Soft breaths stuttering out of him, Kyungsoo’s eyes burned into the wall in front of him, the metal restraints on his wrists digging into his skin. The room had a musty smell, fresh of drying blood clouding the room. The mask was making it hard to breathe, as he tried to withstand the pain in his left shoulder, the bullet wound still throbbing. The clamps on his legs strained against his thighs.

The click-clack of dress shoes against the floor as it came closer to what he presumed what was the door behind him. The squeaking and grinding as the door skids across the ground. Kyungsoo hums softly to himself, the taps of the shoes the only said to hear besides the closing of the steel?door. He chuckles softly beside himself, his mouth opening to release a full bellowed laugh. The sound hoarse from the hours he was deprived of any type of food or water.

“I don't understand what's so funny.” A velvety voice drifted throughout the room. A suave man steps into his line of vision, and Kyungsoo’s eyes follow the male's movements. The man motioned to the men with him - a ridiculously tall man with dumbo ears and way too bright hair and a male with enough eyeliner on one would think he was a stripper at a nightclub - to take off the mask that was covering his face.

“Steel-toed shoes? Honestly? Couldn't find something that would cause, I don't know, less noise?” A grin presents itself into his lips, pulling one of the sides upwards awkwardly, as he spoke the first words he has for days. His voice was hoarse, most similar to the sound of a creaking door, very rustic. His usually deep, soft voice was crackly due to the disuse of his vocal cords. The reason he was able to deceive so many people was partly because of his voice.

The male scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Now, now…” A glint enters his eyes as he got closer to restrained man. A hand tangles itself into the short cut hair. Pulling on it, he stares down at the hitman. “Let's not forget who has the real power here, shall we?” A small smile graces his lips but doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Kyungsoo huffed, looking straight into the man's eyes. “Power? Sweetheart, I could kill you without even getting out of these restraints.”

The male stares at the other, a challenge evident in his eyes. A smirk appears on his face. “Is that so? Choi Minho, I’d like to talk business with you.”

“What makes you think I’m going to agree to do business with you?” Kyungsoo challenges, his eyes searching the other man’s face for any way of knowing what exactly was going inside the male’s mind. It was improbable that the man was going to set him free - no one would do that - and he doubted the other man only wanted him to kill one person, so what was he planning? The very thought of having to deal with this pisses him off to no end. “What’s in it for me?”

“I could set you free, all the while offering you a job. A permanent one.” Minho chuckled softly before leaning on the heels of his feet. “Of course, it’s not like you have much of a choice either.” A brief shrug, as he grinned, the edges of his mouth pulling up evenly. It was calculated, just like his words.

“What’re you going to do, kill me? That wouldn’t do much good, would it?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. He’s been in this position a number of times before; he would talk his way out of this one too.

Minho seems to give the idea a small thought. “No- no that’d be a waste… But… Maybe your little sister, Soojung-ah, would like a visit.”

Kyungsoo schooled his face, his eyes piercing into the man. The others grin broadened. “Ah, ah, she goes to Seoul University, no? Such a smart one you have there. Smart and pretty- she’ll go for a nice price on the market.” He slips his hand out of the greasy, short cut hair, a small look of disgust clear on his face.

Kyungsoo grits his teeth together, his breathing and heart beat rapidly increasing. “Don’t.” He growled out, his arms tensing underneath the restraints. “I’ll-” He cut himself.

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll…” He sighs softly, trying to calm himself. “I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” A snicker caused Kyungsoo to tear his eyes off of Minho to glare at the red-headed boy.

“I’ll talk business, join you, whatever the you wanna call it.” Kyungsoo ground out, his hands clenching and unclenching. “As long as- Don’t you ing touch her.”

Minho chuckled softly. “Now, there’s a good boy. I’m going to take off the restraints, alright? I expect you to know better than to try anything… That would be rather unpleasant...” He asked, almost like he was talking to a dog.

Kyungsoo scowls, before nodding his head, not trusting his own voice. He ing hated being outsmarted. No one had been able to dig up his past before. The red-haired boy and the eyeliner boy (Kyungsoo just figures it’s better to simply call him Eyeliner for now.) slowly take off his restraints. He sighs in a sense of relief, stretching his arms, feeling the joints in his body pop as he finally is able to regain feeling in his limbs.

As he stood, the cold floor chills his feet, causing a shiver to pass through his body. He had, and has, always hated the cold since he was younger. It brought unwanted memories. His eyes sweep over to the two men, who seem rather unworried. They had no idea.

Minho has already taken a few steps away from the others, expecting the other three to soon follow him. He didn’t have all day to wait for them. The shorter man that had come in with Minho was following him quickly, but Chanyeol stayed behind.

Kyungsoo his bottom lip, clenching and unclenching his hands, trying to regain feeling in them. With all feeling slowly coming back into his body, he hops lightly, just to test the spring in his step. The red-headed boy places a hand on the others shoulder, a creepily wide smile forming. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it.” He leans in to whisper. A deep chuckle quickly follows.

