2.

"So I heard you got a good whipping?"

Eyebrow twitching, JongIn flashes a warning glare at the male sitting in the corner of the conference room. He would've barked louder if the new carbon-fibre AK-47 sitting on the guys lap didn't look so intimidating. So JongIn just opted for a simple, "shut up," before sitting down on the opposite side of the large table from the male.

Shoulders shaking with uncontrolled silent laughter, the guy shakes his head in amusement as he resumes wiping the gun on his lap with a clean cloth. He took pride in his guns, as well as his position as the teams gun-handler.

"Baekhyun, one of these days, JongIn is going to grab one of your guns and shove it up your--"

"Chanyeol, language!" SeHun interrupts, shifting in his seat next to JongIn. He was the only one in their sector that was the same age as JongIn. He was known for his polite speech and quiet demeanor. And although he looked gentle and calm, he was probably the only one that could last a good sparring match with JongIn; the infamous top-notch soldier who graduated with perfect scores from State Camp.

"Yes, mother," Chanyeol says, rolling his eyes. He and SeHun were on the opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to personalities. He was outspoken, playful and sarcastic, while SeHun was, to say the least, like a perfect epitome of a mother-in-law.

"How are your broken ribs?" KyungSoo asks, turning to JongIn and carefully watching at how rigid the younger boy was sitting. It seemed like the pain was still there.

SeHun turns to JongIn with wide, fretful eyes. "Broken ribs?" he whips his head back towards Chanyeol with narrowed eyes, "just what kind of simulation are you making? They're not usually that dangerous."

"That's because those were all programmed to be flawed and beaten, it's made for the weaker soldiers to boost their stamina and strength." Chanyeol waves his hands, brushing the topic away from him, "Like I told JongIn, it's still in the developing stages. I'll fix it up later."

"Poor JongIn baby, because of his superior combat skills, he was chosen as the scapegoat for Chanyeol's new toy," Baekhyun says, smirking. He had nothing against the poor boy, it was quite the opposite actually. He doted too much on JongIn, so thus, a counter-personality that constantly teased the young boy developed.

Closing his eyes and letting out a soft hiss, JongIn sits quietly, ignoring everything and everyone around him. His mind was too preoccupied by the faint throbbing of his abdomen to be worked up over Baekhyun's never ending harassments.

"One of these days, I think I'll die from a headache in this room rather than out in combat," the figure at the head of the table mutters, rubbing his temples. He meets KyungSoo's sympathetic gaze and sighs.

"Don't fret, JoonMyun, if that does happen we'll make sure to hold the most grande funeral for the world's greatest sector leader," Chanyeol says, mock saluting, to which Baekhyun also follows. The two crack up in hysteric chuckles as they make eye contact and see each other's solemn expression.

"Why are they such kids," SeHun sighs, shaking his head in dismay at the actions of the men, who are in terms of age, older than him; but he could hardly believe it.

JongIn simply sat there, silent and eyes closed, but a grin helplessly tugged at the corners of his lips.

Unable to see their leader being annoyed to death, KyungSoo comes to the rescue. "So what's this briefing about?"

Thankful, JoonMyun runs a hand through his hair and picks up the wireless remote. He turns off the room lights and clicks a button as an image is screened onto the wall. "You guys remember the information we retrieved last month involving the Japanese Yakuza and their involvement on these new drugs?"

Everyone nods their heads, their eyes fixed onto the image of the drug on the screen.

The drug came in many forms: pills, powder, injections, inhalants, you name it. But the color was always the same in every form, a bloody red. Thus the name, "Blood Wine" was given to it, as from