"People hating me doesn't faze me. People loving me...that would be concerning."
A group of criminals with supernatural powers are getting ready for the biggest heist of their lives, but for it to work they need Kimhan the Executioner.
However, it'...
— you are always just one small step away from a completely different life —
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Black painted nails were in steady rhythm tapping on a pizza box in Kim's hands. Humming quietly to himself, his dark eyes were patiently waiting for the door in front of him to open.
The last time he did something like this, no longer after that, he met Chay. Now, Chay stood right next to him, leaning on the wall beside the door so he wouldn't be seen the moment Marc would open the door. It was different to have Chay with him on a mission like this. Their previous missions were assigned to them by Porsche, and violence was not exactly expected in that, but this was the complete opposite. Violence was the main reason they were there—murder was the main goal.
Kim was always doing things like this alone and even though, this time they were doing it for Chay's brother, it still felt that it wasn't Kim who was helping Chay, but Chay who was helping Kim. After all, it was Kim who brought up the idea first. Of course, Chay wanted to kill the man who shot his brother as well, Kim didn't have any doubt about it, but unlike Kim, Chay knew how to control his urges for violence and destruction. Kim... he was learning how to do that with Chay's help, but it was a slow process and after he had found out that he had a family—family that actually wanted him, something in him took a turn all the way back, making him feel like all the process he had made was lost. He just had to kill. It was boiling in him for way too long, way too violently, but he didn't want to take it out on someone who didn't deserve it. Marc deserved it.
Chay rang the bell again, and when he heard a commotion inside of the apartment, he nodded at Kim. The fun could begin.
Kim wore a baseball cap, with the logo of the pizza company, low enough to hide his face, and blue hair carefully in a man bun, hidden underneath in case somehow Marc knew exactly how Kim looked.
When the door opened, Marc looked surprised. He frowned at the pizza box and then up at Kim, "I didn't order a pizza."
"And Porsche didn't order a bullet in his stomach," Kim shrugged and threw the pizza box away.
Just then, Chay stepped in between them and looked right into Marc's eyes, "don't even try to use your power! Now turn around and go to the kitchen!"
Marc did, and Kim found himself once again admiring Chay's power as if he was witnessing it for the first time over again. He would never stop admiring it. He would never stop admiring his Chay no matter what.
Smirking, he locked the door behind them, and casually, taking his sweet time, he followed them to the kitchen. The kitchen was the most useful part of someone's house if they didn't have a torture room, to hold someone in against their will—a lot of useful things were there... knives... boiling water...
"Sit," Chay ordered and leaned on the kitchen counter, hands crossed on his chest.
"So, I heard you don't like me," Kim said and started searching for a knife that would fit what he was about to do. Of course, he had his own knives with him, but wouldn't it be more poetic to kill Marc with his own knife? Kim thought it would.
