Three weeks went by.

As expected, the money I had gotten for the bracelet had lasted me just two weeks.  But as I lay under the bridge one night and and listened to the sound of cars roaring over it, I began to think about moving again.  I had stayed in this city for long enough.  I headed into an internet cafe when morning came and charged my phone while I looked up some information.

I didn’t know much about my childhood, but one of the few things I remembered was that I was from Mokpo.  As the years passed, I had left my hometown and wandered through pretty much all of South Korea.  However, I had never been to the capital, Seoul, because of the dangers I knew were lurking there.

But after clicking through link after link and doing some research, I convinced myself that Seoul wasn’t as bad of an option as I had thought.  True, the Snatchers were much more serious about their work and the rate of human trafficking was much higher than most cities, but the number of gangs was also much higher.  That probably meant that the Snatchers would be more focused on crime prevention than the slave trade, at least that's what I assumed.  Furthermore, over ten million people resided in Seoul.  I was one individual in over ten million.  The chances of being caught were relatively low.

There was also an abundance of wealthier people.  If I utilized my skills as a pickpocket carefully enough, maybe I could manage to get an apartment if I was lucky.  I had never stayed in an apartment, or even a hotel room.  But perhaps that would be possible this time.  Seoul was well-known for its wealth and modern ways of living.  Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I had once thought.

I decided to take the risk.  I logged out of the computer, gathered my belongings, and walked out of the cafe.  I hadn’t left anything behind at the bridge, so there was nothing stopping me from leaving now.  Before I said goodbye to the city of Bucheon for good, I decided to steal something else.  There was still enough money to get by, but just barely: I only had about a hundred dollars.

As I walked along the sidewalk, pondering how to get more, I reached a bus stop and noticed a black leather handbag on the bench.  The young woman sitting next to it was reaching down to lace up her black leather boots, looking intently at her phone screen at the same time.  As she was doing the last knot, I reached over slightly and grabbed the handbag, not breaking my stride.  I walked away from her at a normal pace,  merging with the crowd easily.  The handbag hung loosely at my side.  I avoided touching it directly: instead, I pulled the sleeve of my jacket lower so that it covered my fingers.  That way, I would avoid getting fingerprints on it.  The handbag had a nice weight to it.  Even if it turned out her wallet wasn’t in there, there had to be something of value in a bag that large.

Five minutes later, I walked into the subway station and stepped into the bathroom so I could see what I had obtained.  Slipping on my gloves, I carefully pulled out a bottle of hand sanitizer, a tampon, a pack of spearmint gum, rollerball perfume, a plastic container of fried rice, and finally, the thing I was looking for: a leather wallet that matched her handbag.  Inside was her ID, a few credit and debit cards, and a wad of cash.  I left the cards where they were --credit card fraud was too easy to track-- and took the cash, which totalled two hundred and twelve dollars.  I thought for a minute and took her fried rice as well, placing it into my own bag.  After all, it would spoil in a few days and it would all go to waste.  I put everything else back the way I found it and as soon as I left the bathroom, I went to the subway station’s lost and found desk and dropped off the handbag.  As I walked past a trash bin, I peeled off the gloves and threw them away.

After exchanging the money for some smaller bills, I bought a subway ticket and headed underground.  I wasn’t terribly hungry, but I bought a few red bean buns and put them in my backpack in case it turned out I would need them later.

Forty-five minutes later, I stepped outside again.

It was much larger than I had expected.  The biggest city I had been to so far was Busan, and Seoul was three times the size of that.  I swiveled my head around for a few moments, just taking in the sheer vastness of it all.  Then I recollected myself and began to walk.

I spent the rest of the day familiarizing myself with the city, noting which places I would probably spend the most time around.  I memorized which streets had Snatcher patrols and which didn’t.  I learned where the food stalls with the cheapest wares were located.  I committed the addresses of several pawn shops to memory.

I wrote everything down on a map of the city I had taken from the subway station, writing little reminders to myself in the margins.  Within just a few hours, the entire map was covered in the blue ink of my pen.  But I still hadn’t explored the other half half of Seoul, which was on the north side of the Han River.  I ate the fried rice and bean buns for dinner.  With my newly-acquired money, I bought several pieces of bread, a few energy bars, several bottles of water, some toiletries, and a few sets of clothes.  It cost more than I expected and by the end of my shopping trip, I was left with one hundred dollars.  It would not last.  One hundred dollars wasn’t much, and judging from the numerous price tags I had glimpsed throughout the day, it wasn’t going to get me very far.  Especially if I was going to find a place to stay.

