⋆.˚⭒⋆ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ'ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎. . .⋙

[■■■■■■■■■■] 100% ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ.

Wooyoung didn't sleep. He knew he should've, yet he felt unable to. There was a fear gnawing at the back of his throat, lingering and simmering his gut into a current of unease, stirring awake feelings he hadn't felt since he became a trainee at the agency.

He had laid on his bed for a number of hours, staring at his ceiling, contemplating on reaching out to Yeonjun or Mingyu, just someone, almost in a plea to reel him in away from the isolation he knew he was falling into. But, he had nothing to relay. He's met San, and uncovered an odd family photo, but otherwise, he's come up with nothing. Not yet, anyway.

He knew Mingyu would be pissed if he checked in by saying that he was snooping around and got caught, nearly losing his phone, all while acting like a nervous puppy in front of the man himself. He was acting like a fool, but he had to admit, San just seemed to have that effect on him. There was something about the way he carried himself, an obvious opulence that he couldn't really convince himself to dispel. His aura was overly commanding, but there was something more that Wooyoung could sense just from his eyes alone. An intensity, an unbridled control that he craved to harbor with just the snap of his fingers. He wasn't sure what he was seeking to control, maybe all of Seoul, maybe more political figures or money, but Wooyoung could sense the undercurrent of emotions, thickening in a web of things that he desperately felt himself seeking to understand.

Beyond the mask that San adorned, Wooyoung sensed something more just beneath the surface, lingering and looming, like a shark nearing the surface just before it was about to strike. Wooyoung wanted to study him, to find a routine in his habits, to learn about more intimate details, to truly uncover everything that there was in the folds of San's mind. He wanted to know anything and everything that he could manage, taking it back to relay to his company as they sought to unravel the very fabric of the Crimson Cartel. But, what if it wasn't enough? Mingyu did say that he needed to get close to San by any means, but Wooyoung knew that there was no way that he'd be able to get close enough. Not to mention, Yeonjun wouldn't like the few ideas that strung to the front of his mind as he entertained them, twirling around the mere fantasy of sharing a drink with San, lingering close enough to try and lure him somewhere private.

It wasn't for the rush or thrill of something intimate, but to rather trick him into a place of knowing that San would let his guard down, if for the moment, inebriated and lured into a state of arousal. It would be enough, maybe. He just didn't know San that well. . . yet.

So, he danced with the idea in his mind for a while, maybe an hour or so, weighing the pros and cons of a move that would likely end with his head on a stick in consequence, though, would it be for the greater good? Would killing San truly bring Seoul peace? Wooyoung didn't have an answer for that, which made this decision that much more difficult. He knew that Mingyu chose him for this job because he was cunning and good at manipulation, which he had proved in the past, though his humanity had a way of triggering his mind into a different state of thinking. Morally, all of this was wrong. San was just a human being beyond all of this. He had parents, maybe a little sister of sorts, and an entire family behind him. Was killing him worth the aftermath? Surely there'd be something to come after his death, almost like an uproar or a tactical killing of Wooyoung himself by the members of the cartel. He couldn't know for sure, but just based upon the small intricate details he'd be likely to unfold at this meeting of sorts, he knew, more than anything else, that the members of this cartel wouldn't let San's death go by silently.

As the time slowly began to dwindle, leaving him with less and less time to sit and think, Wooyoung pulled his phone free, his actual phone, leaving his work phone left on his bed, laying face down, ignored and forgotten.

He unlocks his phone, scrolling into his pictures, looking at memories from a past that he could no longer recall. Yeonjun looked brighter and happier in these pictures, less strained with the tribulations of being an agent, no longer stained in the blood that currently came with the delicate signature of his name. He was younger, his boyish charm somehow weaving a gentle smile on Wooyoung's lips even now, making him wonder why he'd ever to agree to be away from him for an unknown amount of time. Of course he missed him, but more than that, he missed how their relationship used to be. A time where they were in the honeymoon phase, exploring the depths and curves of their love, just now finding solid footing before landing in a place where they lived together and tried to envision a future with one another. But now. . . things are hardly the way they used to be.

Yeonjun was colder, stern and strict, placing work duties before any facet of their relationship; unable to find a balance that would work with the lives they pursued. Yeonjun did care, at least, Wooyoung hoped he did. But with their line of work, with the amount of risks they took on a day-to-day basis, Wooyoung couldn't be completely sure as to where their relationship stood. Was he important to Yeonjun? Was he the first thing that Yeonjun thought about on a daily basis? Were they equally worth the effort and time they placed into one another? Would they survive the aftermath of this exact mission?

