"Is that all you got?" the man asked his eight-year-old son.

 His son was panting and gritting his teeth while looking at his father straight in the eyes. They circled around each other; their feet scraping the ground as they tried to guess each other's next move. The man lunged at the boy, but the boy sidestepped and went up to his father's back, put his legs around his neck, pulled him down backwards and quickly rolled away. The man stood up while looking impressively at his son.

 "Is that all you got, dad?" the boy chuckled.

 The man shook his head. "Not bad, Yong Hwa. You'll make a good fighter," he said.

 "Good maybe just an understatement," Yong Hwa replied.

 He lunged at his father, ready to kick him in the gut, but his father had caught his foot and used it to knock him down to the ground while holding his right leg up. His father smirked down at him.

 "How about that?" the man chuckled. He was about to twist Yong Hwa's ankle but Yong Hwa used his other leg and kicked his father's shin, the grip on his foot faltered and he broke free from his father's grasp.

 "How do you like me now, dad?" he said and laughed out loud.

 Yong Hwa advance, but then again, his father caught his fist in mid-air and twisted his arm. Yong Hwa's face twisted in pain, but he managed to withstand the pain and used his leg and wrapped it around his father's leg and pulled it, sending them down to the ground, with Yong Hwa on top. He swatted his father's hand away and Yong Hwa put his arm against his father's throat, and raised his fist as if to punch him on the face. But his fist stopped before his father's face.

 "Wrong move, kid," his father said. He grabbed Yong Hwa's arm that was on his throat and threw him away. Yong Hwa used his shoulders for the impact and rolled sideways. He stood up and breathed heavily. He was already exhausted.

 "Never hesitate to hit your target," his father said while getting up and brushing off the dirt on his clothes, "or you'll get yourself hit instead. Always remember that, Yong Hwa." he smiled. "You did well today. Up top." his father gave him a high-five.

 Yong Hwa smiled. "Well, I have the best instructor," he said while still panting. They've been sparring each other for three hours which had made Adam worn out.

 His father put an arm around Yong Hwa's neck and pulled him close to him. "Always remember what I've been teaching you, alright? I'm not always at your side. You need to learn how to protect yourself."

 "Yeah. I'll remember that, dad," Yong Hwa said and nodded.

 They've been doing their daily sparring since he was six. It might sound crazy, but his father already insisted that he needed to learn how to protect himself. It was hard at first; taking blow after blow from a man who was bigger and stronger than you. Their first week was the hardest. He had cuts and bruises all over his face and body. His mother tried to talk to his father about this, but his father just always said that it's for Yong Hwa's own good. He wouldn't stand a chance if a bad situation happens. Who was he, anyway? He was just a boy.

 But in those two years, he learned how to fight like a man. He had also learned to handle guns and knives. Knives were his father's specialty. His father had an excellent throwing-arm. He could bury a knife in a man's chest up to its hilt even if he had thrown it at least twenty meters away from his target.

 But the most important of all, was the hand-to-hand combat. Yong Hwa had always made a fuss about it.

 "Why would I need to learn hand-to-hand combat, if I have weapons?" he had said with a scowl.

 His father scoffed. "What if you don't have any weapons with you? What would you do, run? A very bad trait for a fighter," his father had replied. "You're being trained to be a fighter, to be able to protect yourself. Not to be a coward and not running from problems that will come."

 Even at Yong Hwa's young age, he already understood what his father had been teaching him for two years. And his daily sparring had made his body muscled and lean.

 "Hey, dad, look." Yong Hwa pointed at something at the side. His father turned to the direction.

 "I don't see--" he wasn't able to finish what he's saying because Yong Hwa had twisted his arm that was around Yong Hwa's neck, and he kicked the back of his father's knees and pinned him down to the ground, with Yong Hwa's right hand pressed against his father's head while his other hand was twisting his father's arm on his back.

 "Never get distracted and tricked," Yong Hwa recited one of the lines that his father was always saying. "A very bad trait for a fighter." he shook his head.

 His father laughed. "You totally got me there, Yong Hwa." he continued to laugh.

 Yong Hwa released his grip from his father's arm and stood up. He held out his hand to his father. "But also, a fighter always helps his comrades. Even at life-and-death situation, he doesn't leave his comrades behind."

