There was a cold silence that followed after their conversation, and despite the uncomfortable stinging in her knees, Seulgi kept mum as Yeri led her down a hallway that was tight and dimly lit, almost as if riot-proof. It made her dizzy, the way there were so many twists and turns, all seeming to blend together into a maze of endless looping. At one point, Seulgi wondered if Yeri was just making her spin in circles to throw her off track from memorizing the layout of the building’s interior. Not that she had much of a plan to escape in the first place, even with her wrists now free.

            After what seemed like thirty minutes of walking on just the same floor alone, Yeri stopped in front of huge, metal doors and pressed her palm to a flat screen that emitted a green light as it scanned her hand. Seulgi eyed the verification message it displayed after a sharp beep: it listed Yeri’s name (just Yeri and nothing else—they might have been code names) and position, followed by the phrase ‘RV.’ The monolidded girl felt her finger twitch once more at the urge to pull out her memos and record the information, but it was risky and only second-in-importance to her situation of life and death. Seulgi wasn’t sure who this Irene person was, what was meant by RV, and why Yeri hadn’t killed her yet, but her phone was in the younger girl’s jacket pocket and if she didn’t get her leg cleaned up soon, she could well die of something more painful and stretched out than a blow to the head.

            The doors opened with a grating sound to reveal a cool metal interior lined by steel railing. Yeri jerked her head for Seulgi to follow her, so the latter cautiously stepped in to see that they were in an elevator with a see-through bottom that revealed a pitch-dark blackness endlessly stretching under their feet. Seulgi gulped and faced forward as Yeri pressed her thumb to yet another biometric verification scan before selecting the highest floor. She then turned to Seulgi and cocked an eyebrow.

            “You memorizing the structure or something? You’ve been staring at everything since you came into the building.”

            Seulgi pressed her lips together and didn’t answer, prompting Yeri to scoff.

            “If you think that silence will buy you time, you can scrap that idea now.” She leaned towards Seulgi with a dangerous smirk. “Once you see the boss, there’s no guarantee that you’ll walk away with enough intact to ever communicate with anyone again. Unless she takes you under her wing.”

            “Is there a reason you haven’t just killed me?” Seulgi set her jaw defiantly and met Yeri’s amused stare with what she hoped was a blank expression. Yeri clucked her tongue and leaned against the railing.

            “I told you, Irene wants to meet you. She’s always had this mysterious side to her that even I haven’t quite figured out, so she does things we can’t understand at times. I’m just her underboss.” Yeri shrugged, gazing at Seulgi with an innocent facade, eyebrows lifted, eyes wide. Just a twenty-four year old following orders, if anyone else saw her. “If the boss tells me to bring the journalist, I bring the journalist.”

            Seulgi narrowed her eyes. “I told you, I have nothing to do with that business anymore.”

            “Oh, sorry. Ex-journalist,” Yeri said mockingly. The elevator dinged. “But whatever business you’ve currently taken up doesn’t sit well with Irene regardless, so you’re coming with me.” She stepped off the elevator and crooked a finger over her shoulder without looking at Seulgi for the older girl to follow her. “Should’ve thought twice before meddling in things you’ve already been rejected from.”

            Seulgi gritted her teeth and stepped out. The design was a lot different in this new location, and she noticed several expensive-looking paintings lining the pristine white walls. Almost too white. She could’ve mistaken them for having recently been painted, and Seulgi wouldn’t at all be surprised if that was actually the case, given the nature of the people inhabiting the building.

            “Are these paintings stolen?”

            Yeri glanced quickly over her shoulder and let out a nonchalant grunt. “Why, so you can build an even bigger case against us?” She stopped and turned abruptly, sweeping her hands out in front of her in a grand gesture. “Underground network with a monopoly over Seoul nightclubs: actually a location of stolen artwork?” She grinned maniacally. “Maybe I should’ve been the journalist.”

            Seulgi eyed her skeptically. “With your skewed sense of justice, no one would hire you.”

            “I could just work tabloid media or something. You know, where all the stupid rats go to ruin people’s lives. I’m quite familiar with that field already, given that I’ve probably scarred more than one family for a business deal gone wrong.” She tapped her chest, where her gun was hidden inside. “Our weapons may be different, but you get what I’m saying.”

            Seulgi shuddered at the dark implication. “You’re…”

            “Evil?” Yeri interrupted. “Despicable? Cold?” She laughed. “Tell me something I haven’t heard already. It’s really zero impact when you tell me that, because people have literally screamed Satanic curses to damn the next three generations of my family at me while on their knees, bleeding everywhere. You just look like some sort of superhero wannabe who still hasn’t recognized that I’ve got something that fires quicker than you can transform.”

            “You’re horrible.”

            “Eh. Try again.” Yeri stretched lazily. “So are you gonna come with me or do I have to shoot your knees and drag you? We don’t have time to chit-chat all day. Irene’s waiting.”