The best option for me was to rent a closet.  Quite literally, a closet.  After hunting through the city, I found a building in Gangnam district that rented out small rooms that could fit a bed and a desk, and not much else.  It didn’t matter to me, since that was all I needed anyways.  Unfortunately, however, it cost a bit over two hundred dollars for a month.  It was considered cheap compared to how much it cost to live in other areas of Seoul, but it was still too much for me to afford at the moment.  I had told the landlord that I would come back at the end of the week to check it out again.

I planned to steal again, either the next day, or the day after that.  But it would be difficult.

Truth was, it varied from place to place.  Sometimes, huge crowds were a good thing: if someone accidentally brushed against me during rush hour, I would be able to discreetly sneak my hand into their pocket and come away with something: a few coins, or if I was lucky enough, a wallet.  But other times it meant that the throng of passerby could cut off my escape route, making it impossible to make a quick getaway.

Unlike Bucheon, the level of security in the shops of Seoul was tighter than I had ever seen before.  With all the high-tech cameras and sensors, it would be difficult to steal jewelry or anything else from a store.  Not to mention that in general, the people of Seoul seemed more mindful of their surroundings.  The majority of the thousands of people I had passed had been on their guard, obviously aware that the crime rate was high.  Getting money would be difficult.

It was getting dark, and little by little, the city around me lit up with multicolored lights, blocking out the stars in the sky with its glow.  I walked away from the skyscrapers and tall buildings, heading for the Han River.  The nearest bridge was too far away from where I was, but I spotted a few benches along the sidewalk.

I shrugged.  I didn’t especially like being out in the open, especially in a city this big.  But it would do for tonight, I supposed.

I sat on the wooden bench, not bothering to take out my blanket.  It would attract too much attention.  Not that there were many people around --only some elderly people and a few couples walking hand-in-hand along the shores of the river-- but I decided to play it safe.  It was mid-autumn, which meant that the weather was still warm enough for me to stay out in the open.  I ate a piece of plain toast and went over my nightly ritual.  Within a matter of minutes, I slipped into a light slumber.

When I woke up, I realized that sleeping on a bench had been a poor choice.  I had managed to fall asleep with my head at an odd angle, and my neck was sore.  Not to mention the sun looked like it had just risen moments before.  To my utter shock, there was someone standing over me, shouting something unintelligible.  I bolted upright, wincing as I did so, and strained to decipher his words.

“Hey, kid!  Do you need a ride?”  The man was short and stout.  He wore a light blue button-up shirt and dark slacks.  He looked about fifty or sixty years old, and his eyes were framed with thick spectacles.

I cleared my throat slightly.

“No, sir, that’s alright,” I said cautiously, my voice sounding rather croaky because I rarely talked to other people.

“You sure?  Have you been sleeping out here all night?”

I cleared my throat again so my voice would go back to normal.

“I was taking a late-night walk and I sat down for a little bit because my legs were sore.  Must have dozed off or something,”

The man shrugged.

“If you say so.  Anyways, you look pretty young.  Did you run away from home or something?”

“No.  Of course not."

“What’s in your pack, then?”

“Oh, I was visiting my aunt and uncle yesterday.  They’re the type of people to spoil the younger ones in the family and they forced me to take a bunch of food with me.”  I rolled my eyes and grinned.  “They kept me at their place until eleven last night and by that time, the buses weren’t running anymore so I had to walk back by myself.”

“I see,” he said.  “So do you need a ride back or anything?”

“No, it’s alright.”  My heart rate began to speed up a little, but I didn’t show it.  “I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Nonsense,” he chuckled.  “I won’t get any passengers for a little while since it’s pretty early in the morning.”  He gestured to the left and for the first time, I noticed the bus parked at the side of the road.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, smiling politely.  “I don’t live that far away.  I can walk the rest of the way back.”

“Where do you live?”