 His father took Yong Hwa's hand and stood up. "Come here." he pulled Yong Hwa close to him and ruffled his hair violently. "You're the best."

 "Nope. You are the best." Yong Hwa smiled.

 Just then, his mother came out from the back door and appeared on the door way, looking grim.

 "Anthony, Anthony!" his mother called. "It's Michael. He's here." her eyes looked worried. Yong Hwa frowned. He rarely heard his father being called by his English name. His mother usually called him by his real name.

 Anthony looked alarmed. He turned back to Yong Hwa. He smiled. "Hey, you want to climb up to your room by scaling?"

 Yong Hwa raised his eyebrows. "Seriously, dad?" he smiled. "You betcha."

 Anthony smiled sheepishly. "Good. Time your scaling, then. Tell me your time later. Let's see if you can break my record," he said. "And, hey, no cheating." he pointed an accusing finger at Yong Hwa and smiled playfully. "I know you."

 "Alright, alright." Yong Hwa set his watch, and began to climb the house.

 - - - - -

 Anthony quickly ran to the living room, and saw his friend on the couch, blood all over his body. "Michael!" Anthony called and rushed towards his friend.

 "What the heck happened to you?" he panicked. He didn't know what to do first. "Stay there, don't move. I'm going to get you patched up." he stood up, but Michael caught the front of his shirt.

 "No, Anthony. I won't be long," Michael croaked. His breathing started to become ragged.

 "What do you mean?" Anthony grimaced as he continued to look at his friend. Something bad had happened to him.

 "Remember when you killed the senator? They have a footage of the actual killing. And they saw you, although your back was on the camera. It's the jacket and the gun that you used, they've traced the bullet."

 "What?" Anthony shuddered. There was definitely no way that the police could catch the trace of the bullet used. Only a few of them have the kind of gun that was almost impossible to be traced.

 "They're hunting you know, Anthony," Michael said. "But I'm not going to let them get you."

 Anthony frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

 Michael drew a sharp breath. "I'm going to cover you up. I'll turn myself in."

 Anthony looked horrified. "What? Are you crazy? I won't let you do that!"

 "Don't worry, my face has been already wanted. They saw me kill the famous business man a few days ago. Then they saw me again earlier, that's why I'm like this. There's no running away, it's not like I can run forever. It's a dead-end." Michael clutched the bullet wound on his side.

 "But you're going to turn yourself in just because of the crime you didn't commit?" Anthony said. "You've gotta be kidding me."

 "It's not just that, Anthony," Michael said lowly.

 Anthony frowned. "What?"

 "You have to promise me one thing, Anthony." Michael gripped the collar of Anthony's shirt with his free hand. "Promise me you'll do it for me."

 For the first time in his life, Anthony didn't know what to say. He was always the one who knew how to talk things out and make deals with their clients. But now, it became the opposite.

 "I will do it," he said, "you have my word."

 "You have to find him," Michael said. He stared deeply in Anthony's dark brown eyes. And Anthony could see that his friend was really into his plan of turning himself in. Anthony didn't like the idea of his friend being sentenced to death, but he was ready to do the promise for his friend.

 "Who?" Anthony asked.

 "My son."

Park Shin Hye

 He is going to kick me out today. But I don't even know if he's serious about that. I know that guy's a jerk, and means his every word. But now, even though I've just known the real him yesterday, I don't even think he's really that cold. He still has this soft spot on people. After all, maybe, he's just like me. Damaged and crushed because of our pasts.

 But one thing always keeps bugging my mind. What is his past?

 Suddenly, the door to my room bursts open, just-like-in-the-action-movies-when-they-kick-the-door-open style. It crashes to the wall and creates a cracking sound. Adam appears on the doorway.

 "Hey," he greets with a frown. "Get your up. I'm going to kick you out."

 I scowl. "What's with the door kicking so early in the morning? It's only nine in the morning, geez," I say with disgust. The sides of the door has been damaged because of the kick he's done. But he doesn't seem to be bothered about it.

 "What's with locking the door?" he says. "No locking doors in my place, understand?"

 "What's wrong with knocking?" I counter. "Why didn't you just knock?"

 He grimaces. "Just get your up, will 'ya? Or I'm going to drag you out of here."

 "Okay, okay, boss," I say. "Geez."

