𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲 ―𝐝.𝐨.𝐝

Arc 2

[ Cho Seungmin's POV ]

The hallway was dark. There were only a few amber lights to show me the way.

But I've come through enough to know where to go.

I knocked on a door located at the end of a hallway.

"Come in," a gruff voice ordered.

I opened the heavy door and went inside.

My father was sitting at a polished wooden desk. The floor was made of a rustic red carpet. I stepped on it as I got closer.

"Father, I've debuted," I announced.

"Tell me something useful."

He skimmed through some papers while smoking his cigar.

"I won't be able to do much work as J anymore."

The papers stopped. He looked up at me. His greying hair was gelled back, so I could see his narrow eyes clearly.

"Are you asking me to quit workin for your little game?" he snarled.

"The game ended up more fun than I expected," I replied calmly.

"Shotaro," he said, tapping his finger on the desk, "you are my son. You're supposed to inherit what I've made."

"You have another son."

"He's not my son. He doesn't have my blood in him."

"What an old way of thinking."

"Shotaro."

"I'm J right now," I answered, pointing to my mask.

Another rapid tap on his desk.

"I've come to say I have a proposal since I knew you wouldn't like this," I continued. "You don't like that you might lose money when I leave. Give me one year, and I'll give you 60% of my income."

"Idols make less than successful drug dealers," he laughed haughtily.

"Not all. I think we'll end up making a lot of profit," I smiled. "I debuted with some good members."

"Shotaro, you made a lot of money under me because you had your own subgroup working independently from my gang. But remember," Father sighed, "you still worked under me. That's why you made good money. You're thinkin the entire world is like that."

"No, I'm thinking my group is good."

"How good?"

"1 billion won good," I smiled.

After a minute of silence, Father laughed hard.

"Shotaro, you've never said something so stupid in your life," he said as he leaned back in his chair. "This is why I didn't want your real name to be Japanese, those fuckers. You turn just as stupid as them."*

*a/n: just wanted to say this stems from the hatred of japanese and koreans after decades of hostility...this is not how i actually think!! just for the plot. I'm purposely trying to make the dad rlly unlikeable haha

"I'll make 1 billion won in a year, and I'll give you 60% of it."

He raised his eyebrow.

"You're being stubborn right now."

"I am," I agreed. "But you won't settle otherwise."

He did his signature four taps on his desk. It meant he was finalizing his thoughts.

"...Fine, then come here."

I walked closer to his desk and handed out my palm.

Father took out the cigar from his mouth and placed the burnt end on my skin. It sizzled out and left a circular mark.

"It's sealed," he smirked.

I put my hands behind me and nodded.

"Then I'll be leaving now."

"Take care of the buggers outside before you go," he rasped.

I nodded my head again and left the room of the luxury club. It was a place where many with money went for illegal drugs. It was a place my Father had a large influence over because of those said drugs.

I passed by some workers as I went out the backdoor. Then I rounded the building back to the front where some people were bothering the manager.

"Let us in, I swear-"

His words were cut short when I jabbed him in the jaw with an elbow. I hit him hard enough to fall unconscious.

I dealt with the two others neatly and sat them down on the sidewalk.

"Oh, thank you as always, Mr. Rabbit," the manager smiled.

I bowed slightly and walked away.

It was time for me to stop being Mr. Rabbit.