Hostage {ℍ𝕐𝕌ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾} -- DISCONTINUED

Chapter Six

Hyunjin stared at the man from where he stood across the room, arms crossed over his chest, nostrils flaring in his anger. The better part of his face was aching from the hits he'd received, but the man didn't seem to have the guts to do anything worse than that.

That was the first thing Hyunjin found strange about this entire situation.

The second was that the questions were so general, constantly referring to some type of "information", though never quite specifying what it was; it could've been nearly anything, from what he'd eaten that morning all the way down to where his family's armoury was.

The silence was uncomfortable, to say the least, but he would not have been the head of his gang if a little discomfort was enough to deter him. Before he did anything else, he'd have to figure out how to get out of this duct tape; his arms were both heavily bound to the chair's arms.

It complicated his escape greatly – he was sure they'd removed all the knives and other weapons from his person whilst he'd been unconscious – the slimy assholes –, though it certainly would've been hard to maneuver them anyway, with his hands tied down as they were.

A muffled commotion from just outside his door pulled his attention away from the man standing guard in front of him. The door swung open and in walked Jisung, lips parted in that idiotic shit-eating grin of his, a gun propped over his shoulder nonchalantly.

"Did ya miss me?" he sang, shooting the guy in the leg without even looking, forcing him to crumple down to the ground. He kicked the man's gun away, slinging the long gun – where had he even gotten that from? – over his shoulder again, walking towards him.

He tilted his head as he came to a stop right in front of him. "Well?" His grin widened and Hyunjin could only glare at him, completely powerless to do anything with his hands tied down.

"Just cut me free," he hissed.

Jisung pouted, crouching down in front of him. "We haven't seen each other in so long, and this is how you greet me?" He placed a hand on his melodramatic heart and Hyunjin could feel his eye begin to twitch. His glower intensified and Jisung sighed, shrugging. "Fine, fine." He reached into his jacket – he hadn't been wearing it earlier.

Seriously, where did this guy get all this stuff?

Out came a small switchblade, which he used to start sawing away at the layers upon layers of silvery tape. There was a strange weight in his eyes as he continued to cut him free – albeit slowly – that Hyunjin couldn't figure out.

"How did you even get out?" he asked, unable to suppress the suspicion that had been blossoming in his heart since this entire ordeal had started.

Jisung smirked. "I got the dumb one," he snorted, shaking his head. "The guy bound my hands together behind the chair." Still – it was difficult to get enough tension in the tape at that angle to break it; his eyes narrowed.

He looked up and met Hyunjin's gaze, knife momentarily pausing. His face was serious as he spoke. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not lying. Practice makes perfect." He winked as though it was all some sort of joke, but there was tension in his shoulders, now.

Soon enough the duct tape on both of his arms – and legs – was cut through and he was finally able to stand up after peeling the tape away with a grimace. Jisung had already walked over towards the guard who was still on the ground, attempting to crawl for his gun.

Jisung clicked his tongue, crouching in front of him. "Where do you think you're going? I got some questions for you." Hyunjin studied his face; it was more serious than he'd ever seen it, his eyes flashing, and although he was smiling, it was dangerous, daunting.