❝ YOU CAN'T OUTPLAY
THE PLAYER ❞
You could probably not find another person in the story with more issues than Choi San.
He had it all like your local emporiums when it came to being problematic, you name it and he probably has it. Mommy issues, daddy issues, abandonment issues, attitude issues, almost everything under the sun, at this point.
His biggest issue however laid with communication. He didn't exactly know how to talk to people nicely, or well, basically check up on them. He didn't really have any role models to follow and he had never really needed to verbally express his concerns since the only people he cares about knew him better than he knew himself, and could read him like a book. He didn't need to verbally assure them they were here for them or he'd always be around to talk to. They knew it.
So now, he faced this issue. This dumb ass bitch couldn't read any to save her life, so he had to somehow express himself. And he didn't know if going with the classic 'are you okay?' was a good idea, because it was quite apparent the girl beside him was far from okay. The tire usually carefully hidden under her facades had begun showing and her eyes held a sort of empty that gave San goosebumps.
"Are you that surprised to see me alive?" she snarked, turning to meet his hesitant gaze levelly. Her usual irritating grin suddenly didn't seem so irritating anymore. "Surprise, surprise, bitch!"
He rolled his eyes half-heartedly. "You're insufferable."
Her eyes glittered with mild amusement, "Tell me something I don't already know."
San paused. Was this his cue? Was this God's sign? Whatever it is, he's taking it. "I'll be here, if you want to talk," the words spilled from his lips quietly. So quietly he wondered if the deaf bitch heard. "About anything. It really doesn't matter. Trauma dump on me, I don't mind."
She stared at him, long and hard, eyes still as blank as fresh canvases. "Who are you and what the fuck have you done with Choi San?"
His hand shot out to whack her but she dodged that quickly. A genuine smile cracking her passive facade as she patted his outstretched hand.
"Losing your touch, bad boy?" she taunted smugly. "Careful there."
"Fuck you, Wang," he grumbled, slapping her hands away. "Seriously, you're a prick."
The smile lingered on her lips. "So who told you what about me again?" she inclined her head. "Why the sudden concern?"
"I was in the ward beside last night," he said quietly. "Your dad was yelling pretty loudly too."
All glee evaporated from her face, replaced with a sort of devastation he never thought she would be capable of feeling. "Oh well, oops. Sorry for disturbing your rest?"
He stared at her pointedly and her brows furrowed.
"What?" she groaned out. "What do you want me to say?"
To talk to me. Because I have so much to tell you about that, he wanted so badly to say, but he didn't.
"I want you to promise me you'll talk to someone when you're upset. Don't keep it bottled. It's not good for you," he licked his lips. "Even if it's not me, promise me you'll talk to someone."
Her eyes had turned glassy, as if remembering something someone else had said, or just someone generally. "That's a lot you ask for, Choi."
"But it's not impossible," he retaliated. "I've been there and done it. Whatever you're going through now, I had already too."
Her expression morphed into one of silent inquisition and a corner of San's lips quirked.
"What? Where do you think the Choi of my name came from? My personal creativity?"
..
Hansol's fingers fumbled as the man drew near. His fingers felt like they were smeared with butter and his throat went dry.
One of his fingers jabbed something on the remote and-
Beep...
Both parties froze in step.
Beep...
Beep...
He heard his Uncle take in a sharp breath, clearly recognizing the familiar sound, and that seemed to pull him out of any sort of shell-shock trance he fell into.
"Another step," he tried to bring up his inner Dong Sicheng, surprising himself by how steady and legitimate he sounded. "And you go right down with me, Uncle dearest."
Faint amusement danced in the other man's eyes, clearly not buying his words, so Hansol jammed his finger into another random button, hoping it didn't blow him up.
Well, luckily for him, God was on his side this time. The left of the building went up in fucking flames. Real blue fire flames he never thought he'd see anywhere outside the laboratory. How the fuck Liu Yangyang managed to do this he had no idea and he was not about to find out. Taking this pristine chance his Uncle was distracted, everyone was screaming and there was chaos everywhere, he ran.
