The place of where row of warehouses were built inside the Incheon Port was an area Yoongi would usually avoid, there was just something about the ambience that didn't really fit into his preference, especially at night like this.
He missed his bed and his woman already.
The shed and the goods inside, were properties of BTS group, the holding company that he and the boys managed.
BTS, as in Bangtan Sonyeondan, a name they picked together back during their early years as teenagers.
It was supposed to be just a spontaneity, something to give their bond a unique identity, but later on, it became their motto instead.
Because in the world they lived in, where they couldn't avoid the dark path and twisted drama along with their chosen way of life, bulletproof mentality certainly necessary in order to survive and thrive.
Hence later on, the acronym being registered as the official name for their holding company.
Along the years, it couldn't be helped that each of them grew and nurtured their own demon, it was a part that couldn't be separated as the process of their growing up within the group.
What was considered normal for them, would deemed as deviant by society, but again, it was a part of their identity.
Tonight was the night that he finally gave himself in, to satiate something in him that had been lingered for the past weeks.
It had been a month since he put his mark on you, and things between him and you had finally cooled down.
You had passed the period of resentment, of when you tried to spite him by giving him the cold shoulder and silent treatment, but he didn't mind.
He thought it was cute even, with the way you always tried to resist him, only to scream his name in bed later.
You belonged to him, and both of you knew there was no denying the fact, especially now with his mark on your hip.
He had been in deep thinking lately, about his life, his work, and your existence inside his complicated world, and he decided, he had to make some changes in his life.
No matter how hard he tried to distinguish between you and his own world, they couldn't be fully separated , and in the end, he would have to make a sacrifice or someone had to bear the consequences later. It was inevitable.
Often times when people decided to break a habit, they would procrastinate.
There would be tomorrow, or the next day, the next week, until they wouldn't realize, weeks turned to months, months turned to years, and the expected change would never happened.
Yoongi wouldn't call tonight's event as procrastinating like before times, more like a milestone.
Just like the last supper, of when he would enjoy the last pleasure of embracing his demon, before cut it out completely from his life. Hopefully.
He took a gun from the glove compartment of his car together with a silencer, and cradling the revolver on his palm. The very weapon that took his parents life from him.
It costed him a great deal of effort and money to track it down, before he could get his hand on the weapon.
It was kept on his safe in his study room, all this time it was like the source of his fixation.
He despised the piece of weapon as well as having a strange fetish over it, until he was finally be able to use it to put six bullets onto the man who used the very same gun to murder his parents.
A twisted irony.
However, after tonight, he was hoping it would become his liberating medium instead, he was ready to let go of the past. It wasn't a choice, he had to.
He slipped the gun into his concealed carry under his blazer, before wearing his mask, and slid out from the car.
Walking to one of the warehouses, he directed his steps towards where a black Ferrari was parked slightly hidden from where he was coming.
Namjoon's car. It baffled him of why the man needed the kind of sport car while his driving skill was near to zero.
Maybe for Namjoon, enjoying an expensive sport car didn't have to come from the pleasure of driving it, or the relish from how smooth or powerful the engine was.
Maybe the plush seat from passenger side was enough for him.
Namjoon's assistant, Jongin, stood leaning on the black car, gave him a light nod and gestured to the door.
Namjoon was already inside.
He proceeded to the entrance, entering the building from the side door.
Inside the big steel construction, rows of wooden crates piled neatly surrounding the room.
Part of the assets from their automotive spare parts factory.
He had to walk a few steps ahead into the empty area around the corner, before finally saw Namjoon sat on a chair, with another empty chair next to him.
A few meters in front of him, two of his men stood with baseball bat on hand, looming over a man whose head covered with a piece of black cloth, tied on both wrists and ankles, knelt down on the floor.
Yoongi took a seat next to Namjoon, the man hasn't yet acknowledged him, still busy with his iPad.
He was wearing a dark jeans with baby blue long sleeve shirt, a snap back Fila cap on his head, a black mask covered his nose and mouth.