The thoughts were relentless, arriving in a barrage of intimidating ideals and insults, causing Wooyoung a bit more stress than he'd like to admit. So, carelessly, he taps open his messages, looking at the message he had sent his partner just hours ago. He said he'd contact him soon, leaving him in the dark as he went offline, but his heart ached to be reassured; to just be a human and away from the callous deeds of what he was tasked to do.

Are you awake?

The message was simple, straight to the point, bringing nothing forth other than pure curiosity. It was nearly seven in the morning at this point, so he assumed Yeonjun would be awake, or almost awake at this point considering their usual routine. And, with luck and maybe a bit of surprise, Yeonjun begins typing.

Yeonjun

I didn't expect to hear from you so soon, Woo. You okay?

I'm fine, I just. . . I have an idea, and I need to hear your thoughts on it.

Yeonjun

Thoughts on what?

I need to get close to San, by any means, per Mingyu.

Yeonjun

So what are you proposing?

I just. . . I need to get closer to him. I just don't know how. There's only a few ways I can truly do that.

Yeonjun

Are you asking me for permission to sleep with him? What the hell kind of question is that?

Did I say that?

Yeonjun

It's insinuated. Wooyoung, I swear to God, if you cheat on me, I'll come in there and kill him myself.

I wouldn't ever do that! Who the hell do you take me for?

Yeonjun

What the hell am I supposed to think, Wooyoung? I don't know this guy, nor am I there with you. How can I gauge your feelings on the matter when Mingyu is breathing down your neck and hounding me about everything else?

I get it. I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I just need to trick him. . . and, I don't know, you know how Mingyu is. He's hellbent on ending this.

Yeonjun

I know he is. But at what cost? You need to be smart about this, Wooyoung.

I know I need to be. But getting close to him in order to complete all of this shit is going to be harder than any of us realize. This is a kingpin, a fucking mafia boss, that we're talking about. He has so many people that live in this compound, Yeonjun, that this is going to be nearly impossible.

Yeonjun

Do you remember one of our first missions together? Back in Russia?

Yes? What about it?

Yeonjun

Jeonghan was really smart that day. He used a manipulation tactic to undermine our enemy in order to get in close to him. It seemed innocent to someone without a trained eye, but to you and me, we knew exactly what game he was playing.

So, you're suggesting that I need to do something off the book? To be bolder?

Yeonjun

You surely have caught his attention just by being new, as it is. But, we can't know for sure if you've gained his attention in a good way or in a negative light. We need to shift that. If you find a moment to make a bold decision, take it. It could just be the decisive coin flip to turn the tables in your favor.

Wooyoung pinches his brows together, stuck in a rapture of thoughts. Would that work? Would being openly brazen catch San's eye in a more positive light? Would acting in such a way in regards to an upcoming mission draw more focus onto him, giving him the window he would be in search of?

Maybe you're right. But he and I just met, Jun. How can I be so sure that this idea will prevail?

Yeonjun

You won't know unless you try. Just don't be reckless, Wooyoung.

With a sigh, Wooyoung hovers his thumbs over his electronic keyboard, chewing on his lower lip as he contemplates a response, but he remains unsure.

Yeonjun

I miss you like crazy, Woo. Just be safe. Please.

I know. I miss you, too. I'll be careful, I promise. Just wait for me.

Yeonjun

Always.

With a breath, Wooyoung tosses his phone away, staring back up at the ceiling, taking a moment to simply breathe. This was a lot, and it was overly complicated. But this is exactly what he signed up for. He didn't have parents to really worry himself with, nor did he really have anyone except Yeonjun in his life, so accepting a reality where he'd be committing to an agency that sought to better the very foundation of South Korea as a whole was all he ever ached to know. He couldn't understand how someone like San wanted to ruin it all, to take the entire city hostage and somehow still crave more and more power, having so many people just run amuck beneath the very tip of his fingers. San was the devil, looming with a haze of darkening clouds and crackling thunder, taking whatever he wanted without the mere threat of consequence.

