KAI’S POV

The night air is cold when I finally step on the grounds of the abandoned gas station that stood decomposing in a deserted corner of Incheon.

I wait in the parking lot and look around, checking the spacious lot for anyone. But everything is still – no leaves rustling, doors jingling, or lights flickering. The convenience store that used to operate here is completely lifeless, and the newsstand outside is also completely covered in cobwebs.

There are no signs of life as no one has actually used this place since the modern highway system was redeveloped, which makes it perfect for the HoC. Not just its isolation, but the fact that this location lied within a sensible distance from HOC operations in Incheon.

As well as one more thing…

You could still fill these tanks with gasoline.

Any minute now.

Standing alone, I observe the scene around me, mapping out hiding spots and exit routes in case anything goes wrong. Vantage points to shoot from, reflective surfaces that could expand my line of sight—

My eyes halt at the dusty glass windows of the convenience store. I think someone’s here.

“You would’ve think that our first father-son meeting in over 20 years would have happened at a nice dinner or something, but here we are.”

I briefly touch my gun to make sure the safety’s off as I take a step forward to finally meet the owner of this raspy voice face-to-face. He sounded nothing like it did on the call yesterday. After all this time chasing, I still find it surreal how the moment is finally here.

Tonight, I’m going to make sure this bastard actually dies.

“Old gas station in the middle of nowhere—a place that’s practically dead.”

The raspy voice is nothing like what it sounded like on the call yesterday. It continues talking.

“But you know what they say, the dead are really the ones living.”

The voice steps forward from the shadows and reveals itself as an average-built man with a salt-and-pepper buzzcut, and a face nothing like I remember. But it might be because of how the skin on one side of it is completely wrinkled, burnt-looking, and ruined.

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. I clench my jaw as I take it all in. He’s here, in flesh, in full form—with nothing more separating the distance between myself and him. After what feels like forever, I still can’t believe this is happening.

Squinting, I try to get a better look.

If he’s actually burnt, as much as I don’t want to admit it, this guy is probably really my father.

. He is.

How? How did he escape the fire? And if he had been able to survive, why didn’t he just come back to the House?

He’s standing several feet away from me now. I watch him, slowly coming to terms with the fact that he may indeed be my father. Considering how long this has taken, I’d be expecting something more dramatic. But this anti-climatic meeting seems less movie-like. Sometimes, meetings are just that after all—meetings.

And for some meetings, the faster they wrap up, the better.

I feel not attachment, no pain, nothing. To me, he is nothing but a dead man walking.

He’s not my father, he’s not an ex-HOC member, he’s just someone I want to take out in the next 20 minutes. I scan him from head to toe, silently trying to figure out possible places where a weapon or two might be hidden.

Met with my silence, the man spreads his arms out. I can’t help but note his slightly tattered clothing. This, and he says he’s building an empire?

“Jongin. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? You’ve aged quite well… considering the bastard who raised you.”

God, two minutes in and he’s already pushing my buttons.

“I wish I could say the same for you,” I say expressionlessly. “Do you have the ring?”

“Of course,” the man cackles gleefully, stepping forward while raising his left hand up. I knew it. Someone power hungry like him—they’d wear it on the most obvious part of their body.

Which just makes it easier to steal back.

“That’s what you ask about immediately? No greetings, no hugs, no comment about how long it’s been?” The man feigns disappointment. “Do you even remember my name?”

“I need to see the ring, Kim Youngmin,” I say, holding out my hand. Of course I’d remember this bastard’s name. He wrecked so much havoc in my early years it was borderline traumatizing. “How would I know it’s actually the real Joker’s ring?”

“Jongin, when have I ever lied to you?” Youngmin taunts, grinning psychotically. “Nu-uh! See no touch only.”

“I don’t know, when you made everyone think you were dead, maybe?”

This lunatic bursts out laughing, maniacally cracking up while slapping one knee. “Funny! You’ve grown to be funny! I like that.”

