Entrance || Lee Know ✓

🔍:02

~🪀~

~After 1 year~

Dressed in simple black jeans, black T-shirt and a black leather jacket.

Tonight, she had a simple task: deliver a package for Kakta. He had insisted she handle it herself, which was unusual. Usually, he preferred to keep her close and out of harm's way. But perhaps he thought she was capable enough to manage this on her own.

She arrived at the designated corner, a dimly lit area beneath a flickering streetlamp. As she waited, she could feel the weight of the package in her bag. It was small, wrapped tightly in plain brown paper, but she knew better than to underestimate its importance.

After a few minutes of watching the shadows shift around her, a figure emerged from the darkness. The man approached with a swagger, a smirk playing on his lips. He was in his late twenties, with an air of confidence that suggested he was no stranger to this world.

"Hey there," he greeted, leaning against the lamppost, his eyes raking over her. "You must be the pretty delivery girl everyone's been talking about."

Dahye rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "You're late. I don't have time for games," she replied, her voice steady and low, emphasizing the coldness that had become her signature.

He chuckled, clearly amused by her demeanor. "Relax, I'm just making an observation. You really are a looker. I didn't expect Kakta to send someone like you."

With a practiced move, she pulled the package from her bag, holding it out to him. "Just take it. I need to get back."

The man reached for the package, but instead of taking it right away, he dangled a wad of cash teasingly in front of her, clearly enjoying his power play. "How about a little deal? You hand over the package, and I'll give you a little extra for being so cute."

Dahye raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "I'm not interested in your petty flattery or whatever 'extra' you think you're offering. Hand over the money, and I'll hand over the package. Simple."

He grinned, clearly not expecting her to be so straightforward. "Come on, how about you reach for it?" He dangled the cash just out of her reach, laughing as she narrowed her eyes.

With a quick movement, she stepped forward, her long legs closing the gap between them. She reached up and snatched the money from his hand, her fingers brushing against his. "Next time, make sure you don't waste my time. Kakta won't be happy if I have to explain why I was delayed."

The man looked taken aback, momentarily stunned by her boldness. But as she turned away, she could feel his gaze lingering on her. "You're not like the others," he called after her, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I'll remember you."

Dahye shot him a glance over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. "You'd be wise to forget about me. I'm not someone you want to mess with."

As she walked away, she felt a sense of satisfaction. This was the life she had chosen—a life where she could stand her ground, where she was no longer a victim. And while the streets were rough, they had taught her how to be tough.

~⌛~

Later that evening, Dahye returned to Kakta's rundown office, a place that had become both a sanctuary and a cage over the past year. She pushed the door open, the familiar scent of stale cigarettes and cheap cologne hitting her like a wave. Kakta was leaning against his desk, scrolling through his phone with a casual air, his mid-thirties face marked with stubble and an easy smile that barely reached his eyes.

"Back already?" he said, looking up. "How'd it go?"

She tossed the package onto his desk, crossing her arms. "It went fine. But I need to talk to you."

Kakta raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his features. "Is that so? You're usually not one to complain. What's on your mind?"

"Payment," she said flatly, her gaze unwavering. "I haven't seen a dime in months. You promised me I'd get paid for my work, and I'm still waiting."

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, his expression shifting slightly. "Dahye, you know how it is. Business has been slow, and I'm working on it. I'll get you your money next week."

"Next week?" She stepped closer, her tone growing sharper. "How many times have I heard that? I'm tired of waiting for scraps. I need that money now."

Kakta met her gaze, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with something more serious. "You know it's not that easy. I'm doing what I can. I keep you around for a reason, don't I?"

Dahye frowned, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "I don't want to be your pretty little pet who's only here for eye candy. I work hard, and I deserve to be compensated fairly. You're keeping me in the dark while I risk everything out there."

He ran a hand through his hair, a weary sigh escaping his lips. "I'm tired of your attitude, Dahye. You know you're the only one I can trust with these deliveries. Everyone else is too scared to even look at me. You've got guts, and I respect that. But respect goes both ways."

"Just remember who you're dealing with," she said quietly, softening her tone. "I won't let you walk all over me."

Kakta studied her for a moment, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he nodded slowly, a hint of a smile breaking through the tension. "You're a tough one, Dahye. I like that. I'll get you your payment. Just give me a little more time, alright?"

She turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back at him. "Just don't forget who you're dealing with, either. I'm not some girl you can brush aside."

Kakta chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought of you that way. You're more than just a pretty face to me, kid."