• Mastermind • | NamJin || BOOK 3#

Thirty. Family complete

"About to sweat blood for Mad King?"

"I don't want to talk about it." admits Seokjin, rubbing his brow and sipping a glass of whiskey. Namjoon pours one for himself, taking a seat on the same couch. He analyzes Seokjin, watching for what moves, which place is more accessible and not suspicious if he has any intervention...

"You should. Considering this could affect both of us. All of Korea, rather, if the madman decides to burn us both to the tiniest ashes." comments Namjoon mockingly, taking a sip of his drink.

Seokjin's arm, rolling up his shirt sleeves a lot.

"What do you want to know or what does it really matter?" claims Seokjin. "That demented fucker is out there creating chaos, Hoseok also made an appearance, I don't doubt the thief might be too; there's more drug everywhere and if I don't do something soon, they're all going to try to cut my head off." exposing his concerns is oddly refreshing. More so than he imagined.

The reality, is that he has never had a confidant to experience this kind of feeling. He doesn't want to turn to his mother, she wanted to be the only one who would listen to him. She would also judge him and he doesn't want that. After all... she still holds a grudge against him.

He made her a widow overnight and she had no choice but to not accuse him.

"You know it's not as simple as: oh, I'm the boss. Not being grabbed by the neck by the State-"

"How sexy."

"You can't do shit without their permission and you have to keep them happy no matter what," Seokjin concludes, not wanting to pay extra attention to Namjoon's libidinous and silly comments. "They want the fucking Altered and I don't have them!"

"How hard can it be to make an Altered? Yeah you guys stole my job." comments Namjoon with a strained, shear smile.

"And we haven't been able to make it work for years!" notifies Seokjin with disinterest, finishing the glass of whiskey. "Brought down to reality It doesn't work! Nobody takes that shit. They all pop like balloons. Like a cheap horror movie." Seokjin plops down a bit on the couch and Namjoon muses a bit.

So Seokjin also has pressure from the government. He thought he had more freedom. That doesn't seem to be the case. A total plus in his favor. He sits closer, leaning towards him and offering him his almost full glass.

"You don't have to make them, you have to catch them Don't you?" Seokjin looks at him irritably. "It's a hundred times easier to do that."

"I wish, anything concerning them," He snatches the glass from his hand, "were easy." He takes a single gulp. Brusque, grumpy and Namjoon laughs, leaning back, crossing his leg.

"Then hurry up and make them. I don't think anyone will think to do the same. You know how soldiers are...the ones who want to make Korea great again." Seokjin twitches his jaw, drinking in and abruptly pulling his hand away when Namjoon grabs him by the wrist.

Namjoon smiles in satisfaction, swaying a bit in place - Seokjin with a couple of marks on his arm and having constant head shakes.

┈ ⋞ 〈 ✷ 〉 ⋟ ┈

As he enters the hideout he can only give a discreet, exhausted sigh. Having everyone back from China is life's greatest burden. Hoseok being a ball of unbearable energy, wanting to talk about his obsession: Yoongi; Jimin and Jungkook as stupid lovebirds down every hallway; his other Altered and helpers: the gang of eight men who trade in a specific way, unlike Chaeyoung, Momo, Jihyo and Leeseung.

Finally Jin, who looks at him expectantly, silent, accusatory.

He smiles at her, tilting his head to the side. "Wait until I bathe or do you want me to touch you with dirty hands?"