⋆.˚⭒⋆ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ'ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎. . .⋙

[■■■■■■■■■■] 100% ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ.

A week passes.

Wooyoung had been avoiding social aspects of the mafia like the plague. He didn't much leave his room, scrounging through data on his laptop without the slightest chase after sleep, compiling evidence for Yeosang in order to pinpoint allegations against his old coworkers. He had a stockpile of data against everyone inside of the agency, even people in a position higher than Mingyu himself. He wasn't completely sure if this route was the best to trek on, especially if he sought to take Mingyu down, but whatever he had to do in order to gain San's trust back, he'd do it.

San had been gone as of late, disappearing into meetings, leaving the compound with Mingi and Yunho, seeking more information about the data chip that he had been after for a time too long. Wooyoung wasn't entirely sure how they were going to steal such an item, as the chip itself was locked away inside of a government facility. San wasn't the type to be afraid, however, as he'd go through every single possibility until he knew he could or couldn't pull it off. The government, if anything, was scared of San, as the power he held was greater than anything they could truly ever imagine.

Wooyoung watched everything from the sidelines. The kitchen, a harbor to his thoughts these days, provided a cut off from everyone else, even despite the lack of walls surrounding it. He could hear the chatter from the living space just beyond the island counters, chatting and laughing about everything and nothing in particular. It wasn't that Wooyoung disliked the members of the mafia, quite the opposite, really. He just. . . felt out of place. He came from a completely different background, one that ruled with discipline and pain, trifled with trauma and an abundance of loneliness. Being in a group that was as close-knit as this was far from everything he knew.

Even now, sitting and waiting in the meeting room with his left leg crossed over the other, he finds himself staring off into space, eyes tracing the lines of the pictures hung within the large room. They were awards of some kind, of a time long ago before San traveled the path of blood and merciless ruling. Wooyoung didn't know what for, but he assumed it was something political, something with gain and power, only to help elevate what he had amassed thus far.

Hyunjin was to his right, typing something on his laptop with a curved furrow to his brow, sorting through images and codes that Wooyoung couldn't recognize. And to his left, was Changbin. Ever the entertainer in Wooyoung's eyes, Changbin sat cradling a soda can in his right hand, talking expressively with Jisung, who sat closely next to Minho. Yunho and Mingi stood near the far wall, talking about something, Mingi nursing a mug of steaming coffee while they conversed, while Seonghwa and Hongjoong sat closest to the head of the table, leaving Jongho and Yeosang to sit nearby wordlessly. Yeosang had a look in his eyes, a glimmer of something that Wooyoung couldn't quite place just yet, but he had a feeling that after all of the information he had spent relatively three days gathering without sleep, that the male was beyond exhausted, but determined.

Suddenly, the door opens, slightly creaking on its silver hinges as San steps inside, wearing his usual gold and black-framed lenses, wearing an impeccably-fitting suit jacket. The white shirt, laid just underneath, was form-fitting, just barely concealing the build beneath a simple layer of cotton. Wooyoung felt his jaw grow tight in just watching him, wondering how his presence could be so enigmatic, challenging, and commanding all at once. How could someone truly ever command attention and demand respect, without needing to utter a single word?

Whatever the hell it was, Wooyoung was under San's spell, and that was surely a future that wouldn't change.

"Alright," San begins, not really moving his gaze away from the manilla folder between his fingertips, laid open, likely full of information that had San concealed from the world for days on end. "Seoul's inner-government building, The Matriarch of Society, as they refer to it as. . . we're finally going to get the data chip."

Seonghwa, who was closest to San, was the only one who made any sort of visible reaction to that statement. His eyes widened, if only slightly, just barely noticeable to anyone who would've paid close enough attention, but he said nothing in terms of protest.

"The Hellraiser, as it's called, is an SPC-4200 data receiver that will pull information from every single government office within a specified range, unless tuned into another network, then it can control the world," San continues, setting the folder down with a soft slap to the long table, standing before his crew, hands sliding into the pockets of his dress slacks. "I want it. Not for the sake of ruling the world; I'm no mastermind, however. . . my parents, their business, the government. . . it's all going to be mine."

"Damn right," Mingi chimes in, earning a slight smile from San in return.