When people start spouting irrelevant, nonsensical like this in the middle of business, it pisses me off. “What do you want to keep the ring for? If you succeed with your plan, won’t you automatically get it too?”

“I like wearing this ring because every day, I get to admire how I’ve got the HOC wrapped around my pretty little finger,” Yougmin’s smile widens. “Believe me. It’s a nice feeling.”

“And if I say I have your man wrapped around mine?”

“Wonho?” Youngmin sneers. “Jongin, if I can get him back, great, but if I can’t, my world doesn’t stop spinning. And no—I’m not going to trade him for the ring, in case that’s what you’re thinking.”

“So what do you want?” I hiss. I’m standing eerily still, but in my head, I’m already planning my course of attack.

Youngmin is obviously enjoying this—feeling like some evil mastermind who thinks he’s finally got the world watching him for once. To him it might feel like an accomplishment, but to me, this is just painfully humiliating.

Pacing around me slowly, I let him launch into a monologue.

“Of course I can’t reveal too much before I have your pledge of allegiance, Jongin, but you’ve seen that I’m real enough, right? I can escape from a burning warehouse and come back to life after over 20 years of you guys thinking I was dead, so I can surely do something as easy as… disassembling a gang with no real leader right now.”

He pauses for a reaction, but I give him none.

“Do you know why I never came back to the HOC? It’s because of that filthy stepbrother of mine—even with his pathetic disease he wanted to be the Joker so bad that he left me in that warehouse to burn. The body they brought into the morgue wasn’t mine. It was around where I should’ve been and was just as charred, and they never requested an autopsy. With you all thinking I was dead, living became a piece of cake.”

“You were a mess back then,” I growl, livid at how this er seems to think that his actions are justified. “You were an addict. You were never mentally stable, you even killed our fami—”

“I never said I’m proud of that?” This lunatic groans, having the audacity to look bored. “Look, maybe that part was my bad. But as far as killing family members go, that bastard Lee Sooman isn’t much better than I am then, is he?” He gestures at his face.

There are so many ways I could counter that statement but I’m not here for a long chat. It’s not like I can change anything this idiot did in the past, and trying to talk common sense into him would just be pointless. Plus, I have to at least sort of lead him to think that I’m considering his offer.

“No, but get to the point,” I say evenly.

Youngmin gives me another one of his I’m-absolutely-ing-mental grins. “I agree. Let’s get to the point of us meeting, shall we? Here’s the point: over the past 20 years I’ve been doing some work. I’ve been meeting people, and I’ve been studying the HOC. I know how you control the underground operations in Korea and how you manage your overseas operations too. You might think you’re running things well, but there have been whispers in the underground community amongst people who are actually against it.”

My brows twitch. For the first time tonight, I think I’m actually taking him seriously. Once again, what the is he saying?

Youngmin catches my reaction and laughs in glee. . 

“Oh, you obviously want to hear more. Should I tell you more? I should probably make you swear your buy-in first but… hmm, maybe a little more won’t hurt. You see, Kai, there are grumblings among the underground community that the HOC isn’t thinking big enough. You’re not thinking… internationally. Me, what I’m doing is going to fix that.”

What… the hell? Okay, this guy must be bat crazy. We have chapters all over the continent and very prominent ones across East Asia. Last time I checked, this guy is most likely brewing some low-budget meth lab in one of the fishermen's villages down south. What the hell?

“And you are? Is that why you’re running your meth lab down by the southern sea?”

Youngmin bursts out laughing, doubling over and slapping his knee. “Oh that’s hilarious! So you’ve caught up quite a bit actually—not bad. My meth lab, as you call it, is just a means to the end. It’s just a front, something to help achieve the bigger picture. You don’t think pretty boys like Wonho are all that I’m relying on for my main plan, do you?”

“You’re telling me quite a bit about it.”

“I always play fair, even with my enemies,” Youngmin shrugs. “It wouldn’t be fair for me to not reveal anything tonight, wouldn’t it?”