He ran as quickly as his legs could carry him, as far as he could go. He didn't even know where he was running to but he knew he had to fucking run.
So adrenaline pumping through his veins, breath like glass shards poking through his lungs, he ran.
..
"What are you doing?"
Alarmed and clearly uninformed, Guanlin held out a hand, confused. "Where are you going?" he rephrased his question when he saw the large leather bag on the table top.
The masked man shoved him and Guanlin stumbled back, nearly losing his footing. "You didn't see it on the way in?" the older man jabbed a finger in the window's direction.
The Chinese boy followed his finger, biting down on his lower lip. The blotchy single word on the clear window was crusted and a little brownish, seemingly written in blood. Blood that dried over time, likely. The edges of every letter were drippy and some overlapped each other, but the word itself still seemed relatively clear.
"Tekel," his brows knitted together in confusion. "What-" He turned to the older man in complete bewilderment. "What does it mean? I've never heard this before. Is this a threat? A warning?"
"The Handwriting on the Wall from the Book of Daniel, a warning of inevitable misfortune," the masked man continued his packing. "Mene mene tekel upharsin," his lips curved into a slight sneer. "Numbered, numbered, weighed, divided. My baby brother's favourite line."
"It couldn't have been Taeyong," Guanlin's response came almost desperately. "His sister is still in Sicheng's hands, his priority would be getting her back, he wouldn't-"
Lee Hoetaek turned to face the younger boy slowly. "This same boy personally gunned his closest blood brother down, Lai," he said quietly. "There is no loyalty or love in this man's veins, just red hot greed."
..
If I got a dollar everytime someone stared at me for existing today, I'd have been richer than Dong Sicheng.
"That one..."
"...Xiao Zhan's friend..."
"...someone in her class said some bullet came for her and San too..."
Turns out ignoring everyone was way harder than I had expected. How did I use to do it again? Exhaling a dragged sigh, I grabbed my lunch tray and moved all the way to the corner of the cafeteria, as far away I could from everyone else.
The seat across me was drawn the moment I settled and I looked up.
"Are you hiding?" he looked even bigger an asshole now with that bigass shit-eating grin on his face. "Is the great and mighty Yilin hiding?"
I scowled. "Don't you have classes to attend, bitch?"
His expression was something of flat exasperation, "It's lunch hour. No one has class now, dumbass." He gave the place a good once-over, "Looks better than Gangwon to say the very least."
"Is it really?" I muttered. "I kinda miss the gargoyles in Gangwon's caf, there's none here."
"You miss the gargoyles or you miss the sticks they held?" Sicheng cocked his head, tapping his chin. "Not that it's anything to be missed really. Speaking of which, did they put another stick back or is the poor gargoyle clutching air?"
Good question, I never checked.
"Does it look like I look at that particular gargoyle every day, Dong?" I bit into a quarter of my sandwich dismissively, offering him an untouched half.
He looked extremely out of place here with his Timberland boots and the Seoul Royale jersey peeking from the V of his cream hoodie. If his visuals itself weren't striking enough to draw the room's attention, his attire definitely did. He was a single stroke of colour in the black and white masses and that fact itself spoke volumes.
He let out a peal of laughter, helping himself to my juice box instead, much to my despair.
"Did I offer that, asshole?" I whisper-screeched, making a swipe- which he had unfortunately dodged- for it.
"Oh come on," he smiled a billion-dollar winning grin that never made me want to beat him up even more. "We're a family now. What's yours is mine."
"We'll see if you say the same when I have problems."
The shrug that came in reply was ridiculously nonchalant. "You always have problems, Yi. It's just when that you have more problems."
Irritating, he was right.
"On the way here I heard something interesting," he leaned back, pleased he managed to secure the juice box. "Something about your old team mate Xiao Zhan dying. Lee Taeyong's work?"
The look in his eyes told me he knew, he was just probbing an answer so he could say something else in response to that.
"No shit. And?" I said suspiciously.
"How angry are you?" the smile playing on his lips looked dangerous now. Maybe it had always been dangerous and I just never noticed the edges until now.
