Hakyeon stocked the way to Hongbin’s apartment complex surprisingly well. In the heat of commotion, the path had somehow been engraved like a bad tattoo. He was worn. He was pissed. He was different. As he got closer, he found himself torn, and that surprised even himself.

The outside of the complex was pretty. No raccoons and rotting banana peels and puddles of questionable substances. The stone pots of flowers were nice. The exterior was a nice stone, too. The same stone used in the interior back at the offices.

It was two blocks from Hakyeon’s apartment. They were all government granted, all the apartments over here. Hakyeon should have showered. No way he could at his place. Only time to grab clothes. They didn’t even match. Someone probably noticed how disgusting he looked. No way he would afford to spend a day looking like this.

“Sorry,” Jaehwan jumped into his mind. “No time to call right now.”

If whatever thing polluted his system was out, he would be okay. If Hongbin was taken in, exposed, as he’d surely go back to work like a good boy, he’d be exposed and Hakyeon would be a hero. What’d he’d always wanted. A hero.

Hakyeon found the hallway that led to his room. Though he wasn’t sure which number. Just something on the top floor. These doors looked polished. Dang, even the room numbers were lined in silver. How did Hongbin, fresh meat in the business, get such an extravagant setup? However extravagant riches you can afford Hongbin, I’ll outwit you. Mind reading or not. Hakyeon flipped open the long edged pocket knife that he’d been awarded after his 50th capture.

Then he heard voices and the door on the left opened, out walking two older people, a man and a woman. Hakyeon stunted, and flipped to the other side of the door as to not be seen. The man was practically storming away and the woman turned back and screamed, “You’re not going back.”

He got a whiff of cologne that smelled a awful lot like Chanel, his cologne of choice, too. They were muttering, which grew into all out bickering as the pair descended the stairwell. He dared not peek his head around, so he squinted through the crack in between the door and the wall, as the door was still well open. There was the couch, and a very nice HD Television set. A fur rug on the wood floors. The decor inside made the building’s front look like a dump. Hongbin flopped down onto the couch with his hands over his face. Bingo.

“Rough day?”

Hongbin startled as Hakyeon walked in. “What’re you doing here?”

He held the knife at his side, making it clear that it was an option if he got a little ticked-off. He looked down at Hongbin. “I’ve come for revenge. If what you’ve said about all this is true, you’re no longer my partner. You’re a low case. I hunt low cases.”

Hongbin’s lip twisted. “Now’s not a good time, but-”

“Not a good time?”

“You saw that, right? Huh, I’m embarrassed. My parents are always like that. Fighting. They heard about the big fiasco with my partner getting sent to the hospital and then going missing. They don’t want me going back. They want me to switch departments. So annoying.”

Hakyeon got right into his face. “Read. My. Mind.”

It took Hongbin a second to look at the key points on Hakyeon’s face, then he moved back up to his eyes. Hongbin glared. Hakyeon held the blade up to his chin, tipping his head back.

“I read _____’s thoughts before, ya know,” Hongbin’s voice quivered. “Her and Leo, her target, started out kinda like this. She threatened him just like what you’re doing.”

“Stop playing around with me.”

“Fine then, what do you want?”

“I want you to pay. Did you even think for a minute that spewing all this nonsense-”

“I saved your life,” the corner of his lip curled up. “So sue me.”

Hakyeon growled.

“But Hakyeon, you are alive.”

“The ’s that supposed to mean?”

“Can’t we take a walk?” Hongbin pinched the blade with his two fingers, bending his neck back. “I don’t like knives. Can’t we talk without this? I won’t run away.”

Hakyeon exhaled sharply through his nose.

***

“Did you contact your other friends? They were kinda worried about you,” Hongbin said as he leaned over the guard rail. His striped red polo reminded Hakyeon of a sailor, the bars of the rail crisscrossing with the pattern. What a clash.

“We didn’t come out here to talk about them. Besides, how could I?” Hakyeon admitted, looking out