Right One

𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

A/n pov

A wrinkled man with sagged skin, most probably in his late fifties or something, sat on the couch, lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowed making his scars filled face look more scary, gritting his teeth as he looked at the middle aged man in front of him in disappointment.

His mind was short circuited, he couldn't understand what's happening.

One moment, sitting in front of the pool, he was enjoying with four foreign young, almost teenager, girls surrounding him, entertaining him, while he waited for his men to come back from the hunt, and the next moment his phone buzzed with tons of messages and calls, irritating him. The moment he unlocked it, he got the biggest shocks of his life.

There it was.

His men, who went for the hunt, aren't coming back. Ever. How?

All the men are dead. Killed.

Every month, he sends his men to get healthy grown up people from the nearby villages or cities that are too afraid of him. Of Bloodlust. And when they comes back with the preys, he and his nephew, plays with them, tortures them, makes them bleed, cry, beg for death, and then does their funeral after informing the dead people's family.

It had been a ritual almost.

And today, his men had gone to do the same thing. Hunt preys to satisfy their Bloodlust. But the only difference was, they were found dead. Killed, and all of them are taken down when they were on their way back, the preys, kidnapped people, freed.

As if that wasn't enough, he got another call the next moment.

It was from his client.

He picked it up but before he could speak— "What do you think you're doing Mr. Park?" A hoarse voice spoke from other line.

"what happened, Mr. Sam?" Mr. Park, as in Hyun-sik, was confused. Why does Sam seems angry?

He didn't liked it.

The way Sam was talking, he didn't liked that. Sam was from Europe. He was born in America but brought up in Europe. He was the biggest client. People are desperate to sign deals with him because he owns almost the illegal business in there, hiding them beneath his a successful business facade.

It was their second shipment. The first one went just fine. The man paid a real big amount for human trafficking, and the second shipment was supposed to happen today.

So why does he seems angry?

"Why did you burned all the trucks?" Now Hyun-sik was more confused.

"What do you m—"

"Done play coy with me Park! It won't end well! I'm not doing any deal with you anymore." And the call ended just like that. But before he could process anything, one of his men, who was supposed to call him after the trucks successfully crossed the border.

He hurriedly picked up the call, "What the fuck just happened? Why—"

"B-boss, sorry! We don't know anything! Suddenly some people came out of nowhere and outnumbered us, injected something in us and when we all woke up just now, the trucks are now in ashes!" Seething in rahe and still recovering from the shock, Hyun-sik fumed. But before he could speak further, his man interrupted, "I'm leaving! I quit. I'm not working for you anymore. Non of us are." And the call ended. For the second time that day.

Fuck these rules.

Hyun-sik thought. Because, apparently, there was a rule his ancestors believed in, if someone leaves your group, then let them. After they quit, you both parties have no business with eachother. No enmity.