"YAH!"

 

I'll be damned if I'm about to let that thieve run off with my wallet.

 

The thing is, my legs were never, how to say, lengthwise blessed? In fact, I was quite of a vertically challenged breed of person.

 

Either way, I sprinted after him as best as I could, dodging the crowd now gathering down in the metro station. I ran up the stairs, trying my best not to lose sight of him. He was dressed in all black, from is combat boots clad feet, to his leather jacket. His head was covered by a beanie of the same color. I couldn't see his face from where I was positioned, but as he turned left on the next street, I noticed he was wearing a black mask.

 

I started to feel a pang on the side of my ribs and my legs begun to burn in complaint, but I didn't stop.

 

Could I stop and just let it go? Yes.

 

Would I stop and just let it go? No.

 

Why would I not stop and let it go? Because my father's silver pocket watch was in there. 

 

And I'd be dead if I lost it. The item had passed down through the generations in my family. 

 

Sweet. 

 

I'd be the one to up over two centuries of history.

 

The burglar took another turn, towards the industrial area of the city. I was ready to pass out right there and then, but I somehow managed to follow behind.

 

"YOU! STOP!" I ridiculously shouted, as though that would miraculously solve the whole thing.

 

Obviously, he didn't. In fact, it seemed to me that his apparently tireless legs just took it upon themselves to sprint faster.

 

He took yet another turn, a few meters ahead of me. When I reached that point and looked, nobody was there any longer.

 

"What the f...?" 

 

I panted, holding down on my stinging side as I frantically looked for any traces of his presence. However, no living soul lingered in that street, save for a pair of pigeons that had somehow found a piece of cardboard ever so interesting.

 

The street wasn't a dead end, but he hadn't kept running ahead, that would be impossible given the it was a long road with no turns and I didn't see him. It was the in between of a warehouse and an old, three story building. Nothing but a row of four dumpsters occupied either of the sidewalks.

 

So where the hell could he be?

 

He can't just freaking teleport now, can he? 

 

I thought, aimlessly walking in the middle of the road, looking at the concrete walls on either side, littered with sketchy graffitis. I wouldn't be found dead walking this side of Seoul any day of my life during morning, let alone at night. 

 

But alas, there I was, edging on 7PM and all too aware of the sky darkening by the minute.

 

I ran a hand through my sweat damp hair, huffing as I started to despair when I realized I was utterly and undeniably lost.

 

The industrial area of the city was known for its sky rocket high crime rates - everything from drug dealing to murders took place around here given the chance and guess who's now in the very pit of it?

 

That's right.

 

Park ing Jimin.

 

I was startled when I heard voices and literally threw myself behind one of the dumpsters, gagging at the rotting smell maneuvering its way out of it. 

 

I saw, through a gap, a group of dubious looking young men making their way around the corner.

 

"I'm tellin' ya', I saw a preppie kid runnin' this way." 

 

I swallowed a dry lump in my throat.

 

"There's no one here dude, the hell." One of his friends groaned.

 

"Let's get goin' man." Another huffed.

 

"Y'all didn't see but he looked loaded as e!" The first one barked.

 

I heard him step closer, pacing around. He was probably as confused as I was when the thief literally vanished around the corner. 

 

"I swear I can still smell that rich er." He spat, just right in front of the dumpster I was hiding behind. 

 

I'm dead. Goodbye world. 

 

"I'm outta here bro." One of the guys said boringly, turning around and starting to leave.

 

Displeased, the first one growled a frustrated sound and turned to follow the rest of his crew.

 

And I would have survived it, perhaps, if my hand hadn't bumped against and knocked over an empty beer bottle that stupidly sat right by my side.

 

After that, not five seconds passed for me to already be hoisted upright and against the wall by the collar of my button up shirt.

 

"I told y'all!" The guy near yelled in excitement. "I know a wealthy bird when I see one."

 

His face was inches from mine, so much I could smell the alcohol's reek in his filthy breath. His eyes were bloodshot and one side of his face was covered by gawky, thick-lined tattoos.

 

"Would ya' look at that..." One of his friends snickered, partly praising the fact his friend was right and partly referring to my person.

 

A third guy approached and starting patting around my pockets. 

 

"No wallet? Tsh! What a waste of time."

 

"Guess we'll just have to keep ya' and call yer' daddy... Let's see how much he's willin' to pay." The one holding me still shrugged.

 

"Look at his fine hair." Another mused. "Filthy rich I'm betting. Do ya' even know what the ya've gotten yer'self stuck in, kid?" 

 

I gulped, shutting my eyes and facing away from him as I felt him inch closer.

 

"Such a catch, this one! Should I even give him back to daddy once he pays up?" He fake-pondered. "Nah'... I like art ya' know? I'd love to see that pretty skin of yours hanging on ma' wall." 

 

He breathed so close I actually did gag.

 

"Rude." He growled, displeased at display of disgust. "How 'bout I flay ya' alive right in' now?"

 

"I'll him first." The taller one said, eyeing me head to toe and grabbing his crotch.

 

If I was already in panic, I started to hyperventilate.

 

All of them laughed in agreement, closing in on me.

 

"Let me go!" I whimpered, finding a thread of voice and starting to thrash my arms and legs.

 

"Did I tell ya' to speak?" The man roared, raising his hand.

 

I braced myself for the impact.

 

"Let the kid go."

 

Just about as startled as myself, the guy holding me hostage looked over his shoulder.

 

"Min." He spat. "The do ya' want?"

 

My eyes grew wide as I saw him - the boy who stole my wallet.

 

He sat, unbothered, on a windowsill I had definitely not noticed all along.