left, coming to a halt well out of sight of the law. Wooyoung freezes, taking in a breath, listening as the earpiece crackles with laughter on the other line.

"Congrats, greenie–" Seonghwa hums, chuckling still. "Drop the package off at the warehouse doors and come back to the casino. We need to have a chat."

Wooyoung looks down, spotting his shaking hands, feeling the rush of adrenaline coarse through his skin and ripple through his veins. He takes a breath, pausing, listening as the other men get out of their cars with no hesitation, moving towards their trunks to unveil whatever package Seonghwa had placed into their cars. With a slow movement, he opens his door, slamming it shut as he gets out, popping open his trunk with his keys as he turns the corner of his car, his eyes widening at the sight of said delivery.

It was a fucking bomb.

He hesitates, just for a moment, trying to pretend that he wasn't phased by the audacity of such a gesture, but he swallows it. He hides away the unease crawling over his spine like a spider thickening its web, picking up the sides of the duffle bag surrounding the device, closing it, and taking the handles into his grasp. He's careful, slamming the trunk and carrying the bag towards the large, looming warehouse garage door, setting it down on the ground nearby the other two bags. Wooyoung says nothing to the other two men, but he offers a glance, studying their faces and allowing their expressions to settle into his memory, acknowledging that this very well might be the last time he ever saw them.

But, he turns, moving back towards his car and settling inside, starting the engine once more just as the sirens of distant police suddenly dissipated into the evening mist. He takes one more glance, looking into his mirrors, watching as the other males went back to their cars without a word, barely acknowledging the other, acting as if they had done this routine time and time again.

Wooyoung reaches into his center council, shuffling around until he finds the familiar edges of his personal phone, using a trembling hand to find his messages, tapping on Mingyu's name, beginning to type out a short message.

We need to talk.

He listens as the gravel and pavement crunch beneath the other car's tires, leaving him to discard his phone back into the council, clasping it shut and putting his car into drive, moving to follow behind the line of other cars.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎. . .⋙

The ride back to the casino was silent. Wooyoung watched the taillights of the car ahead of him, blurring with the unease of what was to follow this delivery. It was weird, knowing that there was a consequence to possibly become of all of this. Seonghwa seemed adamant about recruiting someone for said deliveries, but Wooyoung couldn't anticipate that they'd be handing off bombs to other warehouses.

What was Choi San's game? What was the reasoning behind all of this? Surely there was an explanation for such behavior, but Wooyoung truly couldn't connect the dots. He's seen cruel men behave wildly when they were in search of something, seeking to protect things they valued and somehow cherished within the confines of their "impenetrable" fortress. This, however, was just strange.

Choi San had no one, at least, that was what the file on Mingyu's computer read. He had no kids, no spouse, no siblings; just parents in a large estate with a mound of cash that began to fund all of his criminal activity. There was something sitting beneath the surface, looming like a shark with its fin breaking through the ripping tide. He was on the hunt, on the prowl for a victim, gaining ground on every part of Seoul to have it within his reach.

A kingpin, as he was proclaimed, the head of his business, a cruel monster leading a group of merciless crew members to try and stake claim to Seoul and its tumultuous grounds. Wooyoung could feel the tides shifting, ever so slightly, favoring on the edge of San's unforgiving presence, stealing away the stability that came with the infrastructure of law and politics. San wanted to unveil everything, to bring down the corporations and slaughter their politicians. He wanted unruly order, to make the world something he envisioned, controlling the police and paying those in power, acting as a leader from the shadows without ever having to step into the limelight.

He was faceless for a reason, and would remain that way. He was terrifying in that sense, and just knowing that his reach extended well past the confines of a usual criminal drove Wooyoung to a further resolve of ending this cartel long before they could play into their plans of complete control.