Wooyoung wanted to put an end to all of it. He wanted San's grip to be released, to remove his toxic poison from the very veins of Seoul's heart, extracting every ounce of San's entire essence before he could infect every single city and sub-city that he could reach. His power knew no bounds, but that isn't what terrified Wooyoung, not even in the slightest. It was his lack of humanity, his sheer lack of concern and empathy, the cold demeanor cast in his sharp eyes, lost without a glimmer of anything positive.

He looked like a lone wolf, head of a pack he created of his own volition, scarred and towering above the rest, running his pack like a true dictator with little room for mistake. Even if he had everything that he could've possibly needed, there was a thirst for more, craving anything and everything that he could simply get a hold of. Wooyoung knew he was in the devil's den, lurking around in a careful, tedious manner, struggling to comprehend how Mingyu truly thought anyone could undermine someone who built this entire cartel from the ground up.

San wasn't an idiot. Based on his demeanor and from what Wooyoung had already seen; he was calculated. He was perceptive, watching and studying everything, taking note of smaller details and little discrepancies, making sure that his ship ran smoothly and without fret. Wooyoung, for the most part, could feel the intrigue bleeding off of San from the moment they had made eye contact.

Maybe it was in the tilt of his head, the lull of his eyes or the set of his jaw; but there was something different about San that radiated far from the aura that arose off of Seonghwa and Changbin, or anyone else he had met thus far. San had been studying him, in every single way possible. The way his breaths hitched, the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes averted San's intimidating stare; they were tools, tactics of understanding that Wooyoung knew San would forever compile into a mental folder to store away for later.

He was an outsider, entering into a bonded family of misfits and skilled mafia members, looking into the deeply engraved bonds that he felt that he was nearly intruding into. There were members he hadn't met yet, faces he had seen and studied within Mingyu's files and yet hadn't quite matched to their real-life counterparts. He knew there was information he was missing, and yet, his stomach ached with anything except anticipation. He was nervous as hell, but he'd follow through, just as he was told.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎. . .⋙

After a shower and a change of clothes, Wooyoung finds himself exiting the safety of his room, shoving his pretend-phone into the pocket of his ripped jeans. He can hear faint echoes of footsteps and conversation lingering off to the right, likely coming from the supposed meeting room that San had briefly mentioned yesterday. So, he follows the noise, listening as his sneakers softly greet the floor, barely making any noise over the sound of Wooyoung's ever-racing heart.

He didn't know how many people he was to meet, but he knew there was at least a handful he hadn't properly met. Mingyu's documents were detailed to a terrifying extent, labeling relationships and previous warrants, laden with details that went down to their very birthday and security numbers. San remained as the only one who was nearly untraceable, given that his parents were within a social light he found hard to comprehend. In comparison to his parents, San was like an enigma, a phantom within the limelight, a mere person in a photograph with a little girl Wooyoung hadn't recognized. In all of his research, or rather Mingyu's, no mention of a little girl game into the fold. He couldn't be sure if it was his daughter, his sister, or just a random relative who just so happened to be present for a photo. But, now that Wooyoung thinks about it, he never found out the reason as to why San went rogue and turned away from his parents, claiming stake to an empire so large that it intimidated everyone else, except for the likes of his own family.

But, even as he turned the corner, he spotted an open door just down the corridor, the light from inside flooding outwards, drawing Wooyoung even closer to the noise and ambiance. As he approaches, he can hear the familiar sounds of Seonghwa's voice, along with quiet laughter from Changbin, or so he assumed as much. Crossing over the threshold, Wooyoung notices the group of faces he must've been missing, trying to place names over everyone as they all turned to look at him, confused and mostly intrigued.

"Good morning, Wooyoung," Seonghwa greets, setting down the cup of coffee he held in his hands, allowing the ceramic to greet the large, dark oak table ahead of him. "Glad to see you're on time."

Wooyoung bows his head slightly, wetting his lips before his eyes dart upwards, looking to cast across the faces of people he hadn't met yet, even if he tried to place names to faces.

"I wouldn't dare to be disrespectful," he replies, watching as Seonghwa's lips slowly curve into a smile. "Besides, what first impression am I to make if I'm late?"

"I see," Seonghwa hums, nodding his head slightly. The long locks of his hair were slightly tied back while a few strands framed his face, wearing an expensive-looking black button-up, his blazer hanging on the back of his chair. A male he had seen the night before sat next to Seonghwa, watching him with a curious smile, almost as if he was feeding into the conversation silently.