I ignore his answer. “You say we’re not thinking internationally, but we have chapters all over the continent. Especially strong ones in neighboring countries too.”

“Yes but guess what? You’re not the only one,” Youngmin cackles.

I feel like that’s a riddle that’s supposed to pique my curiosity, but the only thing I’m thinking about is why the hell this guy is always laughing. The fire must’ve burnt the part of his brain that controls emotions. Aish, this is getting annoying. How to end this bastard soon…

“Alright, that’s enough chit chat I think,” Youngmin sings, clapping his hands. “I’ve given you as many details as I can. Now it’s up to you to believe me. You’ve seen me. I’m real. I’m me—I brought the ring. Now are you going to trust me and join me, or try in vain to save the HOC?”

I look at him, calculating his moves, calculating each second.

“I’m going to do the smart thing,” I step forward, “and try to save the HOC.”

“The vain thing, you mean?”

“Who said it will be?”

Everything after that happens in a flash. I see him reach behind his waist and just as he does I reach behind mine—and open fire.

I aim for his leg but he dodges it just in time with his gun pointed back at me.

“JONGIN!” he growls over the gunshots echoing in the air.

I duck, moving rapidly to the entrance of the gas station, hiding behind the rows of refill pumps. At their hideout place, Chanyeol should have captured the burst in audio signals and taken it as a sign to start sending backup in. But before they take over, I need to get that goddamn ring.

“You think I didn’t see this coming?!” Youngmin screams. Then comes the sound of glass shattering. “I’ll kill you here tonight if I have to!”

“Funny, that’s what I was trying to do!” I yell back, emerging from behind one of the pumps. This time, I shoot at his leg and hit his shin.

“Argh!”

In the split second of weakness, I tackle him to the ground and kick his gun as far away as possible. Pinning him down, I press on the wound to make him scream. Come on, open your ing hand up—

“!” Youngmin spits, but to my horror, instead of uncurling his fist, he pulls out a knife. He takes a stab, but I throw myself away just in time.

Despite his bloody leg, Youngmin rolls me over. Now it’s my turn to meet the cold, hard concrete. Cussing, I lose my grip on my gun, but I don’t let that faze me.

“You want to play with knives? Fine!”

I whip out mine and try to drive it into his gut. But he jumps off me quicker than lightning. Now we’re back on both feet, eyes locked on each other as we walk in slow circles and try to predict the other’s first move.

He shows his first. Lunging, he charges, going for my chest but missing. I catch his arm and twist it, slashing my own knife violently. Blood trickles from the new gash on his arm, and the devil in me smiles when I hear him cry out in pai—

“!” I hiss. His blade just barely missed me.

I release him and spin myself away for a second. He attacks again, but I block it. Using the momentum, I jump and climb on top of him. He sways wildly, not expecting it, but I hold on and drive my knife into the shoulder of his knife-carrying arm from above.

“Aaah!” He howls in pain, and the object clatters to the ground. Kicking it away, I punch him. He staggers, and I follow up with a kick, knocking him down again.

“Now if I may,” I say, one gripping his throat to hold him still, “I’m going to take back my ring.”

His scream pierces through the air as I pierce his left pam with my blade. Drops of crimson pool around Helpless, he uncurls his fingers and effortlessly, I pluck off the ring.

“You think you’re going to get away with his?” He growls, struggling to sit up. Because he can’t—not when I’ve got him pinned to concrete. I pick up his abandoned weapon as a replacement. “My men are here too, Jongin. You try escaping and—”

“I think they’ll run into my men on the way here,” I grin, pulling out my phone to check for updates from Chanyeol. ETA 1 minute. “I appreciate us keeping our promise to come alone at first, but now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Urgh!”

This motherer heaves and leaps to his feet, knife hanging from his bloody left hand and all. . I run, picking up one of the guns lying on the ground. How much longer now, 40 seconds?