 He disappears out of the room. I quickly get up from the bed and get out. My gunshot wound isn't hurting anymore, it just throbs with dull pain. I don't know what he did, but I gotta say, it's effective.

 He is sitting on a high chair behind the table while drumming his fingers repeatedly on it. "Alright, let's go," he announces.

 I raise an eyebrow. "I thought you were going to kick me out? What now?"

 He wrinkles his nose. "We're just going to go somewhere. Particularly to someone. Someone who made us kill the same target."

 I laugh. "I knew this time would come. I like that idea of yours. Let's go."

- - -

 We arrive at the underground the warehouse of the person we're going to. Conor Choi, obviously. I've been pissed off when Adam told me his hunch about Conor on our ride here earlier.

 We walk shoulder-to-shoulder upon entering the warehouse. We get many narrowed and suspicious stares, but we just ignore it. We arrive in front of Conor's office.

 "Go in first," Adam says. "Just as we planned."

 "Whatever you say," I say. I'm starting to like this side of him. Alright, erase that line.

 I open the door of Conor's office. He looks up at me with a startled look.

 "Courtney," he greets. "How was--"

 "It's done," I cut him off. I close the door and lean against the wall beside it. "He's been killed. You don't have to worry about Hong Jun exposing your colleagues' asses."

 His eyes show a little hint of disappointment. I notice it and chuckle. "What now, Conor? What's with the disappointment in your eyes? You're expecting someone else to kill him for you?" I say bitterly.

 He flinches back. "Wh-what? Of course not. I expect--"

 The door opens, and Adam appears on the doorway. "Apparently, he was really expecting someone else aside from you, Courtney," he says and winks at me. He closes the door with a thud and walks towards Conor's desk. "I've been here yesterday, but I haven't seen your whole room. Nice place you got here." he sits on the chair in front of Conor's desk.

 Conor looks at me, then to Adam, then back at me again. He keeps doing it for a moment. "Wait, wait. You know each other?" he asks in astonishment.

 "Only for a few days," I reply. "Looks like you're....surprised."

 "He sure does," Adam says and shakes his head. "He didn't even know that the two people he ordered to kill the same target know each other."

 Conor starts shaking a bit. "Look, you two, I just did it because--"

 "Because what?" Adam demands, his voice raising. He bangs his fist on the table. "Damn. You gotta have a good explanation for this matter, Conor."

 Conor flinches back when Adam has banged his fist on the table. "Look, I just wanted to see who is faster in doing their jobs. It's only that. C'mon now, guys," he explains. "I didn't intend to do anything wrong."

 "Yeah, yeah. You didn't." Adam wrinkles his nose a few times. "Remember this, Conor: You don't know how bad I am when I get angry. You don't want to see me angry, do you?"

 "N-no. Of course not," Conor says. I want to burst out laughing right now by just seeing Conor's scared expression. But I manage to hide it. He's afraid of Adam? Seriously, Conor?

 "Good, then," Adam says before standing up from the chair. "Well, we'd better go. Wouldn't want to spend our time here." he looks around as if he's disgusted with the room. He just said earlier that the place is nice, then now, he's showing disgust. I can only facepalm myself.

 He walks towards the door and I meet him at the doorway. "You, my friend, are bestial," I say and shake my head. "You just scared the out of him."

 He smiles. "Nah. Just did what I do usually," he says. "C'mon, let's get the heck out of here."

 When we get out of the warehouse, which is located in an abandoned lot in the outskirts of the city, we walk our way towards Adam's car. But just as Adam is opening the car door, a group of thugs walks towards us.

 "Nice car you got here," the one that looks like the leader says and touches the car's trunk. The group consist of eight people, including the leader who's holding a grey baseball bat. They're all dressed in long black shirts and baggy pants. Typical thug wear.

 "You know what, if you don't want to see me angry, you should probably GTFO," Adam growls as he walks to the leader who's now face-to-face with him.

 The leader of the group laughs and flips the baseball bat in his hands. "You got a nice mouth, buddy. Want me to hit you with this?" he gestures to the bat on his hand.

 "Oh, really? Alright, then. Try me," Adam challenges. Before he can even advance, I put a hand on his shoulder and yank him back.

 "Hey, not now, buddy," I mutter. "Let's just get the out of here."

 The leader raises his eyebrows. "Oooh. Is this your girlfriend?" he mocks at Adam. "She looks better with me. So I guess I'm just going to take her with me."

