[A/N: This story isn't written in a chronologial order as I found the concept of a slightly offset timeline very intruiging!
You can read them in the order I posted them (which is the way I wanted the timeline to be) or in chronological order.]
The material of the sofa felt cool and smooth against your hands as you leaned onto its back, eyes slowly scanning across the sweaty and excited mass of men in the room. Reaching into your jacket, you pulled out some neatly folded fifty thousand won bills while leaning down to your boss, Choi Mujin, who had just taken his seat.
"Who do you want to bet on?" you asked mischievously, Dongcheon's monthly brawl being your usual occasion to bet on the recruits. You were frequently betting on the underdogs while Mujin picked the most vicious looking one. Today wouldn't be much different, the bet placed reminiscent of your own situation as the weaker link after just having joined the recruits' ranks a little over two years ago.
"As if you don't already know." he answered you, a smile flickering across his face while his eyes never left the ring in front of you. A soft scoff left your lips as you reached out, offering the money between your fingers. His head tilted in your direction lightly when instead of letting the bills slide from your hold into his, you held on, humming pensively.
A devilish smile tugged at your features. "Betting on money is so overrated. What about a different wager?" you proposed, which brought a mirror of your smile onto his own face, intrigue at a potentially more interesting bet glinting in his dark gaze.
Before you could decide which probably highly dangerous thing you wanted to offer today, the unease of the crowd brought you out of your negotiations. Taeju had begun arranging the recruits in two rows opposite of each other, tightly packed in the ring surrounded by chain-link walls. All sides were crowded with already established members of the organisation, the finely tailored suits in stark contrast to their rambunctious behaviour, cheering on the fighters.
After Taeju had the permission to start the brawl by Mujin's signal, he motioned to the ring and opened the event with a shout. Immediately, the noise level spiked as the first fighters collided and began harshly attacking.
It seemed as if the suited Dongcheon members had merged into one collective mass, each rooting for the recruit that they had bet on, the sums on the table in front of the sofa indicating the most popular fighters. The biggest pile would go to Mujin's bet; a lot of his members had decided to join their boss in betting on one particular man.
Your eyes scanned the fighting mass, spotting the aforementioned recruit in one corner of the ring, bare back covered in various tattoos and bruises already forming against the inked skin. He was ruthless, beating a smaller man into the chain link, momentarily dispersing the members behind the fence.
It came as no surprise that the recruit you had bet on, a small but quick man with shoulder length hair, had incurred one of the smallest pile of bets, his stature too slight for the majority of the members to bet on. You had seen him fight before, he lacked strength even though he was toned underneath his baggy shirt. There was quite a bit of room for improvement but you'd bet on his eye for technique in hope that by using it, he would be able to cope with the brawn.
The clink of Mujin's lighter brought you back from your careful and calculated observation, it seemed as if you two were the only ones calmly observing - even the usually reserved Taeju had advanced to the edge of the ring. Clearly he had his bets set high.
After a few minutes of silently watching, your eyes were drawn to your boss' hand, mentioning you closer mutely against the noise of the room. Returning your watchful gaze to the fight, you stepped forward, bending at the waist to be able to hear him over the ruckus.
When your head was on his level, your hands again braced against the back of the sofa, he turned into you slightly, gaze remaining in the ring. "Do you want to talk about that personal bet of yours again?" you could hear the calculated mirth in his voice and winced when your recruit took a particularly hard hit, face bouncing on the mat. He tried to get up for a second but then remained still and you groaned, annoyed at his lack of backbone.
"They're getting sloppy, Sir." you observed, the cigarette smoke billowing around your faces delicately while Mujin took a drag in thought. If your reflexes had been any slighter, he might have struck your chin with his shoulder as he suddenly got up, stepping around the low table in front of him. You straightened in interest, hands remaining leaning on the sofa though.
With a rough command, he brought the remaining fighters to a halt, around half of them had already gone K.O. or were recovering from being unconscious. Every waking eye in the room turned onto your collective leader, the edge to his tone commanding nothing but full attention.
You could tell he was pissed off that the recruits had resorted to fighting dirty, not acting on their training but instead resorting to escalating force, powering themselves out unnecessarily. This also meant that over the course of your short conversation with Dongcheon's boss, more and more recruits were K.O.'ed so hard they hadn't regained consciousness yet. Though there were no official rules except no killing, it was endangering not only themselves by being reckless and giving up their guard, but also the other men.
As your simple statement had triggered Mujin to stop the fight altogether, he seemed to have been thinking the same when beckoning you over. He voiced your collective thought as just that.