"On a scale of 10?" I cocked my head. "We're hitting a solid 20."
His grin widened. Just that barely notable bit. "Good, keep your heart cold." Tonight's plan must not fail. He left the unsaid words hanging in the air, eyes saying all that he needed to tell me.
We've came so far. We cannot afford to fail at the finale. It was more than just a matter of pride. It was a matter of life and death.
I waved dismissively at him, the race of my heart a complete contrary to the lack of care on my face, "放心，我不会在关键时刻掉链子的 (Don't worry, I wouldn't be the weak link)。"
..
"The final decision lies with Ms Wang, San," Mr Jang said tiredly, rubbing his temples. "And she has agreed to return to Gangwon herself."
Choi San couldn't believe his ears. There had to be some sort of error here. She had fought tooth and nail to stay just days ago! What changed her mind?
Well, her friend dying here in the school, for one, a nasal voice reasoned. And the fact she has about no other friends in the school, maybe?
He wanted to scream, he wanted to vent the discomfort and anger clawing at his chest right now. Sinking back into his seat, he exhaled out shakily, wordless. She needed all the support she could get right now and San knew exactly how to give just that to her, but how was he supposed to do that with her leaving? He closed his eyes. Jesus. Was God himself testing him right now? Because Hell, he was a renowned failure. This was going to be yet another fail to add to his list of other failures.
"When does she leave?" San breathed after a very long pause, eyes still shut.
"Tomorrow."
He lowered his head in acceptance.
..
While his siblings were learning how to wield every weapon known to mankind, young Lee Hoetaek had holed himself up in the family's library, trying to read every book the big dusty place offered. Prone to illness and being physically weaker than all his siblings, he was left out of the strenuous trainings the rest of them went through. He just needed to know how to wield a blade and wield it well. That was all that was expected from him. He didn't need to know all the fancy tricks, just how to protect himself. That left him with more time than he had expected and he spent that reading.
It started off as just something he wanted to be better than his siblings at, then it turned into something more. He genuinely started liking it. He liked being immersed in the fictional worlds of fiction books. He liked learning more, knowing more. Knowledge was power, after all, and he was a very power-greedy person.
No, not power as in Head of Clan type of power. He couldn't give a fuck who was in power. That was too small a position in his eyes and why his siblings would go all out just for that stupid role was always stupid in his eyes. He was just a bystander at first. Just watching as everyone tore each other out with amusement. He never really cared for his older brothers, anyway. Never once did any of them stop to show him any sort of concern. There was no sort of emotional connection between him and them. They were living in two completely different worlds.
But Taemin...
Taemin was different. He cared. He'd always check up on him, no matter how tired he was after trainings, no matter rain, shine, good day or bad day. He came in to check on Hoetaek and he'd actually stay to chat with the left out boy. He'd talk about things that made Hoetaek feel great about life, and he'd never fail to leave the older boy grinning after every conversation. Taemin was the light of Hoetaek's very dim and unsteady life, the only pillar of fire keeping him through the dark uncertainty of his childhood.
Even after they grew up, they remained close. Though everyone knew that Taemin was closer to their baby brother Taeyong, it never mattered to Hoetaek. As long as Taemin was happy, he didn't mind who he was closer to. It didn't matter as long as he still trusted Hoetaek, still liked Hoetaek. That was how much Taemin matter to him. He was more than just a brother. He was Hoetaek's best friend and confidant. He was the only thing he would unheedingly fight for, even with his weak body and his very slim chance of winning. He would charge head on screaming if it was for Taemin.
Anything. He would do anything for his late little brother.
He lit the thick roll between his fingers and inhaled, smoke entering his lungs, doing funky things to his head. It had been awhile since he had been anywhere not the Underground Market, his apartment or the supermarket just a block across his apartment. There was no reason for him to be around, anyway. He had no where to go. Daegu was an unfamiliar city and as someone who was supposed to be long dead, it wouldn't do him any good being spotted out in the open. Though he trusts his makeup and masking skills, he couldn't say for sure that no one might be able to figure his identity out. If that street rat Guanlin could, who's to say no one else would?