The kind of attire that a computer geek would wear, he looked young and carefree.
"Tell me, do you know what is the crime rate in our beloved country?"
Namjoon still didn't look at him.
Yoongi gazed at him with raised brows, didn't expect the kind of question.
"If you ask me about our country's GDP or our stock price growth, then I will know. Why the hell should I be aware about the crime rate?"
"It's twenty six point seventy nine index out of approximately fifty one million residents. Can you believe that? Here I thought that South Korea has the lowest crime rate in the world."
Namjoon still tapping calmly on the game on his iPad.
"And your point is..?"
"With crime rate this high, I'm wondering of two things. First, why our gun regulation should be that strict, I mean we need to blow the head of a lot of villains, don't you think? Self defense too. Second, despite the high crime rate, it was fucking hard to find a criminal with grave offense to satiate your trigger happy fingers. Where are all they go anyway?"
"How should I know? Ask Choi or Park."
Impatiently he reached to his gun inside his coat, his hand was already itchy.
"You owe me a lot, you know that.
And you are quite lucky, the guy here was dumped by Choi himself.
It's up to me to do whatever I pleased, he said. My very very belated birthday present for you. Damn! ..."
Namjoon threw the iPad to the floor furiously, apparently he was defeated on the game he was playing.
Yoongi stared at the gadget on the floor with disapproving look.
"I get it that you have a lot of money more than you can count, but must you throw things like that? It's the latest version, right?"
"It's shatter-proof, they said."
Nonetheless, he reached to it, and put it inside his messenger bag on the floor next to his chair.
"So, what's the offense?"
Yoongi leaned forward and cocked his head a little to try to get a better view, and just realized there were muffled voice coming from the bounded guy, he couldn't see the face, sounded like his mouth was gagged. He was like an animal ready to be slaughtered.
Namjoon scoffed at him.
"International fugitive, wanted in China for drugs, human trafficking and murder. The death sentence is waiting for him in his country. Choi said the paperwork is insane should they want to deport him back to China, why not ease the way then. Not that his government will give a damn anyway, I heard there are hundreds inmates waiting for execution."
"Right."
He didn't need to hear the details, quite depressing to his already stressful life.
Yoongi gestured to one of Namjoon's men to take off the black cloth that covered the guy's face.
Once it was off, he tried to get a good look on him.
The guy's contorted face from the gag in his mouth and his blood shot eyes made it difficult to define his face, but Yoongi could tell he was quite young, maybe around twenty something to thirty.
His muffled voice grew louder now, and it was annoying to him.
"Remove the gag." He said to his man.
Right after his mouth was free, the guy spluttered a barrage of words in chinese, only some of it Yoongi understood.
He rose from his seat, and took the gun from his coat, and directed the muzzle to the guy's temple.
"You can't speak Korean?"
He had limited fluency of chinese, was far better in cantonese. When speaking in mandarin, he needed to inwardly translate the corresponding vocab into cantonese first.
"He should be able to, at least some basic converse. He has been living here for the past two years."
Namjoon quipped.
"In that case, change of question, how many people did you kill?"
He pressed his gun muzzle harder, while speaking in korean.
The guy looked at Yoongi in a mix of rage and fear.
"Who are you? I don't even know you!"
Finally he spoke in language Yoongi understood, albeit with heavy accent, probably from his northern dialect.
"Did you personally know every person you managed to sell out or kill?"
Again the guy muttered some of chinese words that Yoongi could only understand a few, but he was sure it were cursing.
He didn't need a valid reason to kill the guy anyway, he was a lost cause.
He took out the silencer, and screwed the part to his gun.
"What are you doing? ...Please...no..no.."
He tried to get up, only to be pushed down back and held by Namjoon's men, rendering him rooted to the spot.
The guy's frantic screaming and trashing only got on Yoongi's nerve, seeing the wetness on the guy's crotch sipped on his pants, dripping to the floor.