I searched my mind frantically and blurted out a random location.

“Jung District.”

The bus driver raised his eyebrows.

“Goodness gracious, we’re in Gangnam District right now.  It would take you quite a while to walk from here to Jung District, with all the transit stops and traffic and whatnot.  Well over two hours.  That’s pretty far away, I tell you.”

“Oh,” I said lamely, realizing my mistake too late.  Why hadn't I thought of a more believable location?

“So do you want a ride?  It doesn’t cost you much.  Just use your T-money card.”

My what?  I had no idea how buses worked because I had always bought subway tickets.

“Oh, I lost mine,” I said in a sheepish voice, scratching the back of my head and feigning embarrassment.  “Must have dropped it somewhere.”

“You’re a troublesome kid, aren’t you?”  The bus driver said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion for the first time.  “First, you fall asleep on a park bench in the middle of Gangnam District, apparently unaware that you’re a sitting duck for muggers and Snatchers and God knows what else.  Second, you lose your T-money card.  Please don’t tell me that--”

“Sorry, sir.”  I ducked my head.  "I can still pay with cash, right?"

He nodded, but gave me a look.

"Boys will be boys," he tsk-tsked, walking away from me.  I sat there on the bench, trying to recover from my mistake.  My eyes darted around, looking for an escape route.  The last thing I needed was that driver asking me more questions about my personal life.  I couldn’t lie my way through all of them.

There was nowhere to run.  I was in a park, with very limited places to hide.  If I ran from him, he would know immediately that I wasn’t who I pretended to be.  But on the other hand, if I stayed with him, there was also a chance he could figure it out.  But I didn’t have a choice.  I reluctantly boarded the bus and sat a few rows behind the driver’s seat.

The bus ride wasn’t very eventful.  I answered his questions in the most straightfoward manner possible, turning down his repeated attempts at making conversation with me.  I kept my eyes on my phone, pretending to text someone, but I could tell that he was staring at me in his rearview mirror when he had the chance.  He was obviously trying to make eye contact.

It was making me very uncomfortable.

After twenty or thirty minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore and told him to drop me off.  I nearly ran off the bus, but forced myself to walk as if there was nothing wrong.  I could feel the driver’s eyes on my back as I merged with the crowd and disappeared into a nearby clothing store.

That was too close.  My heart rate was off the roof.  My legs felt like jelly and I could barely walk properly.  And although I didn’t stand out in any way and I wasn’t doing anything suspicious, I had the impression that I was being watched.  I didn’t look up.  Instead, I walked around the store a few times and left.

The feeling hadn’t passed.  It was strange and terrifying to me.  People never noticed me: to the crowd, I was just another face.  Then why was it that it felt like someone was watching me, even though I was sure no one was?  I had never been this nervous before.

I stole a glance around me.  The people around me pushed past without noticing that I had stopped in the middle of the streets.  Their eyes were directed straight ahead, towards the street, and towards their phones.  The bus driver was nowhere to be seen.

I shook off the feeling and tried to ignore it.  After walking for a few blocks, I found a map plastered on the back off a bus stop.  I was in the nicer part of Myeongdong, which, if I remembered correctly, was well-known for its expensive shops.

Maybe stealing something would get me back into the gist of things.  I needed money anyways, and it would give me reassurance that I knew I was doing.  That I was the one in control and I wouldn’t let my silly, irrational fears get the best of me just because I had to talk to a bus driver for a little while.

Although it was only seven in the morning, there were hundreds of people on the streets at the moment, their pockets probably bursting with money.  Only the rich could afford to shop in places like this.  All I had to do was find someone to follow.  I took a deep breath to gather my wits and to check my surroundings.  I wandered to a newsstand and picked out a sports magazine.  I shifted my weight to my left foot and brushed back my hair.  Occasionally, I pulled out my phone to pretend to check the time, just to appear casual.

But I was actually watching the people who passed me by without a second glance.  I took in all the details: whether or not their clothes had pockets, whether or not they had shopping bags or handbags, whether or not they looked like they were paying attention to their surroundings.

A few minutes later, I found what appeared to be a suitable target.  He was about my height, clad in a hand-tailored black blazer, a white and black striped shirt, and pressed black designer jeans.  He wore Blanc and Eclare aviator sunglasses, and there were expensive-looking diamond studs in his ears.  He was carrying his large wallet out in the open, but he was on his phone at the same time, never looking up from the screen.

