Yukwon was laid down on the couch of the living room. He was playing with a small ball that he threw high in the air and catch it when it headed back to him. He was bored out of his mind, and he sighed for the umpteenth time when his fingers wrapped around the soft sphere.

When Jiho had told him that he was – they – were coming back to South Korea, a few weeks ago, the young man was more excited than he ever been. He thought there would be action again, and blood, gunshots and fights. He thought they would get their old territory back, that they would solve old and almost forgotten problems their group had with others gangs. He thought they would find their friend right away and everything would be back to normal again.

But most of all, he thought they would track down and kill the responsible of the gang’s defeat. Yukwon wanted to kill the guys who made them ran away and hide where no one would find them.  

How wrong he was.

Because Jiho had something else in mind. He sure wanted to kill the gang that defeated them three years ago as much as Yukwon did, but it wasn't his priority. The leader wanted something different, and no one had any clue of what it could be. The blonde had kept it a secret, and he would reveal his ultimate plan when the time would be right.  

So Yukwon kept playing with his ball while listening to the news for the past three days. He had nothing else to do, and if he was being honest, the way the reporters were always saying the same things was definitely getting on his nerves. He was beginning to get tired of Jiho’s secret business too, bored of doing absolutely nothing all day. He wanted to go on the streets, have a good fight – point a gun at an innocent face, just to see the fear in their eyes. Just to feel frightening again.

Though, Yukwon wasn’t the only one going out of his mind. Everyone in the crappy apartment the men of Block B were living, was beginning to get irritated at their leader. Of course, Jiho had a plan, a good plan. But none of them knew about, not even his most trusted fellow member.

It was the evening of their third day back, and Yukwon’s ball kicked him in the eye when the sound of keys unlocking the front door distracted him. With a growl from the back of his throat, he sat upright, his back loudly cracking at the sudden change of position. Three men entered the living room, with unpleased looks on their faces. Lee Taeil – a short man, with a round face, small eyes covered by black glasses, arms and hands covered with tattoos – had papers in his hand, his eyes travelling through the letters to find anything interesting. It was mostly publicity papers, but a yellow envelop, right in the middle of this paperwork caught his eye.

With delicate fingers, Taeil unwrapped the document, rooting out the soft material of a letter. His gaze traveled down the writings, his lips parting more and more open as he finished to read. “Hey, guys.”

They weren’t listening. Jiho had found a place on the single comfortable and comfy chair in the living room, eyes locked on the television screen as he listening to any news that might concern him and his gang. Yukwon was playing with his ball once again, trying to throw the sphere higher and higher. He wasn’t really listening to the television though, already knowing what the reporters were repeating for the past three days.

The fourth man was named Lee Minhyuk, but he better liked to be referred as B-Bomb. He had bright blonde hair, something that easily reminded of a golden color, styled in an elegant twist under a black beanie. There was two, no three piercings hanging from his ears, jewelry around his neck and a displeased look on his face. 

He seemed pissed, to say the least. As if he just had an argument, or as if something he didn’t quite liked just happened. Minhyuk was the only one that heard Taeil, not finding any interest in the news on the screen. 

“What?” he asked harshly, eyebrows frowning even further at the elder’s look. The black-haired men said nothing back, his hands only giving him the paper. When Minhyuk read the note in his turn, Taeil could see his eyes glistening, and his lips contracted in a smile at every word he processed. “.” was all he said, pleased, clearing his throat as he scratched the back of his head. “Hey, Zico-yah!” he called, louder than before. “Kyung left a note.”

At the sound of his name, Jiho snapped his head towards the elder’s direction, mouth tightly shut when their eyes met. He took the piece of paper Minhyuk was handing him, a loud sigh escaping his lips to show his annoyance after being disturbed. In his turn, when his eyes read the few words on the paper, his mouth curled into a pleased grin, a loud chuckle following next. “Well, .” he added, eyes widening contently. 

Park Kyung, the one who left the message, was the gang’s eyes and ears. Well, it was true that Jiho needed WINNER’s help sometimes, but there was no one on this entire planet, that he trusted more than Kyung. They were best friends, to say the least – or partners, for a very, very long time.

And since he came back from wherever the hell they were, Jiho had send him looking for anything that might interest him. It was a pretty vague mission, I’ll admit, but Kyung knew exactly what it meant. He wasn’t Zico’s right hand for nothing. You see, he knew what it would involve, and what the leader was looking for. 

And that piece of paper, right in between Jiho’s fingers, told him that he had found something.

Yukwon got up from the couch, and read the letter as well, right behind the younger’s shoulder. “Meet you at Myundae Street.” He had a disconcerted look in his eyes, and when he raised his gaze to look at his fellow team members, he could also see the delight in their eyes. “Well, let’s move then." 

The loud hubbub that followed would be enough for the neighbors to complain about the noise. They were quick in their moves, packing precisely two bags to bring with them. The first one contained nothing else that money. It was Taeil who crouched in front of the couch and rooted out a large black case, that contained all of their cash. He counted, one, two, three… ten piles of money, that he quickly stuffed into the first bag.

The second one was Yukwon’s responsibility, and it contained a few guns. Nothing very fancy, just little somethings to embrace terror and fright to whoever they might encounter. It would be of good help for where they are heading.

