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── ❝ 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑺𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵」
❝ 家族親睦会 ; .FAMILY REUNION ❞
ONCE AGAIN, TAEHYUNG HAD FOUND himself inhaling the cold, stale, metallic air of his warehouse. A half-burnt cigarette hangs loosely from his lips, ashes slowly falling off in clumps as he never tapped them off himself. He sat staring at the man tied up in front of him, completely limp in the flimsy chair he was tied up in. Jung Hoseok, the mastermind behind all of this bullshit. To think, it was just one man who could orchestrate all of this. Taehyung didn't know whether to be impressed or pissed that he had been bested by a single man.
Either way, this thing could come to an end.
Taehyung took another long drag of his cigarette, making his way over to the unconscious, slumped body in the middle of the room. He grabbed the man by the hair, gripping him firmly at the scalp. All in routine, he pressed his lit cigarette to his cheek. A pleasant wake-up in Taehyung's opinion, he could have Jimin perform open-heart surgery in the most inhumane way possible.
Hoseok awoke yelling, eyes snapping open, his once limp body tensed, suddenly alert and very aware of the steering pain in his cheek. "Fuck, man! Get that shit off of me!" The mark left on his skin was easily a second-degree burn that would forever scar his previously flawless skin. His jaw tightened and his eyes flared with anger and pain.
It simmered down a bit when he realized who he was sitting in front of. Anger was replaced with pride, sizing him up and down. "Huh..." He scoffed with a low chuckle rumbling in the base of his chest. "I kinda expected you to be older...and uglier. You're just a kid. Have your balls even dropped yet? I bet you haven't even started growing pubic hair." Leave it to Hoseok to always say the most out-of-pocket shit in the worst of times. It was like he was simply asking to get himself chopped into tiny pieces and fed to the dogs.
Soft giggling could be heard from the two men standing to the far right, huddled together as they try to stifle the laughter that threatens to break from their lips. They're quick to correct themselves when Taehyung's eyes snap over to them. Their lips are sealed, tightly pressed into a thin line while awkwardly clearing their throat.
Taehyung was in no mood to deal with some shitlord fence trying to play his meaningless games to extend whatever little like he had left in his body. "I wouldn't waste your few last breaths with jokes." He opened his hand and Jungkook handed him his brass knuckles. The metal was cold against his palm, but would quickly heat up once it got its first taste of blood. Taehyung slipped his fingers into it and tightened a fist. "I suggest to tell me everything I need to know. At least your death will be merciful."
Hoseok refused to get this far along and suddenly start pissing his pants. His lips twisted upwards. "No...I don't think I will." His pride would get him killed, but who the fuck cares, he won. His family would have more than enough money to be able to live a comfortable life. So screw the King. He looked around. "Where's your favorite bitch? You know it's dangerous to keep your dog off its leash-"