But for a street rat, that boy was a fool. He'd forgotten that Hoetaek was a Lee and the Lees had no regard for anyone not their own. He was just another chess piece in Hoetaek's board. A knight, or maybe a bishop, but still a dispensable piece. Someone he didn't mind sacrificing to save himself if things boiled down to that.
He exhaled, watching the smoke rings float into air and dissipate. As foolish as Guanlin might be, however, Hoetaek must admit that he was efficient. He was useful, ambitious and efficient, which might have worked out great for him given that he had not trusted Hoetaek. That Chinese boy should have carried on minding his own business selling information. Meddling with politics was no game. One wrong step and you're out. You're dead.
Yes, it was great. He was so clever for planning out the murder of Dong Sicheng's parents along with Yilin and yes, he got lucky making it out unscathed, but he was so stupid for taking the gamble again. Didn't he know? Lady Luck only favours everyone once. He used up that chance card when Yilin took the fall for the crash alone.
Hoetaek internally scoffed, lifting the thick cigar up to his lips again. It's none of his business. Guanlin will have what he has coming for him in no time. He had more important things to do now.
..
"I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."
Amused, Kim Soyeon arched a brow at the dramatic boy in front of her. "Hello to you too, Vernon."
The Chwe boy had surprisingly reached class on time. Albeit later than he usually would, but still on time. His first session was History class which he shared with the rest of the Seoul Royales, but Mark was currently standing outside class for laughing till he fell off the chair again. What's new. Lee Taeyong had taken a toilet break, Min Yoongi- the team's shooting guard- had moved to sit with his friend Jung Hoseok, and Dong Sicheng was unsurprisingly no where to be found. So it was just Soyeon and Vernon at the back right now and Vernon was still mentally freaking out over what had happened before class.
"I'm going to die, Kim," he wailed as quietly as he could. "I pissed my Uncle off. Although it was done purposefully, I'm still freaking out. What should I do? What can I do? This is not it, dude. I don't wanna die!"
The girl blinked at him in apparent confusion. "Context, mate. I'm gonna need more than 'I pissed him off purposefully' to solve your problem."
So Vernon spent a good three minutes explaining everything from the start to the end, trying his best to stay as quiet as he could even when he felt like screaming to emphasise some points.
Soyeon laughed at the end of it all, looking extremely entertained, as if this was some adventure story she was listening to.
"Don't laugh," he sulked. "I'm in crisis. A deep one. Help."
She tapped her fingers on the rough of her table. "What do you want me to do? Kill him?"
He stared at her like she grew a third head right there and then. Did- Did she just suggest murder? So casually too? What the Hell, is she crazy?
"Sorry what?" he bellowed.
And the teacher turned about from the board, fixing him a glare almost as bone-chilling as his Uncle's look earlier.
"What is it now, the two of you?" the teacher snapped.
Vernon shrank back with an anxious laughter, "Nothing. Go on, ma'am."
..
"You're leaving tomorrow."
I would never expect to see this type of expression on San's face, but lately life has been giving me many many surprises. Unwanted ones, mostly.
"Hello to you too, Choi," I waved, inclining my head at the statement I already know. "Wonderful weather, don't you agree?"
Class was halved today for no apparent reason so here we were, dismissed one lesson after Lunch. We were currently walking out of the gate, moving along with the rest of the celebrating student masses.
"Yilin," he said seriously. "Is this really what you want?"
Of course. I never belonged here. I was an outsider who kept clashing with the insiders.
"There's no reason for me to stay anymore, San," I said, glee flying from my face too. "What that was supposed to be a dream break has became a living nightmare. My friend died right in the quadrangle of this very school. A friend who did nothing to deserve death." His only crime was being friends with me. The words lodged in my throat. And how could he have known it was a crime? How could he have known it was wrong? No one could have had expected this turn of events.
The crumbling in his eyes was frightening. It was as if someone had tugged the wrong jenga block and the whole structure came falling in the ugliest, messiest way possible.
