Diablerie

Veil of Midnight Shadows

Under the cloak of a moonless midnight, two figures stood in the shadows of a narrow alley, their lithe bodies draped in pitch-black suits that seemed to merge seamlessly with the darkness. For the past two hours, they had kept a vigil on the small, weather-worn rice shop across the street, meticulously scrutinizing every face that entered and departed its humble abode.

Yet, as they stood in the suffocating silence, they remained unsure of the purpose behind their clandestine mission. Why were they instructed to abduct the owner of this unassuming shop? The enigmatic boss's motives were shrouded in secrecy, leaving them with an unsettling sense of unease. But fear outweighed curiosity, and they found themselves bound to obey, knowing the consequence of defiance under the ironclad rule of their employer.

Beomseok, the taller of the two, removed his face mask with a fluid motion, stashing it away in his pocket. From the same pocket, he extracted a pack of cigarettes, seeking solace in the familiar ritual. His eyes never wavered from the small shop, still bathed in a flickering glow, despite the late hour. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he nudged his partner Jungwon with a subtle elbow.

Recognizing the unspoken request, Jungwon delved into his black Armani suit and produced a lighter with practiced ease, igniting the end of Beomseok's cigarette. The two men shared a moment, a fleeting connection in the inky obscurity, their camaraderie forged through shared experiences and a shared burden.

As Beomseok inhaled the ashen smoke, it clawed at his throat and stung his lungs. It was a vice he had adopted long ago, back in his reckless youth, now an inexplicable comfort in the face of danger. Jungwon, ever the concerned brother, couldn't help but express his disapproval, his voice a mix of regret and apprehension.

"Consider quitting, Hyung. It's bad for you," Jungwon implored, but the plea seemed to dissipate into the night, unheard or unheeded.

Despite the younger man's apprehension, Beomseok remained resolute, a guardian to a life neither of them desired, yet both were bound to fulfill. His attention refocused on the shop as the lights dimmed, revealing the silhouette of their unsuspecting target, an older, slightly portly man.

With unwavering determination, Jungwon straightened from his casual lean against the alley wall and crossed the street. Beomseok discarded his cigarette, snuffing it out under the weight of his shoe, and followed his younger brother in calculated silence.

The night favored their covert mission, its starless canvas veiled by thick, foreboding clouds. The autumn breeze danced among the fallen leaves, and the bitter chill lent an eerie air to the night. In this desolate atmosphere, Beomseok approached the old man from behind, his hand concealing a handkerchief saturated with chloroform. In one swift, merciful movement, he pressed it against the man's unsuspecting face, guiding him into a tranquil slumber.

With Jungwon's assistance, they carried the unconscious figure to the other side of the street, traversing the darkened alley with agile ease. Jungwon suggested binding the man's hands and legs, a precaution against a potential escape. But Beomseok, confident in the potency of the chloroform, dismissed the idea.

"He won't be a problem. Especially with his age," Beomseok assured, his voice a blend of certainty and pragmatism. With the abducted man secure in their car, they left behind a bag of sweets and a pair of keys on the sidewalk, a cryptic calling card of their covert presence. Their mission was far from over, and the shadowy machinations of their enigmatic boss awaited them in the distance.

The room was shrouded in an eerie silence, punctuated only by the haunting sound of a clicking clock. The old man stirred, groggy and disoriented, as his consciousness struggled to break free from the clutches of darkness. His hands were bound behind his back, rendering him defenseless and trapped in a wooden chair that creaked ominously beneath him.