"Now, listen closely. I'm only explaining the route once. The details once. You all have one chance to get this correct to take the chip, or it's a bust, and you all know me– I don't lose." San scans the room, his eyes not lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he steps back, clicking a button on the bottom of the table as a 3D image of the government building comes into view, just like a realistic blueprint, illuminated by blue LEDs.

"The datachip resides in the innermost part of the office. Down the stairs, behind some sort of security that's practically child's play, followed by a long hallway and a very secure door. There's no guards down here, however, there are cameras. Everywhere. Facial recognition, badge alignment within certain timestamps, clock-ins and clock-outs; the whole nine yards. They've played a careful hand in crafting a system that feels rather fool-proof, meaning no one should be able to get in, or get out. Lucky for us, Yeosang found a backdoor, a way for us to infiltrate the system without anyone batting an eye."

Just as San steps back, Yeosang rises from his seat, taking a breath inwards as he gestures towards the electronic map, a sudden red line zooming throughout the blueprint, almost like a diagram of one's path to take.

"We all have roles, carefully chosen and designed to make sure that everything goes according to plan. Minho and Hyunjin, the both of you will take the police car we had stolen a few days ago and act as a perimeter check. You'll have badges that have already been inserted into their system as Internal Security Guards, so no one will look at you differently. The security guards that were scheduled have been dealt with, taken off their shifts, so it's all up to you two to keep everyone at bay." Yeosang then glances at San, who clicks another button, which causes the diagram to shift and turn, showing locations of the outdoor perimeter. "Wooyoung and Changbin, the two of you are in the getaway vehicle. Jisung has been working on an Audi RS with tinted windows to cover your faces. Once the data chip is secure, the two of you will exit with the public flow of traffic, protected and overseen by Hyunjin and Minho, before you get in the car and escape with the backside route, not on any highways. Stay out of sight, wear dark caps, in-ears, everything. You two are to be in and out, no questions asked."

Wooyoung nods, as does Changbin, who was now leaning back into his chair, arms folded against his chest as he listened. Wooyoung was relieved, at least a little bit, to be with the one person he had found some sort of friendship with, as he was sure if he was paired with anyone else, it'd be just. . . weird.

"Lastly, Hongjoong and Seonghwa will get into the security offices as quickly, and as quietly, as they can. We need to insert my own data chip into their servers, and once that's done, everything we've discussed will go to plan. I'll stay here to run the operation from my chair, monitoring everything to make sure nothing slips through the cracks. As for San, Yunho and Mingi–" Yeosang sighs, gesturing towards San as the diagram in the middle of the table hovers, rotating slowly within its own digital orbit. "There is to be no entry on your part. Yunho and Mingi can enter the building to cause a scene if necessary, a somewhat. . . debilitating distraction, if you will. San will monitor communications from the car, safe and out of sight. If the government officials sense anything is off, or if they see San, the mission is over. We'll be toast before we know it."

Wooyoung watches Yeosang for a moment as he uses his hand to spin the diagram, beginning to point out the cameras, entry and exit points, while also highlighting areas where security may be tougher than others. Though, his eyes begin to shift, lingering on the one person in the entire room he couldn't have.

San.

He stood there, hands resting behind his back, his gaze focused intently on the diagram as Yeosang continued to explain the intricate, innermost details of the operation. But Wooyoung couldn't listen. All he could see was the past, the way San's eyes slowly began to soften the more time they spent together, the way his hands would so gently caress parts of his body, as if he were a living piece of art within the kingpin's gallery. Or, maybe it was the way that San began to let his walls down, piece by piece, lowering and gentling his tone down, only for Wooyoung. Whatever it was, it was resonating loudly. Shimmering, really. Wooyoung couldn't escape these thoughts even if he tried. Yet, he pulled his eyes away, a burdening, sharp and painful feeling settling over his chest as he sat there, trying to ignore how much it felt like his heart was breaking.

He needed to remain professional, to be a part of the team, to prove to San that he was changing. But at what cost? Was this really worth it? Was all of this effort, all of these swallowed emotions, really, truly worth the price just to be with someone who clearly didn't want him?

It could be a waste of time, he told himself, over and over again like some sort of negative monologue on a consistent, terrible loop. Or, he begins, maybe this is the beginning of something new. Something built on steadier trust than before.

