Jongup slowly roared to a stop outside of the Golden Harvest Hotel, dropping his keys in the hands of the valet who approached him and taking small slip of paper he was given. With a curt nod, Jongup brushed past him and walked toward the door.

“Good evening sir, will you be checking in with us today?” Jongup glanced to his left at the elderly man at the entrance desk. After hesitating only a moment, he sighed and moved toward him.

“I need to get to the top floor dining room,” he said coolly.

The man looked him over, his eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry sir,” he said in the same tone. “I’m afraid that room is reserved tonight.”

Jongup rose a brow. “Is that so? No doubt, considering who my boss so happens to be,” he said quietly. “Now, unless you want this lobby to suddenly turn into the crime scene of the century, I suggest you let me get to dinner before Mato grows impatient.”

The old man sniffed disdainfully, though a small amount of fear sparked in his gaze. “I’ll need a name. If you’re not on the list, I can’t let you up.”

With a huff, Jongup leaned in close enough that only the old man could hear him when he spoke his name. The effect was immediate as his breath hitched and he fumbled with the papers in his hand, his pen falling to the floor with a clatter.

“So sorry, sir,” he said in a rush. Hurriedly, he set down everything in his grip and straightened his suit jacket. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you straight up.”

Jongup followed just behind the elder as they made their way to the top floor and toward a simple wooden door. A large, buff man stepped toward them, raising a hand. When Jongup made to simply step around him, the hand was placed on his shoulder. Within half a second, a glinting blade was pressed against the larger man’s throat.

“Do not touch me,” Jongup said lowly.

The two stared each other down for several minutes, matching scowls on their faces.

“Songhun, would you be so kind as to find why our guest is taking so long?”

A muffled voice came through the door, another following only a second later. Jongup’s keen ears picked up the footsteps approaching long before the door was opened, and so he was not surprised when it swung open.

The room had a large, long table in the middle of it. One half was filled with people, about ten or so, and the other half completely empty. At the head of the table sat a striking young woman, who seemed to be the only one unsurprised by the scene that was revealed.

“Mr. Moon,” she said quietly. “It's good to see you. Do come inside.”

Jongup narrowed his eyes at the guard and flipped the knife away, not missing the deep breath of relief he took the moment he was in the clear. Silently, he turned and stalked into the room. The woman gestured to the chair at her right, and Jongup sat quickly, ignoring the shocked expressions of the others at the table. Songhun sat directly across from him, smiling at him softly.

“Welcome to dinner, Mr. Moon. I am Mato, and you already know Mr. Min Songhun.” Jongup dipped his head to the both of them. “These are some of our highest associates within the organization.” She went on to introduce the people seated around them, each person giving him a respectful nod, but failing to meet his eyes. Jongup let his gaze slide over each of them passively, his expression blank.

“Mr. Moon here will be taking over Bang’s position.”

A few shocked murmurs rose from the table, and a middle-aged man tentatively spoke up. “With all due respect, ma’am, I didn’t think the position was open.”

Mato rose a brow, eyeing the man from her place at the head of the table. “It wasn’t,” she said coolly. “However, Moon has proven his skill more in a week than Bang has in the fifteen years he worked with us. The position opened for him. Bang has been… let go.”

No one argued, though some of the looks toward Jongup grew venomous. The kind of glance that would have sent a normal person scurrying home.

Unfortunately for them, Jongup was no normal person.

“Moon.” Jongup nodded to show he was listening, but never removed his gaze from one of the men about halfway down the table, who met his eyes with a challenge. “All living and travel expenses will be covered by the Matoki, should you accept our offer. Any medical necessities will also be covered by us.”

Jongup, still without shifting his gaze, lifted a hand. “Does that include our... arrangement, as previously discussed?”

Mato nodded, watching the exchange between the two men with unabashed curiosity.  “Of course, of course,” she mumbled. “I hope you’ve found everything to your liking?”

Jongup nodded, tilting his head to better listen. “I have. It’ll take some getting used to, but that’s to be expected.”

“You’ll take the position, then?”

“I thought that was implied when I dropped everything and moved here,” Jongup said, raising a brow. “Of course I’ll be taking the position.”

Mato laughed lightly and waved a hand. “Better to be sure, Moon.”  Abruptly, she shifted her gaze to the man down the table. “Mr. Won,” she called sweetly. “What, exactly, are you doing?”

The man- Won- looked toward the head of the table, his eyes widening considerably at the sugar-sweet smile directed toward him. “Nothing, miss,” he stammered.

Mato rose a brow and cocked her head curiously. “Oh?” She turned to Jongup instead. “Mr. Moon? Is anything the matter?”

Jongup hummed and rose from his seat, undoing the cuff of his sleeve to allow his knife to fall into his palm. “I believe that Mr. Won is attempting to sell us out, Ms. Mato,” he said coldly.

