The Trials and Tribulations of Pathos - Jikook

Chapter 1

Jimin brushes off his tailored black slacks, readjusting his pressed inky button-up and slipping his mirrored sunglasses over his eyes as the ashy-haired male steps into the tall building. His head is held high, chin jutted out and shoulders back as he struts into his workplace. It's not often he has the need to come here, but despite his infrequent visits, everyone knows him. Well- people don't exactly know him personally or know the extent of his business there or what his job entails, but they do know that he's an important person and an asset to the company.

The ashy-haired male continues his languid but purposeful walk past lower-down business persons, breezing past wide-eyed security with just a show of his ID card. He can feel the eyes on him as he makes his way briskly toward the elevator, shiny black Docs squeaking on the waxed floor in the quieted building. He doesn't care what anyone here thinks of him- in fact, the rumors that are spread about his uncommon visits are probably best when it comes to covering his tracks.

He's here for one purpose and one purpose only, Jimin thinks to himself as he watches people whisper behind raised hands, stares directed at him through the closing elevator doors. He pushes his shoulders back again, raising his chin even more as he breathes in and out to calm his heart.

It's not that he's nervous, or so he tells himself. The mysterious and cool-headed Park Jimin, nervous? Never. He's been in much more adrenaline-inducing situations, so this should be nothing. But the thing is, it isn't.

Before he can let his nerves get the better of him, the elevator chimes, and the doors are sliding open in front of him, revealing a long hallway carpeted in a deep royal blue, intricate golden swirls woven into the plush material. The walls are covered in expensive paintings, golden sconces littered around the art. The whole hallway screams wealth and riches, and Jimin can't help but feel a little intimidated.

Not as much by the wealth, but by what the wealth entails. About what memories the wealth brings back; about what truths lie beyond the wealth. Not just truths, but several, several lies weaved in with them. About the pressure to choose to either ignore those lies or dig them out.

Jimin closes his eyes behind the tinted shades, grabbing a hold of himself before stepping out into the hallway. He passes door after door, most that hold secrets he knows of, but some that he's never gotten to explore. He counts the doors as he passes; nothing is labeled, as to confuse people who haven't been briefed on where things are and therefore shouldn't be on this floor.

The ash-haired male finally reaches the door he's looking for, taking in the old oil painting of a naked lady beside it, rolling his eyes as he pushes the remaining nerves from his body and knocking in a specific pattern: two short raps, a pause, five raps, two paused beats, and one more quick knock to finish it off.

Jimin waits for a beat before hearing a lower, dominating voice call out to him from the other side of the door. "Come in," it commands, and he only hesitates slightly before turning the knob and stepping into the well-lit room.

He takes in the familiar hard-wood floor, many seemingly useless knickknacks, and cream-colored, textured walls. It all looks just as he remembers, right down to the large mahogany desk centered at the back of the room, complete with two deep purple chairs in front and one high-backed black one behind the piece of furniture. And the tall, straight-backed black-haired male sitting in it.

"Ah, Mr. Park. Glad you could make it. My people told me your appearance caused quite the scene in the lobby just a couple of minutes ago. Welcome back, please do sit down," he instructs. Jimin bows to him slightly, following his outstretched hand and seating himself in one of the purple chairs. Jimin takes in the papers littered across the desk in front of him, folders and pencils strewn about in what he knows to be organized chaos next to the nameplate that reads Kim Namjoon, Head of Company.

"How have you been?" Namjoon questions, tilting his head to the side and raising a curious eyebrow. "Alright," is all Jimin supplies him with. If there's anything being in this occupation has taught him, it's to not overshare or get personal- even with his boss. Namjoon nods his head, picking up a stack of papers and thumping them on the desk to make them straight before placing them back down and folding his hands on top of them.

"I'm sure you want to get right into it, so let's skip long formalities. You're probably wondering why I've called you back after your leave of absence; forgive me for not saying anything through a call or email, you know how careful we must be when we're in this kind of business." Jimin nods his head in understanding. "There's been a slight... blip, should I say, in one of our... commissions for a client."

At this, Jimin raises a plucked eyebrow, head tilting in interest. He slips his shades off, placing them on the arm of his chair as he crosses his ankles and leans forward slightly. There is never a "blip" with Kim Namjoon. There cannot be a "blip" in this business. If there is, it means they could be in serious trouble. "Do go on," the ash-haired male prompts.

"You see, one of our agents has gone rogue. Luckily, they were lower down in the ranks and therefore didn't know much about us. That is still a problem, however, and we are actively working to... make sure our information isn't spilled nonetheless, to put it nicely," Namjoon says with a look. Jimin nods knowingly, not even batting an eye at the raven-haired male's words. It was the agent's mistake and a grave one at that. They needed to be punished accordingly; too much was on the line for them not to be... disposed of.

"The part where you come in," Namjoon continues, "is the matter of continuing the agent's assignment. See, we believe that their target had something to do with them going rogue. It wouldn't be suspicious except that right after our agent disappeared, the target went off the grid as well. We don't know why and we don't know if it was the target's choice or not, but we need one of our best agents on this case. The client who asked us to take care of this particular target is offering an even higher price for them, and we cannot have this happen again.

"I understand that you're not exactly in our company anymore and have, for the most part, moved on to a different career choice, but I need to ask this of you," Namjoon says, reaching into a drawer behind his desk. "I am offering you this," he says, pulling out several stacks of money and placing them on top of each other, "in payment for your services." Jimin reaches out a graceful hand, picking up one of the stacks and flipping through the bills, estimating how much money was in it and the combined amount of all the bundles.

When he looks up to see Namjoon looking at him pointedly, he sets the stack back down and folds his hands over his crossed legs. "I'm afraid I cannot accept your offer. I do not work for you anymore, and I have given up this lifestyle. Please understand my decision, and I wish the best to your company and your predicament." As Jimin makes a move to stand up and leave before something less than ideal happens, Namjoon holds up a finger. "Then maybe I can change your mind?" he asks as he pulls out a briefcase and opens it up to show Jimin its contents.

The ash-haired male's eyes widen briefly, taking in the rolls and rolls of bills hidden away in the case. He estimates it to be around one billion won that combined with the bills already placed on the desk comes out to be two billion. Jimin glances back up at Namjoon then back down at the briefcase and the stacks of bills around it. He thinks of his already large house and many designer clothes. Being in the kind of business Jimin is in and having his higher rank doesn't come with a low salary, and he is proud to say that he's very well off. But he thinks about all the kids in the orphanage where he now volunteers part-time- about how the only money coming into the home is through donations. About how few donations they get.

He sighs in defeat, rubbing his eyes tiredly before looking up to Namjoon.

"You have a deal," he concedes finally, shaking the grinning black-haired male's hand as he hears him say "Glad you came to that decision. Here are the files we have on the target. Take them and review them. You may start your assignment as soon as possible."