1 Year Prior

The newspaper landed on the mahogany desk with a smack as its owner let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. Leaning on his elbows the middle aged man twisted his head to meet the gaze of the figure to his left.

“I’ve had enough of this. Look at him ruining my business, with my only major client gone what am I going to do, everyone is too afraid to get involved in anything.” The man said, frustrated.

The flash of a black suit and clean cut brown hair was seen moving across the room and settled itself in front of the distressed man.

“Then stop focusing on business.”

With a scoff the older gentleman looked up at his hands, “Stop focusing on business he says,” speaking softly to his hands as if they can hear him. His gaze rose higher,” And why, pray tell, should I do that?”

“Because, the cause of your problems,” the brown haired man motioned to the newspaper, "has an address and the police have loose lips, which means …?” He prompted.

“Which means that damned journalist can be found and taken care of.”

The older man found himself grinning now, soon everything would be back to normal. No, it would be better than normal, there would be no pesky reporter stopping him or alerting the police of his dealings, he could do whatever he pleased. Not like now where he could practically see that smug journalist’s smirk, laughing at him. Hell even his named seemed to mock him, Hong G, might as well be John Doe with a pen name like that.

However when trying to whack the police department’s choir boy of a journalist precautions must be taken. Especially when you have the potential to be linked to mentioned choir boy’s untimely demise.

“We’re going to need to call someone in for this.”

“Agreed. Who should we call?” The younger man asked.

After a moment’s thought the older man spoke up. “What’s that new group that just sprung up? B.A… B.A-something.”

“B.A.P?”

“Yes that’s the one," the older man leaned back in his seat,” see if they are worth their salt. If not they’ll just screw up and get themselves arrested in the process. Either way we get what we want.”

The brown haired man got up from his position on the desk. “Alright , I’ll go contact them, the sooner the better.”

“Get this done, I don’t care what the price.” The older man said.

Nodding the man walked out of the door.

Alone with his thoughts the seated man rejoiced in what he imagined, Hong G, the thorn in his side would be eradicated for good.