When they were ready to leave, pistols in their belts and knifes in their boots, they locked the apartment, got down the stairs, entered the truck in the back-alley and started driving off.

In his message, Kyung told them where to find him. He wasn’t very precise in his note, but it was enough for Minhyuk to understand which location he sent. It wasn’t a very long ride, it was truly pretty short – they were already in the bad neighborhood, so after driving around a few blocks, they could already make out the raven hair of Kyung’s head, leaned against the wall of a disaffected building.

He wasn’t much taller than Taeil, he had chubby cheeks, a button nose and a not-so-innocent look in his eyes. He was very charming, even from afar, and his cute aura was enough to fool anyone. Like we usually say, never take anything at face value.

The engine died slowly as Minhyuk turned off the car. The four doors got slapped loudly as they close, the four men already approaching their mutual friend. “So, what d’you have?" 

“Illegal gun traffic, of course.” Kyung said to his leader, an annoying grin stuck on his face. Jiho’s smile grew larger as he patted the elder on the shoulder, approving on his work. He always knew he could count on him. Even though there weren’t many people on the street, Yukwon carefully looked around, exanimating every little corner of street where someone might recognize them. They must be quick. “Yangju Subway Station – it closed a few years ago, and that’s where the wonderful boys of iKON set a trading deal right at this moment.”

“Who the is iKON?” It came from the back of Taeil’s throat, quicker than Jiho would have expected. As far as he remembered, there was no gang named that way when they left.

“A new gang, appeared around last year. They’re young, leader isn’t older than twenty, he goes by the name B.I.” Jiho knew, of course he knew that there should be many new gangs who got formed while he was away, and he remembered being no younger than sixteen when he formed his own. It was becoming very real now that he thought about it.

They started walking, head low and one or two bandanas covering their faces. They spotted the said disaffected subway stop, barriers scattered here and there to prevent anyone from going in. There was even an angry-looking red sign, informing them that they could enter a gas infected ground.

But hell if that kept them away. With one more look around, Yukwon was the last to get down the dusty stairs of the abandoned subway station. It was quickly dark, the old lights not powering their brightness around anymore. At the end of the stairs, they were met with two other people. 

Jaehyo and Jihoon were there earlier, guns already out and charged for whoever might cross their path. They didn’t need a speech, and they didn’t need a plan. That was always their particularity when it came to action – you scheme the whole picture, but details are always more fun when improvised.

So they did just that, reunited all together, guns in their hands – aimed at the distance as they walked further in the dark. From far away, voices could already be heard – unclear and distant, located further in the station.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here.” That was Jiho’s entrance, arrogant and calculated, exactly like he was himself. At the sound of his voice, a symphony of guns clicking resounded in the room. There was no other than thirteen pistols directed towards the intruders, spying eyes as an enemy found a place amongst them. There were a few cases, some closed, others open to reveal hardware that Jiho couldn’t define in any other adjective than majestic.

“Who the hell are you?” The voice came from a young man, black hair shaved on the sides and a displeased look on his face for being interrupted. This must be, Jiho suspected, iKON’s leader. And he was right, his instincts rarely failed him, after all.

“Don’t you know?” he said, still a smile on his face as his feet traveled further to them. Behind him, all six of s had their own guns directed towards the others, fingers ready on the triggers if anything was bound to happen. “I’m on the news though.” Jiho looked around, eyes travelling over the furniture as if he owned the place; until they set on another boy, probably a bit older than him. He was indeed taller than Jiho, thinner and more handsome than he was, for sure. 

Though, he was scared, clear fear written all over his features just as the mere thought of Jiho’s eyes boring into his own. He was named ParkSehyeok, but Jiho knew him better as P-Goon, and he was the leader of a gang that rose just a few years ago. But that isn’t important, so the blonde-haired man just stopped in front of him, his posture imposing and large in front of the other. The other just lowered his head, as if he was afraid to look at Jiho. “Get out.” he simply said, his voice dominant, just to get himself clear.

The other didn’t wait any longer, and dragged his own team members away and out of the subway station as quickly as possible. Jiho followed their figures as they climbed up the stairs and disappeared around a dark corner. When he turned around again, the young leader in front of him seemed to have lost just a little bit of his confidence. You cannot blame him; he wasn’t used to see gangs chased away just by the presence of a not-so-friendly man.

“B.I., isn’t it?” he asked politely, his hands finding their way in the front pockets of his jeans. The kid was lost, to say the least. He didn’t quite understand the situation he was in at the moment, and the confusion clear in his eyes made Jiho chuckle slightly. “My name’s Zico, it’s nice to meet you.” he added when he saw the other hadn’t move an inch. “It’s a pretty piece of handguns you got there, uh?” His head nodded towards the cases full of different kind of weapons, some bigger than others. “Where d’you get them?” He was being nice, that’s for sure, and the act would almost make Yukwon, right behind him, chuckle.

The young boy stayed silent, as if his words got caught in his throat. He was partly amazed by the other’s confidence, though he really did not want him to steal his merchandise. 

Jiho circled around a case, crouched in front of it and took out a good-looking sniper rifle. His lips whistled, han