For almost a whole minute, he was silent. "Okay," his response was barely louder than a whisper but I heard it just fine.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, San," I stuck a hand out. "You are a huge asshole, a semi-nice one but very irritating, like a fly. Stay in contact?"
He slapped my hand away, "What a backhanded compliment."
"Take it, you hoe."
"Ugh, stay in contact or whatever," he rolled his eyes at me. "See you around, Wang."
I paused for a second, contemplating whether I should tell him about-
"Yi," I chose to say instead. "We fought back to back. We've definitely grown out of that the surname calling stage."
A smile tugged at the corners his lips.
..
"Another project?" Lin Yanjun cried out in exasperation. "Why do we even have Math projects? What's the workload split? You write the numbers and I write the operation in between? Dude, that's stupid."
"Try English essay projects," Tzuyu muttered. "It's literally you write one word and I write the next. It's dumb as Hell. Fuck this school."
Yangyang was perhaps the only one who hasn't breathed a single word of complain since the news had been broken. Which was worrying, because when he was quiet, he was scary.
"I'm sure you'll have fun doing this project," Ms Park, their AP Math teacher for the second year in the row, tried to hype them up, only to be met with stony faces. "You'll get to know more of your classmates better!"
Yanjun took a double-take, "Sorry, what did you say?"
Tzuyu re-scanned the instructions on the board with great horror. "Guys guys guys, this is a four to five people project. Dude, oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God, end me now." Her face showed an internal screaming Yangyang personally related to on a spiritual level.
"Yes, that means even if the three of you were to group together, you'd have to pick another classmate to form a team," Ms Park confirmed, looking almost terrified at this point. "Is there anyone y'all have already chosen to work with?"
"Injun that prick really had to pick this shitty time to get robbed and stabbed, huh," Yanjun grumbled and Yangyang almost winced at the mention of the shitty excuse he had fed the two of his friends. "And that Yilin! Stupid hoe really couldn't have picked a better year to go on that school exchange, huh."
Tzuyu looked deflated at this point. "Forget it," she said mournfully, "It doesn't matter who we work with. It's gonna be us hardcarrying them anyway. You pick, Ms Park."
"Anyone but that scum with the fat black ring sitting right next to the window," Yanjun added. "That guy does as much useful work as Reactive Power in an RC Circuit, which is none, by the way."
The guy being referred to looked confused to be spoken about so negatively. "Why are you coming at me, mate? What have I ever done to you, dude? I literally did none!"
"Exactly, you literally did none," Yanjun sassed.
Yangyang almost let out the ugliest cackle at the idiocy happening in front of his very eyes. "It's not him, you dumbass," the tennis prodigy whacked his friend. "It's some other who looked like him and had the same ring. Just not him."
"Damn why does everyone look alike nowadays," Yanjun threw his hands up. "Forget it. Do whatever, Ms Park. If you must insist on that four people at minimum grouping." His tone grew mocking towards the end as he folded his arms grumpily. "Anyone will do, at this point."
The rest of the class turned to the teacher pleadingly, the most adorable puppy-eyed expression displayed on their faces.
"Anyone?" came an almost insulted familiar voice. "You're picking just anyone to be my replacement, Lin? Disappointing. Here I was thinking we were best buds, bitch."
In sauntered a very offended-looking Yilin, now dressed in Gangwon's white, beige and green uniform. Gone was the chain, black blazer and skirt, back was her usual uniform. She carried herself with that familiar air of cockiness Yangyang hadn't seen on her in a long time, but was so, so glad to see return.
Tzuyu and Yanjun practically screamed on sight of the pretty girl, launching themselves at her. She opened her arms to accept their embraces.
"Missed me?" Yilin grinned.
"You've got no idea," Yanjun wailed theatrically. "I suffered so fucking much without you."
"I suffered more," Tzuyu cried out, not willing to lose to this doofus.
Yilin merely patted them back, "Great to hear I'm well-loved. Get me a seat now, you two."
They hurried off instantly and Yangyang rose a brow.
"I can't believe they let you boss them around," Yangyang mused and the girl grinned.
"Jealousy looks ugly on you, Liu," she said smugly, before turning to look at the board. "Four to five people a group?" she glanced at Ms Park. "Ours is settled. Anything else?"