He looked at the man in repugnance, while Namjoon swore behind him, something about the mess they need to clean up later.
"I told you to speak in my language. And you should be grateful, I will give you an easy death."
"Who...who ...are you? What ..what did I do to you?!.."
He screamed, in between his sobs, his eye balls looked red, the crimson color covering almost all of the sclera.
"I was dispatched by your Yán Wáng."
His sinister smile accompanied by his fingers pulling the trigger, producing a muffled gunshot that was quite loud, the silencer almost useless when paired with a revolver.
The bullet pierced through the guy's forehead, right in between his eyes.
The lifeless body slumped to the side, eyes wide, then collapsed on the floor. It bent on a weird angle, result from being tied up.
Hunching over, Yoongi used his right hand to close both of his eyes.
No matter how he took pleasure of killing this kind of scumbag, the dead man deserved some dignity after all.
One of the men had gone to collect the necessary items to dispose of the body, or Choi would collect later, it didn't matter to Yoongi.
He took a deep long breath, the surged sense of satisfaction dispersed throughout his body, the pleasant tingling feel of goosebumps all over his skin every after he pulled a trigger, it was so addictive and so tempting for him to break his resolve.
The powerful feeling like he was a vigilante.
"Yán wáng? As in Jeoseung Saja?"
Namjoon and his fascination with mythology, as always.
"Yŏm-ra Daewang. Saja escorting the souls."
He stroked the gun on his hand, the muzzle felt warm against his palm.
"Namjoon?" He put the gun back to his holster, and walked back to sit next to the younger man.
"I want to abort future missions."
"What do you mean?"
"No more raids. Let authorities handle them from now on.
I don't care about results."
Namjoon didn't answer right away, his eyes observing him carefully.
"It was your idea."
"I know. I've had an afterthought."
It was silent again.
They looked at the scene in front of them, the two assistants dragged the body into a black trash bag, one of them complained about the smell of urine.
"It's Yuri, right?"
Yoongi's silence giving him the unspoken answer, and Namjoon patted on his back with delight.
"Welcome to the club, Hyung."
He grinned from ear to ear conspiratorially.
"But I don't think Seokjin hyung and Jimin will be too happy."
"I'll talk to them. It's not like I have choice anyway."
Standing up, he fished out his phone from his pocket.
It was fifteen past eleven pm.
You were probably sleeping already, he would have the chance to enjoy observing you in your sleep.
"Thanks, Joon. I owed you one."
He didn't wait for his answer before walking towards the exit, proceeded his steps a few hundred meters to the nearest dock.
The scent of salt and sea, and the warm breeze of the summer brought just little calm in him.
There was a long blasting sound of horn from vessel at the other side of the port, breaking the silence surrounding the warehouses.
Crouching down, he took the gun from his coat, silently observing the piece of firearm, remnant of his past flashing back in his mind.
His mother's face, then the memory when he first stared right into your eyes at the restaurant.
A reminder of the reason why he wanted to give up some things in his life.
"I can't wait indefinitely."
Your voice replayed in his mind.
A new beginning, he needed to turn a new page of his life.
He worked on the gun's cylinder latch, checking the chamber to make sure it was empty, then submerging the gun into the dark water.
Carresing the pendant on his neck, he watched as the moonlight cast over the water surface, the rippled waves finally swallowed it down to the bottom of the sea.
He rose to his feet and walked to his car .
He would start a new chapter with you, and hopefully, he wouldn't need to rewind back.
Note:
Yán wáng (阎王) : In Chinese mythology, is the God of the Underworld, who decides the date of death of every living being.
In Korea, the name is Yŏm-ra Daewang (염라대왕), the Great King of Yeom-ra.
Jeoseung Saja (저승사자): Reaper in Korean mythology.
However, the Korean version is slight different than its western counterpart, Saja actually escorts the souls to the underworld, while Grim Reaper is thought to collect the souls, hence him holding the scythe.