A/N: Korean up until the chase, and then Cantonese from then on. Hope everyone's summers are going well~

“Araso.”

Rabbit hesitates before saying, “Qilin-ya. It might be worth it to lie low with Minhee. As far as we know, people think the consequence is a lone wolf, but it pays to be cautious.” He disconnects before I can respond.

Suddenly, Seoul doesn’t feel so safe anymore. If the gang wars have followed us here, I have been flirting with death for the past few days.

My clothes, form-fitting but not tight, were chosen thinking of the casual trouble that a civilian might run into. A robbery, maybe, or assault. Not to say I didn’t consider the chances we were followed from Hong Kong, but I wanted to believe that even these gangs, scum as they are, wouldn’t stoop so low as to try and snipe us.

Dragon never believed in remote kills. It was the code– it said that kills should be fair. That everyone was owed the right to fight for their lives, and see their deaths. During Dragon’s prime, that was how it used to be. But now, during my prime? Other gangs train their members in firing accuracy, primarily. They’ve made a bad name for the underground, one that speaks of shady dealings and sudden deaths. We stick to the code, training in hand-to-hand combat, seeing our opponents’ bruises and broken bones up close, and learning guns only in our spare time. Even as the youngest, my experience with guns far surpasses all but Ox’s. It was their way of making sure I stayed out of physical combat until I got big enough.

Now that they brought their unsavory practices to Seoul, however, what I’m wearing leaves me sorely vulnerable. Keenly, I feel the absence of my Kevlar vest, in one of the boxes still in the penthouse. Of all the times to relax, I scold myself.

Coming out of my mental berating to see the tableau of satiated and sweaty men (barring Jiyong and Seunghyun), I flinch. . Civilians. Small comfort knowing that celebrity status is a decent deterrent when it comes to gang targets. These guys play dirty.

Needing some reassurance, I pull out my phone and open the app I installed to track my brothers by their earpieces. Green dots blink into existence on the black map. Hong Kong, Hong Kong, Hong Kong, Seoul, Seoul. My heart jumps into my throat.

Please.

Seoul.

What the hell? I zoom in on Seoul and notice two dots in Mapo-gu. One in the penthouse. Pulling up the details of the dot across the street confirms my suspicions.

I bite back a curse and shut my phone off when Jiyong looks over curiously. Of all the–

“Something wrong?” he asks.

“Nope, everything’s fine,” I say brightly. “I see you guys liked the food,” I observe, changing the subject. “I actually have to go, but I hope the meal gives you strength for the rest of tonight’s practice~”

“Gomawo, Minhee-ya,” Mino grins. “It was delicious.”

Chorus of thanks all around.

“Don’t mention it. See you back home, guys.” I finish packing up the boxes and head out, barely able to contain myself from running. Once outside, I look at the building across from YG Ent. The windows are dark.

Pulling out my phone, I find that the errant dot has moved into an alleyway with a direct view of the YG Ent entrance. Keeping calm, I unlock the upgraded Mercedes and set the bags in the back. Bending down, I retie my shoes, before straightening and doffing my flannel.

Slowly, I close the door and make as if to walk over the the driver’s side. Instead, I surreptitiously lock the car.

A quick look at the street– it’s empty of cars. Baring my teeth, I grin at the shadows, rocking forward on my toes. I can just imagine the look on his face.

Here I come.

Without further warning, I begin to sprint towards the alleyway where I’d last seen him. A quick blink brings the map up in my contact. My own dot is approaching the alleyway fast. His has only just begun to move. 

Twenty meters. The alleyway is utterly dark.

Ten meters. I can make out a dumpster.

Five. I peer into the gloom and spot him sprinting out the other end. I put on a burst of speed.

Ten. For a moment, it looks like he’s getting away. But he has the handicap of gear, while I’m running weightless. Besides, this particular brother isn’t exactly hard to predict.

Dodging around a few corners, I slide into a nook and wait, catching my breath. Sure enough, his running steps approach, slowing down.

“I think she knows,” he says, exasperated. “How long did you guys think I would be able to hide it from her?”

I frown and turn on my own earpiece, tapping a function I installed myself. The covert Ghost mode, as I’ve dubbed it, lets me listen in on conversations without my brothers finding out. After the last time they bought me frilly underwear, I decided it was necessary to preemptively head them off from bad ideas.

Nothing but silence. He must be using a phone. How plebeian... but it also means he’s contacting base.

“Well, it was a good try, Rat” Rabbit speaks into my ear.

“I lost her for now, I think,” Rat begins, walking away.

“I don’t think so,” Rabbit counters, amused.

I stroll out from around the corner, joining the conversation. “You were saying?”

“.”

“You followed us here to keep an eye on me and make sure I was safe?” I repeat in disbelief. “They need you back home!”

On cue, the monitor in Rabbit’s lair displays an incoming call from base. Four sheepish faces fill the screen.

“You need him back home!” I reiterate, jabbing a finger at Rat, who’s perching on the arm of a chair.

“Qilin,” Tiger begins.