As they reapproached the casino, Wooyoung followed the line of cars with a careful bout of hesitance, pulling back into the same parking space and killing the engine, pausing in his seat before he heard the familiar slams of other car doors from behind him. Wooyoung glances at his mirrors before he exits his car, abandoning his belongings within his vehicle with his keys in hand, walking to the tail of his car as he spots Seonghwa reapproaching, a wide smile on his lips that suddenly pulls flat. His eyes flicked to and fro, moving from person to person, studying the faces of those who were all appearing before him.

"Well done," Seonghwa says, his eyes moving to intently glance at Wooyoung, taking a moment to study the rear of Wooyoung's car before smiling slightly, almost in the shift of a smirk. "Your car took a beating, huh?"

"Not by choice," Wooyoung mutters, but he shrugs, unbothered. "Just a scuff. I can still outrun anyone, including these two."

"You sound arrogant," Seonghwa replies.

"Maybe I'm just confident. I can't help that," Wooyoung retorts, folding his arms against his chest. Seonghwa scoffs, nodding his head. He turns, looking to the other two more rugged-looking men, tilting his head slightly before gesturing with his hand.

"You ran into a civilian. You lack control," Seonghwa says, raising a brow. "Explain that to me."

The male from the silver car stands tall, his tone confident, though the undertones of his nerves radiated through. "I misjudged the turn by a few inches, and it cost me time. Hitting someone wasn't my intention."

"I don't care if it was your intention or not. You traded paint with another car. Paint can be tracked by their VIN number, down to the model and make, isolated by a license plate. You could lead the police straight to our operation," Seonghwa mutters, his tone growing increasingly intimidating. "We can't have that."

"It won't happen again–" the male comments, but it was clear that Seonghwa was having none of it.

Wooyoung can barely blink before Seonghwa pushes his clothing aside, pulling a gun from the back of his waist, clicking off the safety with practiced ease. The male freezes, eyes widening, hands pushing upwards; but his submission was far too late. Seonghwa pulls the trigger, sending the male tumbling to the ground, lifelessly crumbling to his knees until he lays flat on his face.

Wooyoung flinches, just barely, remaining still even though his heart was racing against his chest. He knew there'd be consequences, possibly a reprimand for an accident, but this– there was nothing in his mind that could've possibly connected the pieces to this darkening puzzle.

"Your actions–" Seonghwa starts, lowering the gun, "–have consequences, and we don't make mistakes here. The boss will have none of that. Do I need to repeat myself?"

Wooyoung shakes his head, glancing down, trying to ignore the lifeless male off to his left.

"As for you, red car," Seonghwa begins, moving his free hand to point at the tail end of Wooyoung's car, gesturing to the damage that was dealt. "Careless. How are we to trust you to not damage precious cargo to a team car that's in front of you? How can the boss, who expects a great deal from those that he chooses to employ, trust you to handle anything? It's reckless."

"He slowed down unexpectedly–!" The male argues, but Wooyoung raises his brows, almost in shock that this blame was coming from someone who practically rode his ass down the thin stretch of an alley, giving himself little room to react to an upcoming turn.

"Did you not hear me, green?" Seonghwa warns, raising the gun. "You are at fault. End of discussion."

"It's not my fucking fault that this dumbass can't fucking drive–!"

Before another word can be ushered, Seonghwa pulls the trigger, and the man tumbles to the ground, leaving Wooyoung to glance away, remaining fairly expressionless to the blood splattered around him.

"Well," Seonghwa says with a breath, clicking the safety back on. "Now that that's handled–"

Wooyoung straightens his posture, tilting his gaze upwards, watching two other figures approach Seonghwa from behind, presumably Minho and Hongjoong again.

"Let's go head inside, shall we?" Seonghwa asks, retucking the gun back to where he had hidden it before. Wooyoung offers a nod, twirling his car keys in his hand before pocketing them, taking an uneasy step forwards as Seonghwa turns around.

"Deal with the bodies," Seonghwa mutters to Minho and Hongjoong, gesturing leisurely with his hand. "I've got our new driver figured out."