Gunshots ricocheting and bullet cases clinking, I take cover behind the refill tanks. Behind me, I hear the sound of tires screeching and make a beeline for the exit driveway just as a bullet whizzes past my ear.

“You’re going down, Jongin!” Youngmin taunts, several feet away from me. I feel my phone buzz. That must be Chanyeol’s 15 seconds warning.

Mid-run, I spin around and take three clean shots: one aimed at the bastard making my life unnecessarily difficult, two aimed at one of the gas tanks we’ve refilled before this meeting.

I hear Youngmin’s deranged laughter when he sees gasoline pour out. “Oh, this again? Very funny Jongin, love it when people try to recreate history!”

“Well, this time I’m hoping it will finally work!” I yell. I flick out the last thing I have in my pocket. A lighter. I ignite it with a soft click and throw it far behind me.

Just as flames spring to life, I hear Chanyeol’s voice. “KAI!”

A black van pulls into my peripheral vision. Hastily, I jump in and bang the door shut just as bullets rain on the metal body.

“Go, go!” I urge, pulling myself into the seat properly. “We have Jaehyun’s unit for clean-up, right?”

“Yes, and Jeno’s unit taking care of that guy’s men we met on the way.” Chanyeol answers. I grin. It’s great to be back with my team.

“Nice,” I pant, catching my breath. D.O flashes me a grin from driver’s seat and I return it with a thumbs up. He checks the rearview mirror briefly.

“I think they’re dealing with him as we speak,” he says, and I turn around to see an identical black van pulling up already. “That seemed easy?”

“It was,” I chuckle. Uncurling my palm, I reveal the small, circular object. “Considering how he left us running around for months, he was a piece of cake to take down. I got the ring but I couldn’t tell if this is really it. He might have made a fake and kept the real one to himself.”

“We told Jaehyun to search him already,” Chanyeol answers, turning around to inspect the ring.

“I don’t think he’s the best at fighting,” I say thoughtfully, “but he’s something else when it comes to surviving. I know we want to try to bring him in for questioning, but if we end up killing him, make sure Jaehyun confirms he’s dead as this time.”

“On it.” Chanyeol replies, tapping his earpiece to relay the message to Jaehyun and his unit as he holds the ring up to the light.

“Are the rest at Club Lotto already? With Suzy?”

“Yeah. Everything’s going as planned so far,” D.O. affirms.

“Final-ing-ly,” I groan, sinking into the backseat. Our van speeds off, farther and farther away from the gas station glowing bright. From the backseat, I relayed what he said to my team.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Chanyeol interjects, looking extremely confused, “you’re saying there’s this unknown group of people in the underground society who actually disagrees with how the HOC is operating? Because, to quote, we’re not ‘thinking internationally’?”

“Yes.”

“And are these people a certain gang we’ve just never heard about, or…?”

“I think it’s more like individuals in various places—across different gangs and whatnot who all agree with this absurd notion. I find the second piece more ridiculous—how the hell are we not thinking internationally? We’re literally the largest network in South Korea with chapters all over this continent! No other gang is doing it like us here!”

“What did he say again though about us not being the only one?” D.O. asks.

“Just that. We’re not the only one with international presence. Which we are—”

“Oh, I think I get it,” D.O. says casually. “Yeah, we’re not. We’re not the only ones… internationally.”

“What?” I stop.

“Wait a minute. I’m having a big brain moment here—D.O., I think I know what you’re saying. He’s not just talking about the HOC in South Korea specifically. He’s talking about the Triads and Yakuza too. He’s talking about the Big 3.”

“Exactly,” D.O. nods, and I’m honestly flummoxed at how quick it took him to figure it out. Why is his brain so… whatever. I fight better. Ha!

“So you think there are people that don’t like how there’s the Big 3? They want the HOC—or South Korea—to just monopolize everything?” I wonder out loud. “That’s bull. The Triads and Yakuza have been around for hundreds of years!”