            “Jesus, I’ll go, alright?” Seulgi begrudgingly stepped forward, trying not to let Yeri’s words get to her. She was an ex-investigative journalist; she had to keep her head level. “Anything I need to know about Irene before we meet? Wouldn’t want to upset her now, do I?” she drawled slyly, half in an attempt to save her by doing exactly as Yeri answered and the other half to grab at information, as per her work addiction.

            “You won’t get to see her unless she wants you to see her.” Yeri tapped a finger on her chin exaggeratedly and hummed. “Oh, and she’s easily the smartest, most intuitive person to exist in Korea. Like, her IQ has got to be in the two-hundreds range, because I haven’t seen a single person outsmart her in any operations despite the fact that she barely uses physical force to intimidate anyone.”

            Great. Seulgi was up against a psychopathic genius. “Alright, so don’t lie to her. Anything else?”

            One corner of Yeri’s lips quirked up. “Yeah, don’t lie to her,” she said, emphasizing the statement with a pointed look at the taller girl. “And she likes to see clearly whatever she owns.”

            “What do you mean by that?”

            Yeri waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, you’ll find out. You coming or not?”

            Seulgi nodded and trailed the younger girl. While this floor had less twists and turns, it was still enough for Seulgi to lose track of all direction, and she soon found herself giving up on memorizing the route. How Yeri managed to memorize the layout astonished her, although given that the young underboss had been working for whatever this was for eleven years was a pretty plausible explanation for a lot of her conduct.

            They soon came to a stop in front of a set of huge, wooden doors that were entirely different in vibe than the plain entrance of the room Seulgi had previously been in. Yeri knocked this time around, instead of conducting biometric verifications as with the other rooms and contraptions, and there was a moment of silence before a short sound rang out from the door, followed by the sound of something unlocking. Seulgi saw the door push outward a bit, and Yeri pulled it open without much effort despite how heavy it looked. A slight chill was the first thing to welcome Seulgi as she stepped in by Yeri’s gesture to enter first. The room was dark, the blinds closed, and a single futuristic designer lamp illuminated a clear, glass plaque on what seemed to be a mahogany desk. Seulgi couldn’t quite make out the name on the plaque but she saw that the chair behind the desk was facing away from her as if in some cliché movie. She bit her lip to contain her rather inappropriately timed laughter, although some of it escaped her in the form of a choking cough.

            “I didn’t expect to be greeted like that of all ways.”

            The voice that drifted into the open room was surprisingly polite and soft, prompting Seulgi to widen her eyes and instinctively bow her upper body. Yeri snorted from besides her and signalled for her to stand up straight.

            “This one’s quite feisty. I’m still not sure why you called for her, but she’ll be fun to talk to.”

            “I put up with you every single day, Yeri. I don’t think anyone can get much more feisty than you.”

            Seulgi could barely make out the pout on Yeri’s face, something that she thought seemed so out of place in this dark room of a supposed mafia boss. Some clicking sounds resounded from across the room where Irene (Seulgi presumed) sat in the turned chair.

            “You can take a seat, you know. Your knee must hurt.”

            The monolidded girl flinched in surprise at the unexpected observation of her being through means unknown to her before throwing a sideways glance at Yeri, who seemed to shrug and vaguely motion towards the sofas. Seulgi let her take the lead and cautiously perched herself onto expensive leather. The person at the desk didn’t join them.

            “I assume you know who I am. Is that correct, Kang Seulgi?”

            Seulgi tapped a finger experimentally against her now dried knee. It still stung a bit, but it had stopped bleeding. “Yeri told me I would be meeting Irene.”

            “And Irene you have met.” The figure, Irene, snapped her fingers. “Yeri, her knee.”

            “Sorry, boss.”

            Seulgi watched as Yeri slinked away from her small field of visibility to some other swath of darkness, only to return with a small box that was set on the coffee table in front of her. The writer raised an eyebrow and stared at the dark cross barely standing out against the white background via some light from the desk.

            “For your knee, Ms. Kang. Unless you’d like for Yeri to treat you instead.”

            That was enough to snap Seulgi back to her senses as she hurriedly opened the first aid kit and dug through the contents blindly to grab antibacterial ointment and bandages. She fumbled for a while before hearing two soft claps. The ceiling lights . A stolen glance showed that the desk lamp turned off.

            “If you don’t mind, it would be nice if you could proceed with a bit more celerity. I have places to be.”

            “How did you know about my knee?” Seulgi blurted out. Damn, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Her hand froze, hovering over some gauze.

            She was answered by a tinkling laugh that was more commonly found in lovestruck college girls than in bosses of deadly organizations. “You’re not as observant as I thought you would be, Kang Seulgi. We have eyes everywhere.”

            Of course. How could she not think of that. Seulgi bit her lip and picked up the necessary materials before bending over to dab away at the blood with the alcohol-soaked cotton pads in her hands. She hissed slightly before applying the medication and covering up her k