He looked both wealthy and distracted, and that was what mattered to me.

I closed the magazine and left the newsstand, keeping a distance from him, but watching his every move.  He headed down the sidewalk and sat down at a bench in front of a fancy bakery, his fingers moving rapidly over his phone.  He set his wallet next to him on the bench without even looking up.

I took another breath and prepared myself.  I took off my backpack and put my phone back inside it, and at the same time, I took out a pair of skin-colored latex gloves that I had purchased a while back.  I slipped it on as discreetly as I could, and at the same time, I planned out where I would go afterwards.  If he didn’t notice me, I would walk off towards the Japanese noodle house at the end of the block.  If he noticed, I would break into a run and duck into the alley directly to my left.  It was still early morning, so the alleys wouldn’t be closed off yet.

I headed towards the man, who was sitting with back to me, head down.  He was still on his phone.  I approached him from behind.  His wallet was still next to him.  I s out my hand to grab it from the bench, but before my fingers made contact with the silver-colored wallet, a large hand wrapped around my wrist.

The hand didn’t belong to the man I was trying to steal from, who looked up from his phone at last, alarmed.  The hand belonged to a burly, well-muscled man with a strong jaw and thick eyebrows.  He pulled me up so that I was facing him, and he glared at me, his hand still wrapped tightly around my gloved wrist.

I had never been in this type of situation before.

Never had I been caught stealing.

And yet here I was, face-to-face with a man who, by the looks of him, could potentially be a Snatcher.

I began to panic.

I ducked my face down and tried to tear myself away from the burly man, but he was too strong for me.  He grabbed my other wrist so tightly that he was cutting off my blood circulation.

“Kangin, what happened?”  I heard next to me.  The burly man turned to the man on the bench and scowled.

“Heechul, are you aware that this little thief nearly took your wallet?  How many times do I have to tell you that you shouldn’t leave your valuables lying out in the open like that!”

The man called Heechul seemed to suddenly realize that he had very nearly gotten robbed.  whipped off his sunglasses and got right in front of my face.  He grabbed onto the front of my shirt and shook me.

“You little--, I-- do you know how much this wallet cost?!  Do you know how hard it was to get this?!  This is real crocodile skin, covered in real molten silver!  This is a limited edition!  Designed and made by Guccio Gucci himself!  You’ve got nerve, huh?  Trying to steal from me!  Me!  You little thief!  You son of a !”  He screamed, attracting many stares from the crowd that had begun to gather around the three of us.  “I swear on my customized Lamborghini Veneno Roadster that I’ll report you for this!  The Snatchers are--”

I completely lost my mind at the mere mention of that word.  Kangin held my wrists and Heechul had latched onto my shirt, but my legs were free.  I brought my right knee up into Heechul’s crotch, then Kangin’s.  They both groaned in pain and Heechul cried out as he fell on the ground, screeching something about his dirtied Ralph Lauren blazer.

“Chullie!”  Kangin hurried to his side, and while they were both distracted, I ran for my life, scared senseless.

Shocked that I had been caught and that there had been dozens of witnesses, I forgot all about the escape route I had planned.  The only thing in my mind was how someone was sure to report me to the Snatchers.  They would be searching for me.  They would take me away and I would become a slave.  

That could not happen to me.  I would not let them catch me so they could break me and use me to their preferences.

I ran faster and faster, pushing and shoving past the crowd without a second thought.  I sprinted faster, faster than I had ever ran before.  I dashed behind a row of street stalls, intending to hide.

I felt the punch before I saw it.

             The last thing I saw was the face of the bus driver, glaring down at me as I crumpled to the concrete, unconscious before my head thudded against the hard ground.

Author's Note: Hi my readers/subscribers ^^

I know it's been over a month since I updated O.o sorry D;

But out of the other fics I'm working on, this one is now my top priority, so even though I'm really busy with school and hw and SATs and other stuff, I'm gonna try to update more often.

Thank you for reading, comment, subscribe, and upvote if you haven't already, and have a lovely day everyone ^^

Updated 3/28/15