Wooyoung makes brief eye contact with Hongjoong and Minho both as they study him, but before he can truly settle into the intense stares from either male, they look away, pulling black gloves from their pockets and sliding them onto their hands, walking past him and towards the lifeless corpses nearby. Wooyoung turns over his shoulder, studying the scene before he turns away, choosing to forget the chaos of what had just unfolded and rather focusing on what was to come.

Seonghwa's steps are light, almost bounced, his hair shimmering beneath the gleam of street lamps as they move through the parking lot without a word. Wooyoung studies the scene around him, taking note of other cars and cameras laden around the casino's walls, looking for any sort of opening; anything that would benefit the agency later on as a contingency plan.

Though, the further they walk, Wooyoung begins to notice that the entire complex was covered in thick layers of security, making infiltration a difficult task. After inspecting all of this from a distance, he could begin to understand why Mingyu insisted on an inside job rather than their usual tactics, seeing that this job required more than just patience and a silenced pistol.

Seonghwa veers off to the right, moving towards a door that leads into the casino, holding it open as Wooyoung follows him inside. It was a back room, laden with storage boxes and shelves, something that looked rather inconspicuous yet felt anything but. Seonghwa continues forward, moving through an open doorway before he turns to the left, stopping at a door that was labeled employees only. He raises his hand, knocking twice, listening as the other side of the door unlocks, peering open slightly before a voice rings out.

"Took you long enough," the voice jests, a scoff following suit before the door opens widely. The male, who had been tall and laden with tattoos, fitted with darker hair and earrings, smiled widely at Seonghwa in a familiar conversation filled with teasing.

"Enough, Mingi, where's the boss?"

"In his throne," Mingi replies, his eyes moving to glance at Wooyoung. He studies him briefly, his head tilting back slightly as his eyes lull; it seemed almost as if he was pleased with seeing someone new to the place. Or as if he was a predator staring down fresh meat.

"He's been stuck there all day," Seonghwa breathes out, walking forward, glancing behind him and gesturing for Wooyoung to follow. "I'll show you to your room, then we'll go and meet the boss."

Wooyoung nods, choosing to keep his words drowned beneath the surface, following Seonghwa through the small, narrow corridor that slowly moves into a staircase. Together, they descend the stairs, moving deeper into the underground of the casino, unfurling a new place that had been completely contrasting to its aboveground counterpart. This facility was laden in new technology, colored in rich reds and steel, accented in white and black, the walls framed with pictures and mementos from a family tree that Wooyoung remained ill-advised of. Each and every detail seemed intentional, almost as if this was a home away from a true home. It was a running business, filled with employees, boxes, supplies and guns, but beyond all of that, there were several rooms occupied by those who chose to devote themselves to this group, living here as if it had been all they knew.

Wooyoung could hear voices in the distance, bouncing off the halls and cabinets that adorned the open rooms they passed. But before long, Seonghwa turns down a hall, gesturing to a door that had been within an inlet of walls, isolated away from the main stretch.

"This is your quarters. We care not for what you do in here, how you decorate it, how you make it feel like your place. What you do beyond this door is of your own will. But let it be known, if you hide something from us, we will always find it. Understand?" Seonghwa says, standing with his arms folded, raising his brow.

"I understand," Wooyoung replies, glancing at the door before returning his gaze to Seonghwa.

"I'll send someone to grab your belongings from your car before they transfer it to our underground garage, just to keep police scanners off of our tail–" Seonghwa looks at the door before holding his hand out, looking back at Wooyoung. "Give me your keys."

Wooyoung hands over his car keys, refusing to bat an eye and choosing to remain calm, placing his hands within his pockets to submerge his subtle anxiety to the back of his tongue.

"Alright," Seonghwa says, smiling as he closes his fist around Wooyoung's keys. "Let's go meet the boss."