“Chanyeol, get away from him.” Ah. So his name was Chanyeol. Chanyeol grumbles under his breath, before nodding and moving away from the shorter man. Kyungsoo tilts his head, looking at the other male thoughtfully. He was right. He didn’t know where the exit in the building let alone what city, or even country he was in, It wouldn’t be a wise move. At least not on his part.

Giving the man a curt nod, he walks after Minho, the soft pitter-patter of his feet and the tapping of the others the only sound in the hallway.

It was strangely calming.

----

Kyungsoo was led to a nice burgundy door; the door itself was made out of wood (was that redwood?) with fancy designs. From the way it slowly creaked open, it was quite heavy duty, too. Damn. He scowls at the idea of maybe, just maybe, breaking down the door. It wouldn’t be possible with the obviously strong hinges of the door itself, along with the actual thickness of the door. He throws that idea out of the window. He honestly might as well just go with what they were about to tell him.

Inside of the room was a hardwood desk ( bolted to the ground, too . Kyungsoo tsks.) and few chairs that indicated, quite obviously, that this was an interrogation room. Quite a fancy one, too, Kyungsoo has to admit. The carpet on the floor was a pristine white, the walls in a pretty dark red. He knew if this was 10 years ago, he would have been in awe. But this wasn’t 10 years ago, and he wasn’t. Slowly, after getting so many clients, things like fancy rooms and houses were no longer as beautiful as they had seemed before. It had slowly became dull for him. Pretty and handsome faces, fancy and beautiful houses all blurring. It was just a job, after all. No need to remember who he’s killed or protected.

Minho, of course, led them into the room itself. The sunshine coming in through the window surprised him. Huh. Haven’t seen that for days… He thinks bitterly. A rough push has him stumble through the door. Glaring at Eyeliner, he grits his teeth. It wouldn’t do him any good to cause any commotion. If he was going to be able to get out, he was going to have to play by their rules.

“Take a seat.” The boy barks, and it takes all of Kyungsoo’s patience to not knock the little smug smirk the boy has on his pretty little face. Instead, he sits down. As the boy tries to take his own seat, Kyungsoo’s legs push out to knock the chair away. The clatter of the chair was the only noise as the boy falls flat on his . Kyungsoo lets a smug grin of his own form on his face. Revenge has always been sweet. At least it was for Kyungsoo. The boy picks himself quickly, fury evident on his face. His cheeks were turning a nice shade of pink. Chanyeol was hunching over, trying (and failing) to keep his choked laughter under control.

“Baekhyun,” Minho sighs, his lips were pulled into a frown as he sent Chanyeol a sharp look. That shut the blubbering elephant up. Kyungsoo almost smiled. The man looked at Kyungsoo in exasperation. “Is this really what I should expect from a professional hitman? No less, the number one hitman?”

Kyungsoo scoffs, “Sorry to disappoint you, sir. I believe a man… Taemin, was it? He’s the number one, now. My rank is much lower, now.”

“And that’s exactly why we want you.”

“We as in who?”

“Lotto.” Ah, makes sense. Lotto was a brand new, up and coming gang, no- business. They did the dirty work of the underground bosses. Did a damn good job of it too, from what he has been hearing. Was taking all of the business away from his original agency. It was quite frustrating, considering they were taking away from his paycheck, but he knows better than to cause any ruckus over the loss of a few dollars.

“Anyway, I still don’t quite understand why you want me. I’m getting old, boys, believe it or not. I’m getting rusty.” It was true. He was hitting 27 now. That, in his own book, was getting old.

“Taking down 23 men, and another 7 after getting hit with a tranquilizer gun? I hardly believe that.” Alright, so maybe there was a little bit of a disconnect, where his age was even a problem.

“That wasn’t that much,” he grins. “A few years ago, I could have taken down at least 52.” Back when he was more rambunctious, and more daring ,taking all of the hardest jobs at the agency, he was the most feared. He’s way  past those days, now.

The grin slowly slips off his face as he lets out a dreary sigh. “Look, I get you. You want a used-to-be. It’ll cause your business to go up. But really, there isn’t much for me here.”

“We’ll pay you twice as much.” Kyungsoo hums softly, wondering where exactly they would get the money for that. He was one of the most paid hitmen in South Korea.

“Money is nice and all, but…” If they wanted him this badly, he’s going to get as much as he can out of them. It wasn’t like he was bound to his current company, anyway.

“We’re creating a program… For gene mutations. We want you to be part of it.” Kyungsoo, not usually one to let his emotions show unless he was taunting, raised an eyebrow at the sudden information.

“Ah, is that so?” Kyungsoo tries to process this information. Gene mutations. Like that X-Men ? “Alright. I accept your offer. Seems interesting enough. Now… about that payment.”