"You'll get to meet everyone eventually, but for now, take a seat. San will be arriving any minute." Seonghwa's gaze locks with Wooyoung's for a moment before he looks away, focusing on a mound of paperwork settled near his seat.

Wooyoung takes a breath inwards, briefly running a hand through his hair as he moves to find an empty seat, which coincidentally was settled next to Changbin. The familiar face, though recent, was somehow calming to him, lessening the burden of having to memorize names and faces when he already had to deal with San's obnoxious glare that would appear from the other side of the room.

The moment San enters into the space, the room falls into silence. Everyone moves into their seats, quietly and without the utterance of a word, giving San their full attention as he maneuvers to the head of the table. Wooyoung watches him, shifting his gaze from the table, then to the man that stood ahead of him, composed and utterly authoritative.

He was wearing a snug button-up, his blazer fitted around the broadness of his shoulders, accentuating the watch on his wrist and the chain around his neck, not to mention the slight golden glimmer of each of his rings flickering back at him. Wooyoung leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on his lap, waiting for the words simmering on the edge of San's tongue.

"You all have met Park Seungjae," San begins, his jaw tightening as he studies the gazes around the room. "We were business partners, someone who was laid under our foot, providing cars and an influx of intel from the underground drug trades here in Seoul."

San steps aside, his focus turned towards the screen behind him, watching as it flickered to life. An image of an older man comes into view, the lights within the room suddenly darkening, allowing all of the focus to fall onto the man known as Seungjae.

"Our friend here likes to think that he can undermine me," San begins, reaching for the small remote on the table as he flicks through to another picture. "Little does he know that his friends are more terrified of me than they are of him, and I've come to learn some fairly interesting news."

Wooyoung studies the picture, furrowing his brows slightly as he turns his head to glance at San, watching as he composed himself, letting the anger simmer just beneath the armor he wore like another layer of skin. He was holding back, hiding whatever emotions that lay within, continuing with the briefing as if his own emotions held no weight. Wooyoung was curious, more than he should've been, wondering why San was so affected by a mere drug lord than anything else.

"The details I've uncovered come from the raiders that live in a sub-city, just outside of Seoul's city limits. Their leader, Choi Beomgyu, has relayed to me that Seungjae intends on stealing from me. He wants to buy a mass of stock, sell it for higher than he's supposed to, then lie about the profits. He truly believes that I won't notice, that his plan will go beneath the radar in the way he supposes," San expresses, his tone bitter and cold, though far from emotional. "So, I've decided to take matters into my own hands. We're going to steal his cars, his prized possessions, and sell them off, to get the money back that I've been owed."

San clicks a button on the remote again, his gaze moving back towards the small group before him, gesturing towards someone in specific. "Minho will be leading the mission, per usual, so you're all expected to respect his decisions and layouts. He's already gotten a head start on the routes we will use for this, and we must remain strategic. Seungjae, as stupid as he can be, doesn't lack in security. His place is well-armed, well-guarded, and for the most part, he knows how to protect his compound."

"Not against us, he doesn't," a voice from the back of the room emerges, a slight smirk curled on the fair edges of his lips. Minho, as Wooyoung supposes, steps forwards, wearing a thick leather jacket and forward-facing ballcap, his eyes sharp beneath the shadow of his hat. "He's an idiot, like San said. There are some holes in his defenses, things that Yeosang will know how to hack into and expose for our sake. We can get in, and get out. Quick and mostly quiet, except for the one thing we need more than anything else– a distraction."

Wooyoung raises his brow, watching as Minho's gaze immediately flicks to his, drawing the attention of everyone else within the room. "Wooyoung, since we know you can handle yourself behind the wheel, you'll be our distraction."

Wooyoung doesn't protest, though he feels a nagging question sitting on the back of his tongue. He chooses to rather nod, saving his words for a more suitable time other than this.

"Yeosang will accompany Wooyoung, hacking into Seungjae's systems locally, but from the safety of Wooyoung's car. We can't risk Yeosang getting too close, as he will dislodge an EMP blast in order to shut down the entirety of Seungjae's system." Minho walks closer, stopping next to San, taking the small remote from San's hand. "This needs to be tight. No room for error. We get in, we take the car we're assigned to, and we get out. Am I clear?"