And somehow, he convinces himself, once more, that this was just an off-road, bumpy ride in their journey together. A fork in the road, Wooyoung supposes. It wasn't forever, just. . . for now. Even if the 'for now' part killed him on the inside.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎. . .⋙

The outside world felt still, almost as if the entire planet had been holding its breath. Everything had led to this. The lies, the trials, the paperwork, all of the collected data; everything San had worked towards finally led to this very moment.

The data chip, a device hidden away from the public eye for a specific reason, for the sake of control and confidentiality, all to keep their citizens unaware of the power that lay just beneath the surface. The data chip could conquer an entire government if it ended up in the wrong hands, tampering with technology and sending everything into a spiral of chaos. San, on the other hand, wanted the device for nothing more than to send his parents and their family business right back into the ground, just as they deserved.

Wooyoung didn't know everything, as he wasn't entirely sure that he was meant to know everything, but something about the way San had been so determined to get rid of his parents spoke volumes to just how vile and toxic his family must've been. San, albeit impulsive with harsher edges, didn't seem to be a mere fraction of what his parents claimed for him to be. And that, in Wooyoung's eyes, made all the difference.

Now, laden in darker gear, Wooyoung sat in the front seat of his car, one hand gripping the steering wheel, listening to the engine die the moment he turned the keys in the ignition. Changbin was to his right, looking curiously at the building that stood stark before them. It was tall, based and built with cream limestone and brick, fashioned with black windows and large encompassing sculptures that not even Wooyoung could decipher. Were they men? Men on horses, at that? And. . . why did they appear more Greek than anything else?

Wooyoung, in all of his curiosity, kept trailing his eyes over the faintest details, all the way from the security cameras, the glare of the windowpanes, the way the doors were held open by stoppers, all the way until he spotted two familiar faces standing front and center near the front door. Hyunjin and Minho.

The plan was in motion. The internal security was down, hence why the building called for the only on-duty officers nearby to come and clear the perimeter. Hyunjin and Minho walked in confidently, averting as many gazes as they could, passing through the front doors without a hitch. Wooyoung took a breath inwards, trying to calm his nerves as he watched from afar, all to be interrupted by Changbin's quiet voice.

"The fuck are those statues supposed to be representing?"

Wooyoung tried to stifle a laugh, turning to gaze at him. "Power?"

"Power, my ass. They don't look good. Whoever did them really needs to learn a lesson in sculpting."

"I think you need a lesson in subtlety, my dear friend."

"Please," Changbin scoffs. "You're the one eye-fucking San all the time. Look in the mirror, Woo. At least I'm not a hopeless sap in love with a cold-hearted brute."

Wooyoung immediately snaps his gaze towards Changbin, who had already been laughing by the time Wooyoung's lips parted to respond.

"You mother fucker–"

"Stop it!" Changbin insists, waving Wooyoung off as he tries to watch the main doors. "It's almost our cue. Hongjoong and Seonghwa arrived."

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, leaning back into his seat, folding his arms against his chest. "Fine. You owe me a drink later. That is, if I don't throw it in your face."

"Aw, baby–" Changbin coos playfully, "don't be like that!"

"Call me that again–" Wooyoung swears, cutting himself off as he mockingly raises a fist towards Changbin. "I'll beat your ass."

"Alright, alright, hard ass. I can see why you're in love with such a tough guy. Bad boy vibe is totally your type."

Wooyoung, once more, huffs, slouching in his seat as he adjusts the in-ear placed within his left ear, making sure the cord wasn't caught on his leather jacket.

"You're fucking insufferable. You know that?"

"I've been told a time or two," Changbin mutters, his hand moving to linger on the car's door handle. "It's almost time. Focus up, Woo."

"I am focused," Wooyoung protests, earning the slightest curl of a smile on Changbin's lips as he prepares to open his door.

"Focused on a certain someone's dick–"

"Changbin–!"

"Let's go," Changbin dismisses easily, whipping his door open. "You can beat my ass later."

Wooyoung follows, albeit disgruntled, shoving his keys into his back pocket before tapping the back waistband of his jeans, feeling his gun still tucked away inside. Together, Wooyoung followed Changbin towards the side entrance, away from prying eyes, close enough to the alley where the car would be parked. Wooyoung could feel his heart thumping against his chest, preparing for the adrenaline rush, preparing for anything, even if the mission would go without a single rush of error. Fitting the cap on his head with ease, Wooyoung then slid a medical mask over his face, trying to protect his identity as Changbin followed suit, walking a few steps behind Wooyoung as they prepared to make entrance. Wooyoung veered off to the left immediately, steering himself towards the bathrooms as Changbin hovered near an ATM machine, scanning the area just as Hyunjin and Minho appeared in the center of the room.