“Let’s wait till we regroup to discuss more. This is really helpful intel he gave away very soon, actually,” Chanyeol turns around to face me. “So, next topic. How was meeting your father again?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t think about it. He was just someone I had to kill.” I answer flatly.

The two of them pester me for more but I reply to every question just as disinterestedly. How come? Because he was never a father to me. I hate him with every single fiber in my body and I’m only interested in seeing him wiped off this planet for real.

“Yah, how far are we?” I grumble after several more minutes of questioning. “I need a goddamn drink.”

“15 minutes.”

“Still?!”

“I’m going 50 above the limit already, damn!”

“Yah, is there any water here?”

“Water?”

“Yeah. Chanyeol, do you have any?”

“Do I look like a kid on a field trip or something? Sorry mom, I did not bring my water bottle or a sandwich with me today,” Chanyeol says mockingly.

“Just because you’re not 8 anymore do you think you’re too good for water or something?”

“No but I just don’t bring water with me anymore!”

“Just say you’re dehydrated as and go!”

“Aish, if you’re so hydrated then how come you don’t have any—”

“You two better shut it before I kick you into the Han River right now,” D.O. growls, and Chanyeol sticks his tongue out at me. Kids. All these gangsters are really just kids, I tell you.

Thankfully, we finally arrive at the club sooner than later and we enter through a back door that leads straight to the VVIP section. Bickering about something related to the Chinese Triads, the three of us climb a flight of stairs leading to the lounge that is tucked away from the main area of the club.

“Boss,” Taeyong greets as soon as I step foot on the landing. “I tried notifying you but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh, really? What is it?” I check my phone, realizing that Taeyong sent me 4 new messages while I was in the car arguing about water or something.

Taeyong picks up his pace to match my stride. , I just really need that drink, you know?

“The thing is, uh, I… I didn’t know…”

“Taeyong, just say it. What happened?” I snap, irritated by his stuttering. The is he lagging for?

“She was with work friends, so I couldn’t just—”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” I stop abruptly upon hearing the word ‘she’. D.O. walks smack into my back and yelps.

“Seo Iseul!” Taeyong finally blurts, his voice low. “She’s here. Your 8 o’clock at VIP Table #4.”

You could probably knock me over with a marble because that’s how lightheaded I feel. Suddenly, I have trouble breathing. No way. No ing way this is real.

“W-what?” I breathe, not daring to move an inch.

“Seo Iseul came here with her work friends. They arrived about 30 minutes ago and managed to get a VIP table without a reservation, which is why we weren’t anticipating this.”

“How come?” I hiss through gritted teeth, my tone clipped.

Taeyong shrinks visibly. “If there’s an opening and a decent-sized group who suddenly wants to fill it, it wouldn’t make sense for our business to turn them away, boss.”

I exhale slowly and close my eyes, trying to calm my frantic nerves. . I can’t believe this. I need to see—I need to see if it’s real.

But I can’t. I know that if I see her I’ll lose it, especially if…

“Taeyong, is she with that guy in the pictures?”

Taeyong’s face answers before his lips.

“He’s in the group. Yes.”

I press my eyes shut again. . Okay, think, Kai, think. Actually you know what, don’t think—just walk right ahead, go into the VVIP section, and act like you never heard this piece of information.

“Kai, I know this probably won’t help,” Chanyeol begins, “but she’s looking this way.”

I ball my fists, trying to control my breathing, trying to get it in my head that Seo Iseul is actually within visible distance from me. How long? How long has it been?

“Is she—do you think she can see me?”

“It’s hard to tell. Given the distance and how dark it is she shouldn’t be able to see anything definitive but…”

“What? What?”

“She—well, she’s staring. She might have realized something.”

. The better part of me wishes she never saw anything because I bet her night would just be better that way. But the honest part of me…

There’s only one thing that’s eating up my curiosity.