The group resounds in a similar bout of nods and small yes's, leaving Wooyoung to watch curiously, his focus drifting back towards Minho as he moves to the next picture, which had been a map, detailed and colored with specific routes for each team.

"San and Mingi will remain as a unit, sitting near the back. San, you need to grab the Bugatti near the back of the lot. The windows are tinted, so it will be hard to see you within that car." Minho's gaze travels towards a male in the back of the room, who had been wearing sunglasses and a smug smile, the black tank top he wore exposing the tone of his arms and collarbones, but not yet covering the cross necklace dangling from his neck. Mingi salutes, either in jest or complete seriousness, which in turn earns a scoff of approval from Minho himself.

"Seonghwa, you will accompany Hongjoong. You two need to aim for the Porsche, which is circled in red. Your car will be one ahead of Mingi's, since it is likely to draw more attention, but I've also come to learn that the windows are bulletproof. Use that to your discretion." Minho glances around before he gestures to the next colored line, which was blue. "Yunho, you'll be with me. Together, we'll aim for the Spyder. You and I will lead the convoy back to the casino, but we have to be wary of traffic and the police, which will likely be on our tail from the moment we blast that EMP."

"How can they tail us even with the EMP?" Yunho asks from the seat across from Wooyoung, earning a response from Yeosang, who was sitting next to Changbin.

"The EMP blast is only designed to set off to a certain range. I can mess with the range of it, but I don't necessarily want to blow up an entire part of the city, causing everything to go off-the-grid. We only want to affect Seungjae's compound, to centralize our attack, otherwise we'll just be seen as reckless thieves who can't control their own equipment."

Wooyoung watches Yeosang as he speaks, studying the composure in his features as he thoughtfully weaves his way through each word. His hair was deeply brunette, longer on the sides and cast in front of his eyes just barely, but he wore a colder expression, something that expressed a tale of time spent behind the screen of a computer. Wooyoung could see the slight weave of bags beneath his eyes, the lace of exhaustion that nearly mirrored stupor, a hardened exterior that saw more bloodshed than he didn't like to admit. Then, he turns to look at Yunho, who had been one of the tallest members that he'd come across, sitting elegantly in his chair with his arms folded against his chest. He was wearing a crewneck, though dark in color, left with glasses perched on to his nose. He looked overly inquisitive, though from his research, he knew that Yunho was far from the soft appearance he portrayed. He was a trained killer, a weapons expert, someone who knew his way around every single model of gun imaginable. He was smart, calculated, introspective and curious; glimmering with ideas that he likely wanted to bounce off of Minho's detailed plan.

"We need to be calculated," Minho reiterates. "Yeosang knows what he's doing. We need to trust that."

"Continue, Minho," San says lowly, moving to lean against the wall that was behind him, a little further away from Minho.

Minho nods, then continues. "Jongho will operate alone for this, as we need someone as a rogue vehicle just in case we get trailed. Jongho is the best shot we have, and if something goes wrong, he and Wooyoung are our ways out."

"So, we want the Spyder, the Bugatti, and the Porsche?" Yunho asks again, earning a curt nod from Minho.

"Correct. Study the map, talk to your partners. We leave at dusk. Changbin and Jisung will remain here with Hyunjin, locking down the casino and its assets, keeping watch for any attempt at retaliation."

"Then it's settled," San says, stepping forward, leaning away from the wall as he reaches the head of the table, placing his palms down on the wood. "You all know your roles. Prepare, rest up, gather your weapons. At dusk, we take back what's mine."

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎. . .⋙

As the sun set and their plans went into motion, Wooyoung found himself sitting in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the wheel of his car maybe a bit too tightly. Yeosang sat next to him, his laptop settled on his lap with a multitude of wires connected into the interface within Wooyoung's car. He was typing away, silently looking down at the screen of his laptop, purely immune to Wooyoung's glances and subtle breaths. It was practiced, this silence and composure, something that Yeosang must've done a hundred times over.

Wooyoung was following Mingi and San's car a careful few feet away, listening as his engine rumbles and hums beyond the silent ambiance of his car's interior. He muted the stereo, listening to Yeosang's congruent typing and softened breaths, leading his mind into a state of tranquility that was somehow blissful. This mission was serious, and though he's worked in a group this large many times before, something about this was gnawing at the back of his mind. He was nervous, only slightly, tightening his grip around the steering wheel unconsciously.