"A good fighter is not defined by strength. You may be a weak mind hiding behind brawn, only the strong willed ones will bring physical and mental strength to a fight. You don't aim to simply win. Never forget what we stand for, even if there is a designer suit in it for you." leaving a pregnant pause to linger in the stuffy air, he stepped closer to the ring leisurely, all attention still transfixed on him.
"Never fight recklessly, that is reserved for moments of weakness. Keep your guard up at all times." he emphasized, looking around the room at all the recruits still standing. "What you need is to be equal parts hot aggression," he brought one fist up. "and calm thinking." His other hand joined the first. "Don't let them know what you are thinking. No fear. No hesitation. No mercy." when his eyes had made rounds through the ring, they fell onto yours that hadn't left his figure for a second. Where most of the recruits hadn't been able to hold his dark gaze, you wouldn't be able to look away, even if you wanted.
The corner of his mouth turned up in a cold smirk, directly addressing you now. "Do you want to show them how it's supposed to be?"
A whisper goes through the group of recruits, they only knew you as Mujin's secretary. No one dared to speak up though, the cruel slant to his brows still prevalent.
Without the aforementioned hesitancy, you had already straightened fully and began unbuttoning your suit jacket, shrugging out of it languidly. When you had placed it over the back of the sofa, you caught the cream coloured jacket he threw you easily, draping it next to yours. Mujin had already pulled his tie from around his neck, flicking it onto the small table that stood to one side in the time it took you to make your way to the ring, copying him but tucking the material into your pocket instead. While you popped your cuffs and the first button on your shirt, your boss had unbuttoned his dress shirt halfway, the Dongcheon symbol on his pectoral visible when he shifted.
Usually when you trained, you liked to use combat gloves so as not to hurt your opponent too badly and scuff up your knuckles. The thought of a real fist fight brought adrenaline to your veins, the spike evoking a slick smile on your face. While you were usually also involved in every deal and meeting that Mujin attended, it had been a few weeks since you had gotten to hone in on your fighting skills out of the training ring. Also your last session with the boss had been quite a while back and even though he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, you usually saw the other members brawling on more occasions.
Your calculating gaze was returned by your leader, determined to give every single man in the room a demonstration of Dongcheon's finest and dissipate every thought of you both just being representatives of the organisation hiding behind the members. You deliberately let your hair fall into your face, disguising your gaze as you got into a fighting stance, easily bouncing on your feet.
"Watch and learn." Mujin called out before copying you, a sly grin thrown your way. "Don't hold back."
"I would never." you grinned back and brought your fists up in a guard position. The air in the gym was so thick you could have cut it with a knife had you wanted to, all eyes on you and the crime boss now circling slowly.
You feigned a swipe at him that he had clearly anticipated, stepping into your fake jab and retaliating with a combo of punches himself. By instinct, your upper body leaned back and out of his range before blocking another incoming blow with your forearm. Crowding into his space with your guard up, you brought your leg up, trying to collide with his waist which he deflected with his own arm, pushing the other forearm into your guard, trying to knock you off balance. Quickly switching feet, you returned to your stance and let your upper body fall, swinging your leg around and up high as a counterweight, aiming for his shoulders with your heel.
An appreciative nod was sent your way as Mujin quickly ducked under your leg, he had sensed the power behind your move and it would have knocked out a man with lesser reflexes. Another barrage of punches hailed from both of you, an intricate and beautiful piece of choreography. Occasionally a blow hit home, your lower arms and ribs smarting slightly. You in turn had landed a kick to his side and a swing to his shoulder that had knocked him back a fair bit.
From time to time the both of you called out points to look out for.
When Mujin's hand caught your leg mid-kick and he tried to wrestle you to the ground, something in the air shifted. Barely managing not to hit the floor by rolling backwards, you looked up at him from your crouched position. Even though your hair fell into your eyes, he could see your narrowing gaze, upper lip twitching up minutely to show your teeth. As you anticipated his next attack, slowly circling again, you kept more of a bend to your knees, taking advantage of your smaller statue, guarding your torso. Where you liked to use your legs, Mujin was more prone to using his upper body strength, so you minimizing his opportunities had him muster you intensely.
Where you had anticipated a switch in that preference, his kicks did pack a punch judging by the rip against your shirt when you scarcely backed away. The heel of his dress shoe had narrowly missed your chest as you leaned back but had caught the row of buttons, ripping a few of them open. A flutter of howls went through the crowd of men as your shirt was now as far open as Mujin's. You snorted through your nose, as if they'd never seen a sports bra before - you knew better than to wear something that's not practical while working in your field.
