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Mingi sits down in his office chair, a deep breath filling his lungs. He lifts himself up somewhat. Reaching into his pocket, his fingers wrap around the ring that was on the girl's finger prior to the thieves removing it. It's a pretty ring, a diamond cut, and Mingi notices how it resembles a wedding ring.
Is she married? Mingi hopes not, because then a missing person report will most definitely be filed, and he huffs. Did it use to belong to someone or something that was precious to her? Why did those two men want to make a profit off this ring? Mingi starts to suspect that those two men may know something that he doesn't.
All the possible questions are clouding Mingi's head. Why is he trying to figure out this girl? One that he just met, one that Boss may possibly kill?
His eyebrows raise as he hears the intercom beep over his head. "Song Mingi, please report to the Boss. Repeat, Song Mingi, please report to the Boss."
"Here goes nothing." Mingi mumbles.
Mingi flings his thumb upwards, causing the ring to fly in the air. He quickly catches it in his palm and he shoves it back into his pocket. Shoving his other hand in his free pocket, he feels his hand clench into a fist by his side.
He passes many of workers on the way to the Boss's office, and they all bend down to show their respect for him. Mingi ignores them as he comes to a stop in front of the door that he's grown all too wary of.
'Kim HJ.' Mingi swallows and sighs deeply before knocking on the cherry wooden door.
"Come in."
An average male voice, slightly high-pitched, commands on the other side of the door. Although the wood is thick, his voice is menacing enough for Mingi to hear. He opens the door, closing it right behind him. He turns around, his eyes taking in the office that he's been in one too many times.
It's an overall nice office: spacious, warm, yet dark as the only source of light is a large window that gives a beautiful view of the city. Rain pours down outside. A wooden desk is sitting in the middle of the office, with a luxurious leather desk. And in that chair sits Boss Kim Hongjoong, the man who saved Mingi's life, pure anger in his eyes. Mingi clears his throat as they make eye contact.
"You called, Boss?"
"Mingi," Hongjoong draws out the name. He chuckles, his fingertips tapping against the top of his desk, "why?"
Mingi doesn't try to act like he doesn't know what his boss is speaking of, "I was patrolling, and I saw her. She was fighting some thugs and she got knocked out. I went to see what was going on—" Mingi looks down and grabs the ring out of his pocket, "—and they were trying to take this ring off her finger. I think—"
"I don't give a damn what you think," Hongjoong cuts him off, dismissing the ring with a wave of his hand. "Nor do I care about some ring. I want to know why you would bring a female, not a Korean one at that, an African-American one, here."