“That guy,” I ask, still not turning my head in her direction because I don’t trust myself enough to see, “relative to where she’s sitting, where is he?”

D.O.’s eyes flicker to me doubtfully for a moment. “He’s right beside her. They’re talking.”

“How does she look?”

“Kai, maybe you should just see for yourse—”

“I can’t,” I say, almost begging. “I don’t know how long it’ll take me to recover again.”

It’s not just a matter of missing her. It’s the regret, the self-loathing for the pain I drew on her face, the guilt of cruelly lying about my feelings. I don’t know if I can pull myself out of that vortex again.

D.O. sighs. “She looks well. Right now she… she looks a bit stricken, so I think you really need to keep moving or do somethi—”

He breaks off mid-sentence.

“What? What??”

Something about the surprise and the change of music shatters my concentration and resolve. Before I can catch myself, my head moves on its own accord—turning to the left and looking straight at my 8 o’clock.

Just in time for me to catch it.

I only have tunnel vision for her. Seo Iseul is really there, in flesh, looking like an angel but as unreal as a ghost. Hell, I can’t stop staring. She’s looking at that Lucas guy, while I’m only looking at her. She looks exactly like I remember…

Suddenly, Lucas leans in. . It all happens so quickly—he leans in, her head moves a little, and my heart plunges to my feet.

I don’t think I can bear to see them kiss.

My fight or flight instinct freezes for a split second before I go for the latter.

I briefly look at Taeyong. “Just make sure nothing happens to her, okay?”

And without warning, I break into a stride again. I move quickly because I need to get as far away as I can from that scene.

I know I said I’ll be ready—I’ll be ready for the day she meets her new person but no amount of mental reinforcement could ever prepare me to see it happening in front of me.

The pain feels like hot iron pressed to my chest and all I can think about is getting the strongest drink in this universe to extinguish it. I walk between the curtains without looking back, without hesitating.

Inside, the VVIP lounge is a completely different scene. Ironically, I laugh, because it’s like the universe is messing with me. It teased me with the one thing I want most in it, but then reminded me that I exist in a completely different world. Even without a drink, my head is spinning. I vaguely remember nodding to Dongwook before immediately collapsing on the couch where Suzy, and the rest of the gang are gathered. D.O. and Chanyeol follow.

“Whiskey. Neat,” I instruct, and one of the HOC men quickly scurries away. I rub my face.

“What? Did something go wrong?” Suho is instantly on high alert.

“No.”

Suho looks at the other guys who were with me in confusion. I’m not in the mood for talking so I let one of them do it.

“The meeting went well. Here, Kai got the ring back. Not sure if it’s a fake though. We also have an idea of what he’s trying to accomplish, now what we need to do is just make sure Youngmin actually dies this time,” D.O. explains, holding the small silver band up briefly.

“Youngmin,” Suzy repeats. “I haven’t heard that name in so long.”

“I know. So then why is he so depressed?” Sehun jerks his thumb at me.

D.O. and Chanyeol look at each other. “Iseul is outside.”

“WHAT!” The rest of the guys shout in unison, jumping to their feet.

Baek is the first to progress to the next stage of reaction. “Wait, for real? In the VIP section? But for that they’d need to book—Suzy, did you know about this? Is that why we’re here?”

“No I didn’t!” Suzy cries, probably frustrated at how we’re all immediately suspecting her. I keep quiet because I know what happened already and she’s telling the truth. “Dongwook would’ve checked everything, she must’ve gotten a table without booking! Is she with friends?”

Chanyeol nods. “Yeah, work friends.”

I can’t help but scoff at that. Friends. Where’s that goddamn whiskey?

“Did they see each other?” Suho asks, looking at me. I notice Suzy glancing at me too, somewhat apprehensively.

“It was dark and she was several feet away, so I’m not sure if she could see if it was Kai specifically. There wasn’t any direct eye contact or anything either, but I think…” D.O. pauses, “I think she had a feeling. She just kept looking in his d