 Now my blood's roaring in my ears. I turn and look at Adam who is also looking at me. He smiles slyly, and I do the same. For the first time, we know what each other's thinking.

 "Alright, then," I say.

- - -

 "You guys again?" the police officer growls at them. We are now in the precinct with the group of thugs who pissed us off earlier.

"How many times have you been here for a week? For heavens' sake, picking up fights with them?" he points at us, but when he sees us, he slowly lowers his finger and frowns. "Wait. Why.....?" he trails off.

 "Don't worry about that, officer," Adam says. "They didn't hurt us."

 "They've hurt themselves instead," I add.

 It's true. We've beat the heck out of them earlier. Adam kept cursing about the leader touching his car while we beat them off. Adam seemed to be really pissed off earlier. As the result? The thugs' faces are barely recognizable because of the damaged we've made. But we don't have any wounds or scratches at all.

 The thugs glare at Adam. But when he glares back at them, they quickly look away from him. Talk about scary, will 'ya?

 A bolt of pain travels to my body and I clutch my wound on my side. It makes me grimace. Adam notices it and looks at me.

 "Hey, you alright?" he whispers. "You shouldn't have joined me in beating them earlier."

 I wave a hand to him. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

 When I catch a glimpse of his eyes, I don't know, but are they showing some sort of worry? I don't have time to look in his eyes a little longer because he quickly looks away.

 "What's this all about?" a voice booms behind us.

 We all turn to look at the speaker. A guy, maybe a year younger than us, stands rigid on the doorway, with a frown on his face. He is wearing a black vest over a white long-sleeved shirt with a red striped necktie on his neck and he has his coat slung over his arm.

 "Prosecutor," the police officer greets with a bow.

 Oh, he's the prosecutor. Haven't thought of him as a young guy. I've pictured someone older.

 I turn to look at Adam, who is bust staring at the prosecutor. Maybe he's also thinking the same.

 "You guys again?" the Prosecutor says in disbelief. He walks towards the group sitting in front of the police officer's desk.

 "They've done a violation again, Prosecutor Lee," the officer says. "I don't think these guys are going to change."

 The guy, who happens to be the Prosecutor, inhales sharply. "Take these guys behind the bars. Keep them there for a year. Let's see how they manage to live their lives there," he says calmly, though I can feel that he's trying to keep himself from shouting. 

 "Yes, Prosecutor." the officer calls two other officers to help him detain the group behind the bars. When they disappear, the Prosecutor turns to us.

 "Are you the two who brought those guys here?" he asks us.

 Adam nods. "Yeah," he replies. "It's a good thing you brought them behind the bars."

 The Prosecutor sighs. "Yeah. They've been here many times already. But they still keep on doing violations. And I'm getting tired of letting them go and bringing back them here again. Might as well keep them there." he looks at his watch. "Sorry, I can't stay here quite longer. Still have an investigation to handle. My lead in finding the one of the wanted criminals has been killed yesterday. I need to join the investigation of the police. Excuse me," he says and disappears up the stairs.

 "So, he's the so called 'Prosecutor Lee', huh?" Adam says as we walk our way out of the precinct.

 "Yeah. I never thought he's young. I've pictured someone older." I shake my head. "And he's also the one that Hong Jun had called. Well, he looks pissed."

 "Well, his lead's dead. His only lead in finding one of the most wanted criminals in this country. Who wouldn't be pissed?" Adam laughs. It's the first time I hear him laugh. He looks normal now, not the cold guy I've known a few days ago.

 We walk in silence. Then we stop at the corner of the street, where his car is parked.

 "So, is this goodbye?" I accidentally say. What am I saying? Of course this is goodbye. As if he's going to make me stay in his place longer.

 He raises an eyebrow. "Hmmm. I don't think so," he says. "Our paths always cross. So I don't think this is goodbye. Don't worry, I'll see you around. Just don't try to get yourself into trouble while your wound's still fresh. Wouldn't want to see your body in the morgue yet." he pats my shoulder lightly and winks at me. His gestures surprise me and it brings a smile on my face.

 "Yeah," I say. "See you around, Adam." I've said his name at ease. It's like we've known each other for a long time. I don't know why but it feels comfortable with him around.

 He winks at me and gets in his car. I look at his car speed off and disappear out of my sight.