A grin stretched your lips when you saw Mujin's eyes flicker to your own tattoo and used his moment of distraction to launch yourself up at him, grabbing hold of his right arm as leverage and ducking under it at the same time, managing to turn his body with yours and threw him over your left shoulder. Without so much as a groan, the older man got to his feet quickly, shaking his head at you slightly, a small cut underneath his eyebrow had bled a bit, emphasizing the ravenous look on his face.
"Use every distraction that you've got. Each window of opportunity can be precious." you rumbled teasingly. A scoff escaped the man opposite you at your tone before advancing on you once more, initiating a more brutal but not less graceful exchange of blows and kicks. You were fighting for endurance though even for the age difference you were evenly matched, none of you letting up many opportunities. Mujin got in a strong blow to your shoulder before cutting up, clipping your jaw. The familiar metallic taste of blood filled your mouth when you were forced to bite on your cheek in order to not gasp at the pang of pain. A trickle of blood collected at the corner of your mouth and Mujin's eyes were drawn in when you licked your lips, baring your bloodied teeth deliberately. Curses could be heard from behind the chain link at your display.
You used the occasion to close in again, feigned a kick and tried to get past the leader's guard. He blocked you easily but left you enough time to slip a hand up between his arms to get hold of the back of his head. Another round of curses filled the room when your knee came up as far as your own shoulder, colliding with Mujin's nose. Swiftly, you drew your leg back to hook behind his knee while he was distracted with his face. What you didn't see coming was his hands grabbing your forearms while you were in proximity, pushing against one while pulling the other - effectively spinning you straight into him, your back to his front. Also it meant that his own arm was automatically placed across your chest and when he pulled it up quickly, you were trapped in a chokehold. He brought his left hand up to hold onto his right forearm, putting sufficient pressure on your neck to make you gasp shortly.
Even though he didn't choke you out, you brought your hands up in surrender, blowing a strand of hair out of your face when he let up a bit of his grip, though still holding you against his chest, heart beating strongly against your back.
"If you want to fight effectively, focus on the vital points of your opponent. You should all know this by heart, but since I haven't seen you use it earlier, I will demonstrate." Mujin lectured, his breath stirring your hair with how close he held you. The height difference kept you on the tips of your toes, if he leant back and flexed his arm he could probably choke you out just by using gravitational force.
His fingers brushed your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear gently - a stark contrast to the potentially dangerous grip he still had on you.
"Every opponent is different, but the following points will give you an advantage if you can target them." A touch to the side of your head. "Temple," he began, fingers crossing in front of your face. "Upper lip," he continued, fore and middle fingers lightly touching your cupid's bow. "Chin," accompanied by another gentle touch to your chin that was still held by the crook of his arm. As you knew the vital points, you did not flinch when he touched upon the low end of your sternum, fingers coming into contact with your skin because of your open shirt "Solar Plexus,". You couldn't move your head much, yet tried to gauge his next move from your peripheral. His taller build meant there was no way you'd catch his gaze, even so your trust in Mujin never faltered. "and lastly, genitals." he concluded with what you guessed was a vague gesture as you felt no touch after the last. He may be ruthless and cunning, but he had his morals, no matter how far off from the usual they were - he'd never had tolerance for nonconsensual advances on women, or men, for that matter.
"No one wins this month's brawl. Get back to practicing, if I see another one of you lacking..." The words hung heavy in the air, no need to concretize. The certitude in his tone made the recruits scamper to their accommodation quickly, carrying those that were still unconscious and supporting those that were awake but hurt. The established members also dispersed, going after their scheduled tasks now that the show was over.
Only now did Mujin relax his arm around your neck, turning you around to gaze down at you. A smudge of blood was smeared across your mouth yet as he brought his hand up, you caught hold of it. "Don't worry," you assured him due to the furrow in his brow. Though you had not planned to go that hard at each other, it had felt good to let loose for a while, relying on instinct and training. "you should see yourself, Sir." As the grin pulled across your lips, revealing the still red tinge to your teeth, you reached into your pocket and brought the fabric of your tie up to his face to dab gently at the cut under his eyebrow. The both of you looked equally feral, your bloody grin and his bloody nose and upper lip the signs of your fighting spirit.
He took the material from your fingers, pressing it under his nose with a hiss whilst guiding you back to the table with a hand on your lower back. Usually not fond of touching others, your extensive mutual trust permitted physical touch when needed.
There was a moment spent in silent observation as Mujin took his proffered jacket from you when you reached the sofa. "We both know you could have gotten out of that chokehold easily." he mused while shrugging on the piece of clothing, choosing to leave his shirt undone. A crooked smile passed over your face as you copied his actions, "Yeah, perhaps. That's not the point, though."