They were nearing the compound, nestled in the outskirts of Seoul, far away from the inner city chaos that came with the hustle and bustle of city traffic. It was quiet this way, darker and at a loss without any flooding street lamps. Wooyoung knew that San wanted this done cleanly, without fret and without incident, striking without giving Seungjae the chance to even retaliate.

As the compound came into view, Wooyoung observed his surroundings briefly. He could feel the earpiece within his ear buzzing away, the slight murmur of words coming from Minho and Mingi both, which were terms of conversation he couldn't bother to listen to just yet. He was taking note of everything, from the windows and chain link fences around the compound, down to the more minute details of license plates and street signs. He wanted to relay everything to Mingyu, to give every single recall of this mission that he possibly could, but he'd have to be smart about all of it.

"Remember your route," Minho commands through their coms, the cars beginning to split off in several different directions, leaving the road completely open for Wooyoung. "You're up, Wooyoung. Make some noise."

"On it," Wooyoung replies, moving his hand down to shift his car into another gear, pressing on the gas as his engine roars with a burst of power. "Hold on to something, Yeosang."

Quickly, Wooyoung speeds his car down the center of the road, listening as Yeosang's typing remains undisturbed. The car moves through the street before it rapidly begins approaching the gates of the compound, but Wooyoung doesn't let up. He pushes his car even faster, further; watching as the grill of his car bursts through the chain link gate, splitting it open seamlessly before he blares down on his horn. The lights from within the compound suddenly flick on, emanating outside from within their windows, plastering the ground in front in an array of yellows and oranges that only spur Wooyoung into placing his car in reverse, spinning his tires enough so that they screech.

"Get that EMP off, Yeosang! We're running out of time!" Minho commands through the line, which only leads Yeosang into typing faster.

"I'm working on it," he mutters. "A few more seconds, tops. Just keep going, Wooyoung. Confuse them even more."

Wooyoung allows his car to spin backwards as he flicks his car back into drive, shifting gears before he taps on his brakes, pulling the parking brake as he spins his car around, flooding the street in a flare of white smoke and chaotic screeches. He taps on the horn again, blaring out into the night, to which he only then begins to hear shouting come from the compound behind him.

"Got it!" Yeosang says, typing a few more commands before he presses enter, whirring the device within the pack of Wooyoung's car to life. "Ten seconds, guys. Move in now!"

Wooyoung continues his loudening, maddening movements within his car, spinning around and dusting white smoke into the atmosphere, hoping that his honking and obnoxious drifting would be just enough to convince the members of Seungjae's compound to come outside, far away from the threshold of the large shared garage. With the gates forced open and completely unguarded, Wooyoung spins his car until it shifts straight, flicking on his high-beams as he faces the compound, listening to each loudening voice as they approach the fence just feet ahead. He revs his engine, once then twice, watching as more and more figures appear near the fence, armed with high caliber guns and flashlights, shouting and yelling as if they could penetrate over the sound of Wooyoung's sports car.

"Moving in right now. Hold them, Wooyoung. Keep their attention," Yunho stated over the com, their plan continuing smoothly, signaling no signs of issue beyond the threat that stood just in front of him.

"Why don't you come out, and stop acting like a righteous jackass?" One of the men near the fence yelled, but Wooyoung pretended not to hear him, revving his engine once more. "I mean it, asshole! Come out or fuck off!"

"Be careful," Yeosang mutters, clicking a few more buttons on his keyboard. "The EMP is about to go off. They're likely going to panic–"

"The windows are bulletproof," Wooyoung mutters, hovering his hand over his gearshift. "I'm not scared."

"It's not about being scared," Yeosang comments, closing the screen of his laptop. "It's about being smart. Remember who you work for now."

Wooyoung bites his tongue, hesitating, listening as a switch clicks in the back of his car, followed by a loud whirring noise that only escalates in pitch before it switches off, silencing itself for a moment before sending a surge of electrostatic energy through the car and into the surrounding area. Wooyoung's eyes widened for a moment, watching as the compound fell completely dark, silenced by the blast from the EMP.

"Now." Wooyoung listens as Minho's voice breaks through the silence, somehow not thoroughly affected by the blast of the EMP, yet disturbed enough to cause static. Wooyoung flashes his lights again before he hears the sudden onslaught of yelling, broken apart by the revving of his engine as he smacks his gearshift into position again.