The main area was a grand foyer with large ceilings and a glimmering, golden chandelier. Marble and limestone composed the staircases and flooring, freshly polished and cleaned from a late night janitor the evening before, laden with wooden seating and decorative planters. Wooyoung adjusts his mask carefully, taking a breath inwards as he looks around the bustling interior, watching Hyunjin and Minho carefully before casually leaning against the nearby wall, reaching a hand up, tapping on his in-ear.

"We're in," Wooyoung mutters softly, glancing at Changbin, who looked right back at him, nodding subtly. "It's calm. No one suspects a thing."

"Good," San replies, his tone firm, unrelenting. "Hongjoong, Seonghwa; you're up. Don't disappoint."

Wooyoung remains calm, listening to everything bustling around him. Carts being pushed around, people walking, people talking, mindless conversations through the phone, in-person, thoughts spoken out loud; everything was so normal. No one noticed a thing. But Wooyoung, he noticed everything.

Every sound of heels against the floor, the sound of a man begging for money from a bank teller, or the sound of an elderly couple trying to save their mortgage payment from rising due to conflicts they couldn't control. It was everything. This building, as vast as it was in terms of responsibility and need, contained just as many off-hand ventures as it did people. A bank, a vault, people to speak to about government paperwork, court ordinances, as well as the rare complaint following a political race that Wooyoung didn't really give two shits about.

This building contained just as much diversity as the ocean had, and even despite not having been here before, Wooyoung had a feeling that almost everyone in here was the same. Who would come here without it being absolutely necessary?

"We're in," Seonghwa mutters through the ear-piece, his voice slightly filled with static. "Hongjoong is tapping into the mainframe. Yeosang, you'll have access in two seconds."

"Copy," Yeosang replies, the communication cutting off for a moment as an imposed silence breaks through with a crackle of anticipation. Wooyoung knew that everyone knew how to perform their job, how to deliver the best results, but the mere image of having to live through San's wrath a second time just wasn't ideal.

"Got it. You should be in their entire network." Hongjoong relayed, causing Wooyoung to let a slow breath pass through his lips as he glanced upwards, watching the passing crowd with disinterest.

"I'm in. Shutting down their routine security checks now, signing the cameras off, and disarming the alarm that's in the basement corridor. You guys will have full access for ten minutes. Once that window closes, I won't be able to re-open it. Get down there and get the chip."

"You got it boss," Seonghwa replies, starting phase two of their entire operation just as swiftly as the first began.

Wooyoung continues to stand there, pulling up his jacket sleeve to eye his smart watch, glancing at the time, noting the ten minutes the team had to perform their task. Glancing upwards again, Wooyoung begins to memorize a few routes of escape, mapping out the doors, the routes to avoid a cluster of civilians, the best way to grab cover if he needed to in the event of a shoot out. Everything was calculated to an obsessive standard, a method he had learned from the hand of Mingyu himself. By routing a few back-up plans, Wooyoung now had four ways of escape, ways to deceive the enemy, and multiple ways to slip through the cracks without having to hurt anyone that would get in his way. He just had to hope that Changbin, and everyone else, were doing the same thing.

But just as Wooyoung began to lessen his defensive nature, his eyes landed on the familiar faces of people he had seen in a picture frame months ago. They were stoic, commanding, wearing long black coats, their hair slicked back and kept neat and tight, shoes polished, designer jewelry around their necks and wrists; San's parents.

Wooyoung takes a breath inwards, glancing at Changbin, who seemed none the wiser, before looking back towards the suspects in question. Curiously, he watches closer, leaning away from the wall as he strolls over to a nearby bench, his eyes never leaving the two figures as they move closer and closer to a hidden door just off to the right. The door was painted dark, labeled with a Do Not Enter plaque, but just as they had lingered nearby, the door swiftly opened as they were welcomed inside, a yellow manila folder laid in the grasp of Mr. Choi's fingers.

