By Zephyria 
Perhaps because he was in a panic, his self-reproach became deeper than usual. Min-ho, who had been twisting his wrists, slowly lifted his head, letting all the strength leave his body. His swollen lips slowly moved to make a sound.
“If a father would cut ties with his son, there must be a reason, right?”
“……You, fuck.”
It was a very small voice, but it reached Son Pro without wavering.
“For example, if he’s not actually blood-related, or if the child is such trash that they violate the laws of nature.”
“…….”
“Or maybe he went around scamming people using his father’s name?”
“Shit!”
The swung fist struck his jaw directly. He hadn’t learned golf in vain; the swing landed perfectly. The blow felt as if it made his brain ring. Of course, the first thing that improved after entering this world was his endurance. This much was easily bearable.
Son Pro, who grabbed the limp Min-ho by the collar and pulled him up, slammed another fist down.
“You’re, always, so good with words!”
“Ugh……”
His cheek and jaw were tingling. The inside of his cheek had burst, and he felt the smell of blood drifting through his body every time he breathed.
“Phew, looking at the Director’s face makes my heart go soft. I must have grown fond of you.”
Looking down at the cheek that must be torn, Son Pro let his eyebrows droop.
“Hey. You guys give him a massage instead.”
“Leave it to us.”
The gangsters, rolling up their sleeves, crept closer. Three? If it’s three, it’s still bearable. Min-ho let his body go limp, scanning the inside of his torn cheek with his tongue. A shadow fell over the sprawled Min-ho, and soon violence poured down. Min-ho endured all the violence with his mouth shut tight.
How long had he been getting beaten? Just as he reached the thought that he could have fought back if only the hands tied behind his back were freed, he felt his upper body being lifted by a force grabbing his collar.
“The Director is holding up quite well, isn’t he?”
Min-ho spat out a mouthful of blood. A red clump clung to Son Pro’s cheek before sliding down. Seeing Son Pro’s face turn purple with rage, Min-ho suddenly felt a pang of regret. He hadn’t intended to go as far as spitting. This was exactly how Won Gyu-oh used to act. Well, having spent so much time together, it was only natural for their behaviors to mirror one another.
“If you can’t handle this, it’d be embarrassing to call yourself a former gangster.”
His mouth was moving on its own. He spat out words that Gyu-oh would have laughed hysterically at, then pushed up the corner of his mouth, which was stained crimson with blood.
“What? I’m a gangster?”
“Nooo…”
A lingering laugh remained at the end of his drawn-out words. Despite his severely swollen face, Min-ho smirked. He was glad he’d decided to take Gyu-oh home. He was glad he’d sent him up to the room to pack his things. If that guy had suffered this fate here, he would have been very—very sad. A few low-life gangsters might be nothing to Won Gyu-oh, but that precious face of his would have ended up with at least one scratch.
“Our… our company is full of former gangsters. Didn’t you know?”
“What?”
“Since we’re gangsters, we’re on the same level as someone like you.”
He giggled, chatting away. He didn’t even know what was so funny. Perhaps he was laughing just to hide his labored breath.
As he continued, he heard the sound of teeth grinding. Son Pro wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, stood up abruptly, and kicked Min-ho hard in the shoulder with his sneaker. After that, a barrage of indiscriminate violence poured down.
Unlike the other gangsters, this wasn’t a targeted strike on painful spots; it was simply a merciless act. Perhaps that’s why it was more bearable than before. He even had the leisurely thought that if they weren’t in a warehouse, he could have dealt with a guy like this in no time.
“Fuck, I knew it. Where do these piece-of-shit gangsters think they can just mess things up? Fuck! How the hell did you rig the test results?”
Staggering as he kicked, Son Pro suddenly looked around. Then, he strode toward a burlap sack lying quietly in one corner. Min-ho didn’t know what was inside, but it didn’t seem like a threat.
Min-ho blinked as he watched the stupid sight of the man’s legs giving out, causing him to fall, only to struggle back up. His vision gradually blurred. It felt like he was about to lose consciousness, just as he’d hoped.
Maybe it was because of the situation, but he suddenly missed Gyu-oh. He felt sorry for having been cold to him for a while, and sorry for shaking him up for no reason. Our Gyu-oh, who suffers so much because of his pathetic Hyung…
Just as he was catching his breath with a smile on his stiff lips, thinking of Gyu-oh, a loud, roaring engine sound echoed. He had heard several cars passing by, but the unnaturally loud noise made Min-ho’s eyebrows twitch.
“Damn, so noisy.”
He heard one of the gangsters mutter while covering his ears. He wanted to reply that he thought the same, but the strength was draining from his body. Just as the loud noise began to scatter like tinnitus—
Screeech, Thump! A thunderous crash erupted, as if the abandoned warehouse were shaking. Amidst the gangsters who were awkwardly lowering their stances, Min-ho slowly raised his upper body. A sudden tension filled the warehouse where only musty dust had been drifting.
Crash! The closed door burst open as if it had been demolished. Two wheels rolled in quickly over the floor where the latch lay broken and scattered. Min-ho blinked slowly, struggling to focus his vision.
“Where’s the piece of shit who hung up the phone so fucking rudely.”
It was a voice that could be recognized even in the middle of Seoul. Through the gap where he had flicked up his face shield, fierce eyes could be seen flashing menacingly. The moment their eyes met, he immediately let out a curse.
“You fucking—!”
The echo reverberated through the quiet warehouse. Gyu-oh, who had hurriedly dismounted his motorcycle, turned his head to check every person present. Then, he spotted Son Pro hiding among the burlap sacks in a corner, and his expression shifted.