“Don’t you start, ge,” I retort. “Rat’s not there to get you intel and I’m not there to get you intel, aka you have no scout.”

Monkey protests, but I shush him. “You’re no field spy.” He subsides, unable to disagree.

“The thing is,” Tiger continues patiently. “We don’t need him here.”

“In fact, we’ve half a mind to all come over there,” Ox rumbles.

“What the hell?” I pierce all of them with a suspicious glare. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Over the course of the next few hours, I’m updated on the situation. Most of the scumbag gangs scratching at our spot in the hierarchy have been dealt with without fuss, but there’s one relatively new gang that’s giving us trouble.

“Word is out that their leader has a personal grudge against us,” Horse says.

“Well, not exactly,” Rabbit hedges, but quietly. Rat tries to shush him, but too late.

I pin him with a stare. “Tell me.”

“It’s Snake,” Rabbit says flatly. He throws a defiant look at our brothers. “She deserves to know.”

Everyone falls silent and looks at me.

I was thirteen, left in the base when Horse had to go out on an urgent errand. Everything was silent. I was sitting in a corner, lights off, meditating like Monkey had told me to.

The silence was broken by the whirring of the bolts on the door. One of my brothers was back early.

I got up quietly, but slid behind the corner when he stayed in the doorway instead of coming in. Something felt wrong. If I didn’t know that our front door was impenetrable, I would have thought he was looking for danger.

His silhouette moved against the wall and he walked in.

Snake.

Breathing slowly, I watched as he walked towards Dragon’s old study, now our financial office, glancing suspiciously to either side.

He came out ten minutes later, tucking a sheaf of banknotes into his pants, convinced that he had gotten away with his plan.

Coming out of the shadows, I stood before him. He halted, momentarily surprised. A quick glance confirmed that he wasn’t wearing his earpiece.

“Put that back where you found it, Snake,” I told him calmly.

He sneered at me. “What makes you think it’s not mine, Puppy? Or shall I say, little ?”

I didn’t flinch. “You’ve been doctoring our accounts to fund your own gambling.”

He scoffed. “So what if I am? Who’s going to believe the prepubescent little girl over the family they’ve had for years?”

“If you put that back now, I won’t tell them it was you. But don’t try to do it again.”

“Oh, so scary,” he mock shuddered. “Do tell me how you’ll punish the big bad man.” He checked his watch. “Never mind. I don’t have time to be wasting on you.” He moved to leave, but I stepped into his path.

“I’m not letting you go,” I told him, eyes flashing with anger.

“I’m sick of your talking.” He bared his teeth at me and struck, one hand sufficient to hold me by the throat, pinned against the wall. It hurt, but it would be nothing compared to what he would get.

“Besides, now that I’ve got you like this, there are a couple things I’ve been wanting to do to you...” He smiled coldly. “I have a few minutes before the others get back. Let’s have a little fun, shall we?” He reached for my waistband.

The bolts in the door whirred again. Snake showed no sign of hearing them. Instead, he began to drag my sweatpants down.

Before his hand could make it to my underwear, a shot rang out. Snake twisted, face contorting in shock, then in pain as he relinquished his bruising hold on my throat and collapsed halfway to the floor, a bullet in his left foot.

Even then, he had the presence of mind to draw a knife and hold it, shaking, to my exposed waist. I stood still as the tip nicked my skin.

Ox stood in the doorway, a thunderstorm on his face. “Snake.”

Behind him, Horse’s face promised death.

“Puppy, are you OK?” Rabbit’s quiet voice in the earpiece. I gave a tiny nod.

“Put the gun down, Ox.” Snake twisted the knife. A rivulet of blood began to flow down my stomach. It didn’t hurt much. If I kept calm, my brothers kept calm, and we had more of a chance of having it go our way.

“I’m putting it down,” my big Samoan brother says, setting his gun down gently. “Let her go.”

“Not a chance,” Snake retorted, straightening slightly. “Your here is going to be my way out. Least she can do after being the reason I’m kicked out, isn’t that right?” He twisted the knife again. “Help me up.”

Concealing my distaste, I put my arm around him and let him support himself on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the knife was weaving slightly. Good. He wasn’t paying attention to it.

On our slow way out the door, I used my eyes to point Ox’s attention to his gun again. Horse moved aside, seeing my intention. This would take some luck.

It all happened in a breath. I jammed my arm between my waist and Snake’s knife-wielding hand, flinging it outwards. The blade scored a thin line up my forearm.

Ox snatched the gun up and fired in one smooth motion, landing a bullet in the back of Snake’s left knee. Horse slapped the blade out of Snake’s faltering grip.

By the time Tiger got back, we had the traitor bound in a chair and the required tools ready.

With a look of contained violence on his face, Tiger picked up a branding iron, heated it in the little fire we’d built, and without ceremony, casually pressed it against Snake’s neck, dragging it up so it left a kind of burnt trail on his jaw.

He screamed.

 Shaking my head, tossing away the vestiges of my reverie, I sigh. “It’s about time.” Leaning forward, I catch their attention. “Here’s what we do.”