"San–" Wooyoung begins, sitting down on the bench, crossing one leg over the other, trying to remain as inconspicuous as he could.

"What is it?"

"I saw something I think you should know about."

"Spit it out."

"Your parents–" Wooyoung begins, swallowing sharply, watching the door as it closes. "They're here. In a room. Enclosed, completely private, carrying a manila folder that seemed thick. There's gotta be paperwork inside that relates to their business."

San is silent. He doesn't immediately answer, letting the silence between them and everyone else who was listening draw longer and longer. Wooyoung fidgets, hands gripping onto one another as he patiently waits and listens, feeling the tension of the moment seep in through his leather jacket and into his bones.

"Don't engage."

"What–?!"

"You heard what I said, Wooyoung. Do not. Engage. I'm serious. They're dangerous."

"I'm very capable of defending myself," Wooyoung retorts, but San's voice cuts in immediately after, leaving zero room for argument based on the strength of his tone.

"Zero discussion. DO NOT. Stay put. Get the data chip and get out. That's final."

"Copy." Wooyoung sinks further into his seat, raising his wrist to check his watch once more, glancing at the time. Only three minutes had passed, which was good, Wooyoung supposes. But, he hadn't heard anything from Seonghwa or Hongjoong just yet. The clock was racing against them, and even if Yeosang was practically the smartest hacker Wooyoung has come across, even he had his own digital limits. If the government saw the cameras malfunctioning a second time for a ten minute period, their operation would be shut down faster than they could even realize it happening to begin with.

So, Wooyoung sits, and he waits, and waits.

Another few minutes pass before Wooyoung shifts uneasily, glancing at his watch again. Two minutes left.

"Come on," Wooyoung mutters under his breath, glancing up at the surrounding area as he tries to fortify another plan in the event that the pair get stuck down in the basement looking for this damn computer chip.

His eyes travel towards Changbin, who had now shifted to settle near a pillar that rested by a teller's booth, who was dealing with a very angry, and upset client, muttering about money that randomly depleted from her bank account. Wooyoung raises a brow as he tries to ignore the story, but can't help but listen in as the clock ticks on and on and on without another word from his allies.

"We've got it," Seonghwa breathes out suddenly, the sound of something shutting behind him rattling through the ear-piece as he speaks again. "We're out, Yeosang. Turn the system back on in thirty seconds."

Wooyoung lets his head tilt back, the pounding of his heart beginning to lessen just as he lets himself breathe. But, the moment his head tilts back, the door creaks open, and out comes San's parents. Wooyoung snaps his attention discreetly towards the door, pretending to read something on his phone as the brim of his cap hides the direction of his gaze just as another pair of footsteps follow San's parents out of the hidden, private room.

Yeonjun. Mingyu.

Wooyoung's eyes widen, watching as Mingyu shakes hands with San's father, Yeonjun too, shaking hands as if they had just conducted business.

"Uh, San–" Wooyoung says, tapping the device in his ear. "Bigger problem."

"If it involves my parents, leave it alone, Wooyoung. We're almost done here."

"What if it involves my old boss and the man who tried to kill me? What then?"

San is silent, once again, but for not as long as the time previous. "What?"

"Your parents just stepped out of the same room that Mingyu and Yeonjun just did, and now they're shaking hands. They're plotting something, San, and I'd like to bet on everything I own that it has to do with both you and me."

The line is quiet, and it's only then that Wooyoung glances to his left, spotting Hyunjin shifting uneasily near a line of people, his jaw tight, hands resting on his hips, fingers tapping against his belt. Wooyoung could see that the news was making everyone feel the same thing, albeit in different waves and strengths. This was news that none of them could've prepared for, especially given all of the revelations that had come from Wooyoung's sudden betrayal that left a rift between everyone he thought had become not only his allies, but his friends.

"Get the folder."

Wooyoung immediately rises from his seat, adjusting his hat as he moves to where Changbin had been standing previously, leaning against the ATM machine as he listens in on the conversation between Mingyu and Mr. Choi, but nothing of importance had been said. It was a casual comment, something about golf and the money made from a country club nearby; typical banter that no one would turn their attention towards. But Wooyoung wasn't that naive.

As the two groups parted ways, Wooyoung watched the manila folder continue to dangle between Mr. Choi's fingers, walking in tandem with his wife without the slightest clue of something amiss. Mingyu and Yeonjun had disappeared out the front door, their steps trailing into silence as Wooyoung found himself observing the new target, letting his past walk completely away from him.