Seonghwa turns, guiding Wooyoung through the halls and corridors of their base, traveling with an ease that came with a light hum. He seemed carefree and yet so serious, a complete contrast to the male that had appeared before him just minutes ago. He had turned into a cold-blooded killer on the flip of a dime, and now he acted as if his previous actions held no weight. He didn't care, even in the slightest. Wooyoung tries to study his surroundings as he walks, but he can't help but focus on the tune vibrating off of Seonghwa's tongue. He was humming a familiar tune, something that was both calming and utterly unnerving.

Before them appears two very large, grand doors. The guards that had been stationed there open the doors without hesitance, glancing down as Seonghwa passes through, closing it automatically as Wooyoung passes through the threshold. The room was dark, wall lights cast down at painted portraits of people who must've meant something to this cartel long before the boss himself took over as king.

A subtle growl emits from the space before him, and all Wooyoung can do is pause in his steps.

There before him lay a deep velvet red throne, accented with gold, sat before a desk with a large painting hung behind him. The lamp on the desk illuminated the paperwork and files cast askew on the surface, highlighting the disarray of one's mind that only made Wooyoung grow even more curious. His eyes traveled down to a black and tan doberman, sitting down beside the desk, its ears erect and listening, a gold chain hung loosely from its neck. The dog's lips were pulled back in a snarl, but he remained seated on his rear, stationed in place as the male behind the desk set down a heavy glass of whiskey with a quiet thud.

"Seonghwa–" he bellows. "Who did you bring me now?"

Wooyoung can feel his heart pulse in his throat, his breath seizing, caught up in the dangerous gaze that stared over the wooden desk with an intimidating smirk. His eyes were dark, glimmering with mischief and intent, though his voice was husky enough to draw allure. Wooyoung stands still, unable to pull his eyes away from the man behind the desk, unable to place a name to the face of who he was truly looking at.

"Your new delivery boy. Isn't he pretty?" Seonghwa comments, turning on his heel, watching Wooyoung with a smirk.

The man behind the desk smiles, leaning back in his seat, reaching for his glass of whiskey once more. He raises the glass to his lips, tilting it slowly, his jaw sharp in the low light, and yet his gaze was nearly glued to that of Wooyoung's own.

His heart thumps away against his chest, saliva settling over his tongue as he stands there, seemingly a deer lost in the headlights of an oncoming car. He didn't know what to say, where to move, nor if he could even breathe.

The male lowers his glass, setting it back down, not once ever removing his gaze as his eyes sharpened. As he leans forwards, his elbows settled on the wood of his desk, the light suddenly graces his hardened features. The cut of his brows, the jut of his jaw, the sharp glimmer of emptiness glued to his irises; all complimenting the large, expensive-looking coat held against his shoulders, hiding away the crisp white shirt laden beneath. Golden rings adorned his clasped hands, his knuckles bruised from a battle that seemed external, though Wooyoung had a feeling it was far more than just that. Tattoos crawled up his skin, beginning from his wrists, disappearing beneath his sleeves, moving to wind their way up to his neck. They peaked out, just barely, an act of tease as the light continued to lavish his skin with a tender, alluring embrace.

His hair was slicked back, short and black, tailored perfectly to accentuate the sharpness of his features. He looked exactly like his illuminated picture, but even that in itself hardly did the male any justice. He was muscular in stature, his shoulders wide and robust, somehow barely fitting into the jacket that lay overtop. The huskiness of his tone seemed to match the inner depth of his darkened heart and scarred exterior, making Wooyoung truly question if any remnants of a beating heart lay beneath.

Wooyoung can't breathe. He can't move and he can't fathom the words simmering on the back of his tongue. He can feel Seonghwa's eyes on him, and most of all, he can hear the beating of his own heart thumping away within the pulse of his throat, standing still and refusing to allow his fear to simmer above the surface.

But this male, this man– Wooyoung knew who this was before Seonghwa's devious tone could even bear to speak it.

"Jung Wooyoung–" Seonghwa says, gesturing with his hand as he points to the stoic, intimidating figure, a smirk curled on his lips as he continues to speak with quiet vigor. "Meet the king of the Crimson Cartel. . . Choi San."