Ms Park had many concerns. "Ms Wang, you've not been here for lessons for-"
"I assure you I know what's going on, bestie," the girl waved at the teacher. "I studied the whole syllabus at the start of the year. All thanks to my Seoul High friend who's a competitive piece of shit when it comes to Math, of course, wouldn't have done it without him."
"Never in a million years would've thought Hansol was that type of person," Yangyang chuckled as the other two fussed over Yilin.
The girl in the centre of everyone's attention opened her arms, "Nothing's ever as it seems, Liu."
The tennis prodigy never heard anything more true.
..
On his way back from his walk around the school, Lee Taeyong ran into Dong Sicheng.
Things had been tense between the two from the very start. The Chinese boy was Soyeon's new love interest and he was her ex. Someone who ruined his chance and never understood until it was too late. He had always been dead envious of Dong Sicheng, not just because the other boy was capable and powerful, but because he had a sort of irresistible charm that made him impossible to hate. He was just everyone's cup of tea somehow.
The more likeable Sicheng was, the more irked and inferior Taeyong felt. And that, that, was why when that Underground street rat claiming to know the Dong-Huang Clan claimed that Sicheng was preparing to open war against the Lees, Taeyong had believed him instantly. That was exactly what he wanted to hear, that Sicheng wasn't as great and lovely as he appeared. That the Chinese boy was a disloyal bastard with no care for friendship. All he wanted was power, power and more power. That's what Taeyong wanted to hear. He'd buy anything anyone said as long as it was negative towards Sicheng. He wouldn't even fact check it and that is why he's facing his current demise.
The Dong boy was in his usual carefree attire: light blue jeans and cream hoodie. His Gucci sneakers were swapped out for pretty Timberland boots instead and he sure looked like he belonged better on a model runway than in the corridor of this ragged school.
Their school had no strict attire code, so no Hall Monitor screamed at Sicheng for his dressing, just screamed about him being late, which he got off by giving them pointed looks.
As the distance between the both of them got shorter and shorter, Taeyong wondered what he should say to the boy.
"Haven't seen you in a long time," the Lee boy decided eventually.
Sicheng shrugged carelessly, "Yes, I didn't want to see you."
Now what was Taeyong supposed to say to that? He had it coming, he supposed.
"I was told you were preparing to start a war against me," the Lee boy confessed. "That's why it all started. The rumour. The Clan turning."
To Taeyong's suprise, the other boy didn't seem too fazed. "I know."
"You know?" Taeyong echoed, disbelieving.
Sicheng's face was the same artful blank it had always been. "Don't sound so surprised, Lee. It's offending."
Taeyong was more preoccupied with what the Chinese boy had said earlier. "If you knew then-"
Winwin stopped in his step. "What could I have done? Speak to you? Would you have believed me? No, Taeyong. You never once trusted me. You never once thought to stop and hear me out. This discord," he indicated between them. "It wasn't sowed. This type of distrust isn't built in days. It's bred for months. There has been nothing but wariness and suspicion between the both of us, Lee. It didn't matter whether I knew or didn't know. You would have done the same thing. My Clan would still have turned against me. Everything would still have been the same because of one thing: your inability to stay impartial when it comes to me. You became a puppet strung along lines the moment you believed Lai Guanlin. You've became yet another broken pawn piece on his bloody chess board."
"You're but a broken pawn piece on his bloody chess board."
Taeyong's heart raced in similarity recognition. "His?" he repeated quietly. "Who, Dong?"
The Chinese boy's eyes glittered with an indescribable malice. "Quid, cum oblivionem est, utique (Why, the forgotten one, of course)."
..
"Are you here to stay?" Yangyang massaged the girl's tensed shoulders after a good two hours of the four of them working on the Math project. "For real, this time?"
The four of them were back in their little hang out room, Tzuyu and Yanjun now screaming at each other as they gamed on their phones.
"For real," Yilin confirmed lazily, reaching a hand back to pat him. "Why, you don't want me back?"
