𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

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"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞."

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April 5, 2044.

Democracy and division have long ceased to exist in the history of Korea.

For decades, elections have helped to give a democratic and legitimate disguise to an authoritarian regime, but like everything in politics, certain groups that tend to monitor the quality of a government unveil their missteps and incompetence to the public. 

As a result, the country now faced a disastrous civil war, splitting it into three classes; those who controlled, those who allowed themselves to be controlled, and those who refused to accept the new way of government.

The so-called rebels.

Interrogate, torture and kill were the three main activities of a dictator's follower. However, it was not for these exact reasons the twenty-six-year-old, Jeon Jungkook became one. Showing no mercy for the Korean insurgents never gave him real pleasure, but they were the major problem for the system and were fated to be stopped.

Like a loyal Army general and Uchi devotee that he was, Jungkook attended the torture sessions (or open interrogations to make it less explicit) to watch the suffering, screams, and blood that was held inside the big auditorium hall, established by its Supreme Leader, the one and only, Gi Jong.

He was a middle-aged man, always in expensive suits and popular cigarette brand in hand. After he founded the Uchi Party and won a place in the Parliament, his regime contributed to the country in both negative and positive ways within these eight years in power.

"... and that is why today has been a great day for me!" exclaimed the man everyone feared and admired. "Please, send her in!"

Soon as Gi Jong's command echoed throughout the whole salon, the heavy doors were pushed loudly. An officer came in dragging what appeared to be a lifeless petite woman's body, which made Jungkook lose his bored, untouchable expression by pulling the corner of his lips into a thin, discreet smile.

Once the woman was violently thrown against the floor, her shaking arms moved to push herself up just to get a glimpse of the place. Her eyes were in a reddish tone, rosy cheeks, swollen, dry, bloody lips, and disheveled hair. Yet, she wholly rejected the idea of displaying fear in her features.

Gi Jong's grin widened triumphantly at the sight.

"Ah! My lovely guest," he said satisfied, pausing only to get closer. "You were the missing piece of my chessboard for the checkmate," he paused again, chuckled, and inhaled deeply. "For four years, I waited for this moment, Lee Jieun... the sweet little head of Kawa."

Gi Jong stepped back, staring at her in silence as if admiring a very famous painting. Jieun coughed, her palms closing into fists on the floor as she tried not to vomit. Her stomach ached painfully.

"I shall end your suffering soon, dear," he crouched down, pushing her long damp locks away from her face. His voice lowered during his next sentence, "But I still have a favor to ask you."

Jieun looked up, glaring intensively at the man as her weak, hoarse voice came out, "Go..." she swallowed, having difficulty to continue. "To... hell."

Gi Jong gave a half-suppressed, scornful laugh.

"We are already in one, my dear."

Grinning, the leader straightened up, gesturing with his hand to bring out his next guest.

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