“…Why did you come alone again.”
Even without looking, it was obvious he’d acted on his own. He should have moved with the others; it’s dangerous. Thinking this, Min-ho struggled to prop up his torso.
Gyu-oh took strides forward, removing his helmet. Then, gripping the hard helmet tightly in his hand, he slammed it down toward Son Pro, who was hiding between the sacks.
“You piece of shit! Are your eyes just for show?!”
“Ugh, ack! Ah!”
Thud, thud. A dull cracking sound spread every time the helmet slammed into the small of the back. Strangely, Gyu-oh’s voice, spitting out every single syllable, sounded clearer than Son Pro’s desperate screams.
“If you realized you brought the wrong person, you should have let him go! Where the fuck do you get off tying his hands so cowardly!”
Wham! The helmet in Gyu-oh’s hand repeatedly slammed down and soared back up. A glistening fluid began to stain the black helmet.
“S-stop him! Hey!”
The desperate shout rang out again. The gangsters, who had been hesitating at the savage momentum, belatedly rushed in. After delivering one final blow to Son Pro, Gyu-oh threw the helmet far away. Thump, thump! The helmet bounced and rolled toward the motorcycle.
“So you guys are the real idiots, huh?”
Disheveled hair, blood splattered on his cheek, slightly crazed eyes, and a curled lip. He didn’t look normal at all, which made the gangsters hesitate. Gyu-oh beckoned with a finger and stepped forward.
“All three of you, come.”
Their builds were similar, but Gyu-oh was significantly taller. Moreover, the atmosphere was completely skewed in Gyu-oh’s favor. Perhaps that’s why Min-ho wasn’t particularly worried. He just thought Gyu-oh shouldn’t waste his energy and should have come with the others.
“Quit playing gangster, you blockheads!”
With one kick, one gangster was sent flying. The others rushed in shouting simultaneously, but their ends were not much different. Min-ho rubbed his tied wrists together before giving up and slowly putting strength into his knees.
By the time he had almost managed to raise his body, the three gangsters were crawling on the floor, groaning. Just as he parted his lips to tell Gyu-oh to untie his hands now that it was over, Son Pro, who had been sprawled among the sacks, bolted upright. He was covered in blood to a terrifying degree, trembling so much it was visible from a distance.
His frantic eyes were fixed on Gyu-oh, and in his hand, he held an unidentified piece of plastic.
“…”
Min-ho’s slowly blinking eyes widened. For a moment, he had the illusion that a scene from a nightmare was unfolding before him again. The moment he realized the edge of the fragment in Son Pro’s blood-stained hand was excessively sharp, his body moved instinctively.
He didn’t know where the strength came from. His mind, which had been hazy until a moment ago, snapped awake instantly.
“No…”
Even though his center of gravity kept shifting because his hands were tied behind his back, Min-ho moved his legs quickly. Son Pro seemed to have no interest in him rushing toward him. He was only staring at Gyu-oh, who was pulling up one of the gangsters to punch him.
In that short time, cold sweat poured down. The image of Jae-hyeok bleeding overlapped with Gyu-oh’s back, and he imagined Gyu-oh bleeding after being stabbed by something sharp. He felt his irregular breath catch in his throat.
Having been trapped in countless nightmares, he had learned one thing. That in times like this, he must not stupidly stand by with his hands tied. That time passed can never be turned back. That he must never let a precious person slip away again.
And if that person was Won Gyu-oh, he had to protect him with every fiber of his being.
He didn’t know where the courage came from. He didn’t know why he was pushing himself this far. He only had one thought: he had to protect Won Gyu-oh.
“Hyung?”
Gyu-oh, who had been rotating his wrists, turned his head with a frown. Discovering Son Pro had approached, Gyu-oh reached out as if to protect Min-ho. However, Min-ho was one step faster, twisting his body to block Son Pro.
“Both of you… are dead…!”
He faced those bloodshot eyes head-on. In an instant, his body swayed and the distance to Son Pro closed. A sickening sensation of something digging deep into his lower abdomen echoed—shink—but he clenched his teeth and suppressed the sound. Blood leaked from the inside of his cheek, which had burst between his tightly shut teeth.
“Di… Director Cha…”
A panicked Son Pro widened his eyes. His lips were trembling visibly.
Beeeep, tinnitus rang in his ears. He felt like he’d lost his senses to tinnitus when Jae-hyeok died, too. This time, it’s my turn.
“Hyung!”
A scream that sounded like a desperate plea reached him faintly. He could feel a warm body temperature enveloping him, but his mind kept growing hazy. As he collapsed, his vision wavered violently.
“All…”
A raspy voice, as if scratching his throat, leaked out and then faded weakly. Every time he blinked, different scenes appeared.
He saw the back of Gyu-oh kicking the stunned Son Pro, then he saw a pale face clutching his cheek. He recalled the lips that had remained tightly shut, pretending to be fine even while hurt by his words, and the gaze that had tenderly checked on him after he’d woken up from only a few hours of sleep. Was this the panoramic view of one’s life that appears before death?
“Haha…”
He had pushed and pushed against the wall. It seemed Won Gyu-oh had already stepped inside that sturdy wall.
“Min-ho Hyung, wake up! Get a hold of yourself!”
Seeing anxiety flicker across the face of the guy who never seemed flustered, it seemed Cha Min-ho had been carved quite deeply into that heart.
“Cha Min-ho!”
“…”
Still, he was glad he could protect his precious person this time.
With that final thought, Min-ho fell into a sweet sleep for the first time in a long while.