Mato didn’t seem surprised, sighing slowly and flicking a wrist. “Well then, I suppose it’s time for you to secure your position with us,” she said softly.

Won’s eyes widened, fear shining in their depths, and he scrambled to his feet, his chair falling backward with a bang. “No! No, wait, please! I can- I can explain!”

Jongup sighed, long and low, as he slowly circled that table toward Won. He said nothing, but his mannerisms showed more threat than any words ever could. Won tried scrambling backward, only to trip on the fallen chair and hit the floor.

A flash of light, the sound of a blade cutting through the air, and Won lay dead on the rug, his throat sliced open and a pool of blood steadily growing around him.

Jongup stepped back, ignoring the stunned expressions around the table, and knelt on a clean part of the floor, leaning forward and running his hand carefully along the front of Won’s suit.

He stood again, and a wire rested in his hand, a tiny button lens on the end of it. With a click of his tongue, he lifted the camera up to eye level and crushed it between his fingers, allowing the small, splintered pieces of plastic to scatter on the ground. The microphone hidden behind Won’s ear was quickly destroyed in much the same way, and Jongup returned to his seat.

Mato sighed and flicked her wrist toward Songhun, who then rose and left the room for only a few moments before coming back with a few more men in tow. He took a seat as the newcomers began to clean up the body, and the room fell into silence until everything was cleaned up and the men were gone. Only then did she speak.

“You did well,” she said, the corner of her lips quirking into what could have been a smile. “I believe you’ll fit right in here.”

~*x*O*x*~

Soft laughter echoed around the hall as Jongup stepped off the elevator.

“Hyung, I’m surprised Haewon’s not killed you yet,” he said lightly. “I don’t know how she hasn’t left you, at least, with you acting like that.”

An older man gasped dramatically and placed his hand over his heart. “You wound me, Jongup!” he whined. “However could you be so cr-” He cut off with a cough as a sharp elbow slammed into his stomach and stumbled to a stop, leaning against the wall for support as he tried to get his breath back.

“Stop being annoying, hyung,” Jongup muttered, lifting his fist to knock on the door in front of him. There was no reply for several moments, and the elder man threw himself forward and looped his arms around Jongup’s neck, hanging limply over his back and whining wordlessly.

Himchan opened the door, and his eyes widened in surprise at the sight. “Jung, you’re back,” he said curiously, peering at the other man.

Jongup snorted. “Unfortunately,” he said. “Is Youngjae still here?”

Himchan nodded and stepped to the side. “Please, come in,” he said slowly. Jongup nodded once and stepped into the home, hardly hindered by the deadweight hanging from his shoulders. They reached the living room quickly, and Jongup stood in the entrance and watched silently for several moments, a small smile growing on his face as he watched Youngjae laugh and wave his hands emphatically, regaling the group with a story from his childhood.

Himchan stepped into the living room and sat on the couch again. “Jung is here, Youngjae-ah.” He gestured toward where Jongup stood.

Youngjae turned to face him, only for his brow to furrow at the sight of the other man. “Songhun-hyung?” he asked quietly, his tone obviously confused. “What are you doing here? It’s nearly midnight.”

Songhun visibly perked up at the sound of Youngjae’s voice, and he jumped back to his feet and rushed over to sit beside the man. “I needed to make sure my new boss’s house was adequate, of course!” he chirped, flashing a bright grin. “Wouldn’t want him living in some dump now, do we?”

At that, both Jongup and Youngjae laughed, and Daehyun and Himchan both seemed surprised at the sound, staring at Jongup with wide eyes.

Youngjae smacked Songhun’s shoulder, still laughing heartily. “Okay, hyung. Whatever you say,” he said lightly.

Songhun looked around, his eyes bright and curious. “So, are you going to introduce me?” he asked expectantly, looking up at Jongup.

With a heavy sigh, the youngest waved a hand. “Songhun-hyung, this is Kim HImchan, Choi Junhong, Bang Yongguk, and Jung Daehyun,” he said. “All of you, this is my hyung, Min Songhun.”

Songhun let out a small sound and regarded Yongguk and Daehyun. “Jung Daehyun, you say?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, ignoring the snickering coming from Youngjae. Daehyun himself cocked his head curiously. “The resemblance really is uncanny! And Bang Yongguk! I do believe I know a relative of yours!” Both of the men glanced at each other, but only Daehyun seemed to want to know more, though he wisely held his tongue.

“Youngjae-hyung,” Jongup called, raising a brow at the elder’s slightly annoyed look. “We have a busy day tomorrow. We should get home.”

Youngjae pouted. “But we were having fun, Jung-ah,” he whined. When Jongup only rolled