Following subtly, Wooyoung remains a curious distance away, listening as chatter begins to fog up the channel.

"I'll make sure Mingyu and Yeonjun leave the premises," Minho chimes in, earning a hum of agreement from San.

"Good plan. Changbin, you wait for Seonghwa and Hongjoong before heading towards the car. Wooyoung, get that damn folder. Mingi and Yunho, now's the time to cause a scene, block the exits on the north side of the building; do whatever it takes to stop them from leaving."

"On it," Yunho comments, the sudden sound of a car horn blaring ringing through the long, empty halls of the government offices. Wooyoung follows still, watching as Mr. Choi perks up at the sound of the car horn, but he continues walking, holding his wife's hand as they trek through to the other exit, the one that was closest to the main roadway.

"Exits are closed and blocked, San," Yeosang interjects. "They don't have long, though. Wooyoung, get the folder as discreetly as you can before you get back to the car. Changbin can meet you in the alley across the street. Just do not let anyone see you, especially the Chois."

"On it," Wooyoung mumbles, smoothing out his jacket as he continues to follow the pair through the hall, landing into another lobby, this one much smaller than the previous one, filled to the brim with chaos as Yunho and Mingi cause a dramatic scene, their voices filling the void where any normal chatter would remain. Their voices were raised, yelling and cursing at one another, claiming that one person stole the other's spot in the parking lot, while the other needed to be in line first due to an emergency. Mrs. Choi, who slightly paused as she grew closer to the scene, rolled her eyes as she looked at her husband, none the wiser. Wooyoung smirks in response, watching as Hyunjin appears near the doors.

"Sorry, Sir, we must perform security checks as you leave the lobby due to a new policy issued by our Head." Hyunjin stands between Mr. Choi and the main door now, his voice calm, his expression professional, as seasoned as any man under San's authority should be. Wooyoung waits patiently, watching as the folder dangles between the male's fingers still. He glances around, specifically to the main desk area where the receptionist had just walked away, her voice rising slightly to calm down Yunho and Mingi, who were still yelling at one another. Slyly, Wooyoung reaches behind the desk towards a stack of folders, filled with random files that he wasn't privy to knowing anything about, gripping it firmly in his hand as he watches Mr. Choi set down his belongings on a nearby chair, taking off his long coat, offering it over to Hyunjin as he checked over the item of clothing. Wooyoung waits, listening as Yunho's voice grows louder, catching the attention of Mr. and Mrs. Choi once more, giving him the perfect opportunity to grab the folder from the chair before sliding the other folder where the previous one laid, seemingly untouched.

"Is this really necessary?" Mr. Choi questions darkly, his irritation palpable.

"Unfortunately, it is," Hyunjin returns, handing the male's coat back over. "I just need to see her purse, then you will be on your way."

Suddenly, Mingi dares to throw a punch at Yunho, causing the scene to escalate at just the perfect time. Hyunjin hesitates, eyes darting towards the scene before he glances at Wooyoung, who simply nods to relay that the job was done.

"Sorry, Sir. You're both free to move on," Hyunjin mutters quickly, moving to handle the situation in question as Yunho and Mingi loudly begin to throw curses at one another in front of an entire lobby full of people. Wooyoung waits, watching as Mr. and Mrs. Choi leave through the door, muttering something nasty beneath their breath before he too, moves out of the lobby, pushing the glass door open, taking a breath as he scans the outside world, looking for the alley in question.

Bingo.

He turns to the left, then to the right, spotting a pause in traffic before he jogs across the street, clearing the intersection just as the light turned green once more, blurring him out amongst the chaos of passing cars in indistinct colors and makes. Wooyoung turns into the alley, the folder well within his grasp, labeled with something that he didn't notice at first, but noticed now.

Jung Wooyoung.

"I've got the folder. I'm in position," Wooyoung relays, leaning against the exterior wall of whatever building was nearby. "San–?"

"Go ahead."

"The folder has my name on it," Wooyoung says, listening to traffic pass by, not bothering to remove his gaze from the forged words on the mere outside. "Your parents, my old boss, my ex–"

He pauses, the gravity of the situation now sinking in.

"They're plotting to have us killed."