Of course not. He was the happiest that she was back. They were the closest amongst the five, after all. He just didn't want to raise his own hopes to have them shattered to pieces again.
"Of course. You being here's more competition for attention," he pretended to think. "Less people will be talking about what I wear and the things I say. Horrible."
She laughed. A familiar tinkling joyful sound. "You've been spending way too much time with that brat Yanjun, I swear."
"That's because you haven't been around for so long," he murmured, lips close to her ear. "I missed you, Yiyi. School has been so boring without you."
..
Wonwoo didn't even know what he was supposed to report anymore.
"You're early," the Bae woman said airily, smiling when he stepped through the doors. The fluffy cat bundled in her arms looked very disgrunted to see him but he couldn't give less of a shit about it's opinions.
"Half day," he replied off-handedly. "Today would be the last day I'll be reporting, anyway. Yilin's returning back to Gangwon tomorrow."
Irene hummed in indication that she was listening.
The Jeon boy didn't even know where to start. "Dong Sicheng came to the school during Lunch. Made a beeline for the girl. They were discussing something, and from the looks of it, the discussion went well. No fights. She was surprisingly well-behaved today, other than that she came a little late for her first class."
"A good end to a chaotic start," the Bae-Jeon leader smiled in approval. "Brilliant."
The story hadn't ended yet though, the both of them knew. There was still the unsolved mystery behind the ones pulling the strings behind this whole situation, and they still had no how everything is going to play out after. The war had rode out it's climax, for sure, but what's to come may not be as expected.
This was just the end of Yilin's adventures in Saejong High. A beautiful, peaceful end.
"The Dong-Huangs have lost and sunk," the woman continued. "It is the perfect time for Winwin to return to power. A ravishing exhibit of power. A beautiful show. Well-planned. Well executed. As expected from Dong Sicheng. He truly never disappoints."
Wonwoo cocked his head. "A ravishing exhibit of power? A beautiful show?" he echoed, bewildered. "What do you mean? He suffered the most from the betrayal of his Clan! His cousin is still in coma in the House of Kim!"
"Collateral damage," she waved dismissively. "Or simply a trigger. Wonderful. Sicheng's mind is really something of a work of art."
The Jeon boy was putting the puzzle pieces togther now. Piece by piece, they formed a clearer and clearer image.
"You're saying he knew from the start?" Wonwoo breathed. "He knew this was going to happen, and everything that followed was a controlled situation?"
She hummed in approval, "If you love someone, let them go. If they come back to you, they were really yours. Clever. He knew his worth. He was waiting for them to figure it too. Victory is always sweeter when the losers come back crawling and begging for you to take them back." Her fingers clicked against her table. "And the scouting of Wang Yilin. Truly ingenious. He knew there was no winning a war against her from the start, so the first he did when things started going downhill was to find Yilin. Somehow 'bump' into her on his race against them. There he leveraged his disposition of being a Dong-Huang Clan enemy to seek familiarity with the girl. He pressed on the pressure point that she killed his parents, she orphaned him, and there he walked the risky path of using her guilt, crave for action, and loyalty to her friends to get her to do the down and dirty work." She barked out an impressed laugh. "He pretended to play along with the ones orchestrating this whole thing because he wanted to teach Lee Taeyong a lesson. He did it for himself, not because he had to. That was why he didn't want to involve the Kims initially. God, this man's mind is beautiful. Cruel and twisted but beautiful."
..
"Are you excited?" Dong Sicheng murmured, watching the masked man enter the train through his phone screen. "In mere hours you'll be having a full family reunion, my sweet puppeteer."
He turned his phone off as he stepped from the roof ledge, a smile playing at his lips as he returned back into class.
"Yo bro, who's got you smiling like that?" Mark called out when the Chinese boy settled into his seat.
"Lady Luck," Sicheng winked.
a/n: vote, comment and share!!
// unrelated: omw to losing my shit,, wtf is this mf semester??😩😩
coming up next:
"You're not leaving," I noted. "Is this your choice?"
His smile was frighteningly lighthearted. "Why the surprise? Have I ever seemed like a particularly forgiving person?"