A flash of bullets smack into the windshield of Wooyoung's car, bouncing directly off and into opposing directions, creating not a single dent or crack within the pane of glass. Wooyoung places his car into reverse as he pulls away from the line of fencing, screeching his tires backwards as the barrage of bullets ensues, unrelenting and not stopping, not even bothered by the incoming flicker of beaming headlights coming from their own compound.

"Go, go, go!"

Wooyoung can hear the loud rumbling of engines emerge from his right, speeding out through the gates, exiting in a line that was exactly to their plan. Wooyoung counted the cars, shifting his car back into drive as he followed behind what was supposed to be San's car, the stolen Bugatti Veyron, tailing behind him as the bullets continued without bothering to stop.

"Minho! How is it looking outside?" San bursted through the coms, though his voice was composed despite the obvious adrenaline coursing through him.

"We're clear. Yeosang, tap into police radio signals, see if you can get a hold of anything before we lead them straight back to the Velvet."

"On it," Yeosang mutters back, re-opening his laptop.

Wooyoung shifts his car into another gear, staying right behind San, just as he was told to. The windows, just like Minho had explained, were blacked out, but he was still a target, nonetheless. Mingi was in the car ahead of San, left in the car they had arrived with, blocking in each of the stolen cars with finesse, leaving no room for error. The coms were alive with chatter, relaying every single traffic light, every single sound, every single sight that they picked up on in their mirrors, and yet, Wooyoung saw nothing behind them. They were clear, away from the compound, successfully having stolen the three cars of San's choosing. It seemed too good to be true, a mere tale of fiction from a fairytale.

But then he saw headlights.

Three beams of light emerge from the darkness at the back of the street, racing forward with a speed Wooyoung couldn't hardly believe. His eyes flick back and forth, watching each set of lights part further and further away, until two split in the opposite direction.

"Yeosang–" Wooyoung breathes out, his eyes moving in between mirrors and then back to the road, following closely behind, trying to remain alert. "Three cars. Dead south. Two split off, likely trying to cut us off."

"Three?" Yeosang asks, his typing now having paused, turning to glance behind him and over his shoulder, now spotting the headlights in question.

Wooyoung glances to his left, watching the buildings pass in a flash of colors and in a blur of movements, but with every break, every single pass of an alley, does he see the image of a speeding car, aligned and in tandem with the position of San's.

"Minho," Wooyoung begins, glancing in his mirror. "Where's the next intersection?"

"One minute ahead. What's going on back there?"

"We've got company," Wooyoung mutters, turning to look to his right, spotting the same movement from the third car, in tandem with San and the vehicle to the left. "San, when I tell you, I need you to hit your brakes."

"You're not calling the shots, Wooyoung–"

"Just trust me!" Wooyoung replies back, glancing ahead of him, spotting the incoming traffic lights.

"Wooyoung, don't–!"

"Trust me, Yeosang. You might want to put your laptop away."

"Don't act defiant! Now isn't the time for that!"

"I'm not being defiant," Wooyoung retorts, shifting his car again, veering out to the left, leaving San's flank exposed. "I'm being smart, remember?"

With a heavy press of his foot, Wooyoung guides his car in line with San's, keeping steady and keeping pace, aligned and prepared for anything that might become of this interaction. He continues to look left and right, and before he realizes, the cars began to speed up, falling out of tandem and running ahead, making their intentions awfully clear. They're going to ram San's car.

"San, I'm serious–" Wooyoung interrupts through the coms, cutting off whoever had been speaking before him. "When I tell you to, pull on the damn e-brake!"

Silence becomes of the call, rushing through waves of static before Wooyoung spots the intersection rapidly approaching. He glances behind him, taking a deep breath inwards, listening as Yeosang tucks his laptop away, but Wooyoung pays no mind. He watches the cars, counting in spurs of threes, trying to connect the dots before they catch him off-guard.

Everything falls into slow-motion. Wooyoung speeds his car up, blocking the front half of San's car as they move into the intersection, met with the sound of his voice calling for San to pull on his e-brake. Wooyoung can see the lights beaming from behind him, but before he has time to gauge if his plan had worked, he feels the side of his car be smashed into, rattling and breaking his window with a force so strong, the moment his head collided into it and bobbed to the other side, his vision blurred, and everything else faded into dark.