You caught another glimpse at his own tattoo when he bent to pour two glasses of liquor, a small drop of blood standing out against his skin when he straightened again. His nose had again started to bleed slightly but he, too, indicated to you not to worry with a miniscule shake of his head. Gaze flickering between his chest and face, your eyes were fixed on the latter when he licked his top lip, now matching your bloody smile. That cunning man; he left you speechless for once, thoughts racing but head utterly empty at the same time. A finger underneath your chin brought your eyes back to his when your gaze had again been fixed on his chest. "Don't worry." he copied you and pressed one of the glasses into your hand.
Before you could each take your first sip, Taeju appeared to your right, inquiring gaze passing between you two. Dual nods seemed to calm the man.
He held out a handkerchief to Mujin which he tucked into his jacket and a thought seemed to cross his mind as pulled his phone from that same pocket to offer it to Taeju. Bless the other man, he copped on faster than you did and motioned to you to step towards your boss. You must've looked like a right mess yet you still complied and shifted into Mujin's side. After a few moments, an expression of confidence passed over Taeju's face as he'd apparently gotten a good shot. Not that you had offered that much varying material.
"I'll have the car waiting for you, Sir." he gently excused himself again, striding towards the gym's exit but not without looking back to check on you two over his shoulder. A slight laugh left you at his antics before turning to look at the result. The same slight expression of confidence graced Mujin's features as he tilted the phone for you to see.
Yet to have to look into a mirror, you were weirdly enthralled by your appearance. A bruise began forming on your jaw, curling around the bone and down your neck. The smudge across your mouth was more opaque than you'd thought, painting your lips in something akin to war paint. Together, you two really made quite the impression, bloody and bruised in the best way, slightly dishevelled hair and in suits with wide open necklines. The shot encompassed you from the waist up, but what really caught your focus was that you looked utterly dangerous. Not a twitch of a smile, two dark gazes in an equally ferocious manner. You had to admit, you looked good, something stirring low in your stomach as you looked at Mujin's expression.
The crooked smile returned to your face as you looked up at the man, a nod of appreciation accompanying it. When he had returned the phone to his pocket, you raised your glass to his in salutation.
"건배 (geonbae - 'Bottoms up')" you toasted and the liquid burned as it came in contact with the open wounds in your mouth, making you inhale sharply. It brought your senses back to their usual sharpness, attentive eyes observing Mujin placing a smoke between his lips over the rim of your glass. The way the white of it stood out starkly against the fresh dark red staining his upper lip and beard resulted in a shiver racing up your spine in the most pleasant way. You tipped your head back to empty your glass and only heard the sharp intake of breath as the man's eyes lingered on your bruised neck swallowing the liquor. The smoke curled around Mujin's lips elegantly and his gaze followed your neck up to your mouth as you licked your lips, savouring the last of the exquisite alcohol. An interesting observation that had you tip your neck slightly, observing him still - you tried holding back the smirk but it seemed he had realized the same as you, puffing softly through his nose.
The gesture brought your gaze down from his eyes to his nose, a slight bruise had already begun to form on the bridge. Gently, you took the glass from his hand, emptying the last sip and placing them back on the table. "Let's go, shall we?" you encouraged him, falling into your usual pace beside him when he moved to leave.
You cringed slightly when the daylight hit your face after the relative darkness of the gym, your boss placing a pair of shades on his face gingerly. Taeju had pulled the car up next to your motorcycle, the relatively nice weather had urged you to ride separately today.
Mujin stopped next to the open car door, leaning against the chassis slightly and dragging on his smoke while you checked your bike and then swung your leg over, settling comfortably. The feeling of the machine underneath you comforted you.
"Are we still on for Samgyeopsal later?" you asked, the usual small restaurant being a safe meeting space outside of the hotel and gym. A new manufacturer was to open in the next week and you still had to work out some details.
"Of course." he spoke, smoke accentuating his words. He held up his cigarette, offering it to you silently which you took appreciatively, leaning back onto your bike as he slid into the car with a curt nod.
Something about the way he looked in the natural light, bruises and blood ever more pronounced, sunglasses obstructing your view of his gaze and cigarette smoke curling from his lips had brought back the feeling in your abdomen. You shook your head gently as the Mercedes pulled away, ever more grateful for the calmness the nicotine brought back to you.
Just as you had pulled on your helmet and started up the machine, your phone vibrated in your pocket. "We should fight more often." the notification simply stated. Attached was the picture of Mujin and you. With a soft laugh you sped out of the parking lot.