Mission 12

1. Deadline

Click. Click.

Typing for the past few hours, your fingers feel as though they will bleed. Not the first time. And definitely not the worst. Yet, complaining brings comfort. Typing away, you try your best to gather as much sensitive information as possible.

Because your life depended on it.

In this dimly lit room, you spent most of your time working. Usually behind a screen, typing away for majority of the time when you were home.

You pause from the storm in which your fingers were busy, to take a short breather. You don't take many of those, especially because you can't afford it. But yet, you challenge yourself to stop, just for a minute.

Life was a game of survival, and you still had harder levels left incomplete.

You take this chance to glance around the tiny room, the place where you practically live in. Plainly furnished with a small bed, a table and a chair. You never dared to bring much of your belongings into the room, as uncertainty of life stopped you from doing so. At any moment, You may have to flee to save your life and bringing personal belongings would only get you killed.

Signs of abuse and damage on the cream colored walls. Broken, but still holding together, like that of a toxic relationship. Dents and imperfection. Paint chipping away. Sound of a leaking pipe. Nothing but a small table lamp to shed light into the room. Home, sweet, home.

Your eyes scan all around, as if trying to memorize the sight. As if you may never be able to see this place again. Or at least for a long time.

You shake your thoughts away and start working again, to complete the assignment that was given to you.

You type.

Name : Kim Junho.

Age : 26.

Organization : 00X.

Work : Drug Cartel Leader.

Personal weakness : Has wife and 4 year old son.

Address. Phone number. Last seen location. Connections. Every detail one could ever find on a stranger they have never seen or heard of before.

You save the document and select 'print', to put it in the thin, brown binder.

The grinding sound in the back slowly fades away from your attention as you focus on the black and white photograph in front of you. Clipped on the folder, glossy from the recent photo wash.

The man in the photo, scurrying away into an alley in the middle of the night. In a long, dark coat, holding a briefcase. The photo is as fresh as your memory of two nights ago when you traveled to an entirely different city to track the man down. Taking his picture was the easy part. Finding him was not.

You shift your focus away from studying the photo to the beeping sound from the printer, calling for your attention. You gently align the papers in order to attach the printed documents in the folder.

"Frick, where did I put all the paperclips?"

You open the bottom drawer of your desk, hoping to find the box of paperclips that you could have sworn you placed there.

Knock Knock

You look up and twist your head to see Ki-Woo standing behind, head slightly tilted. Black bangs cover one eye. The other stares at you in curiosity. "What are you looking for?"

You softly shake your head. "Nothing important. What's up?"

He walks toward you, eyes roaming around the room. "You really should fix this place. It looks like someone died in here."

"What do you want, Ki-Woo?" You deadpan. You didn't have time to deal with his bullshit. Not today.

He smirks. "Ah, a new assignment. Boss is quite pleased at the rate you're digging up dirt on these people."

You hand him the folder, documents tucked inside due to the lack of paperclips. "Here's the last one you gave me. How many more till I can get the fuck out of here?"

He chuckles as if you cracked a joke. "Not in the near future. You have a huge debt to pay. Speaking of which, here's your next assignment."

You roll your eyes before snatching the bunch of papers, almost crumpling them. "Mission 12, how exciting."

"You should be." He looks at you, still smirking. Makes you want to wipe it off in a very violent manner. "This mission is a little different than the others you've been assigned so far."

You look at him skeptically for a few more seconds before quickly rustling through the papers. Who did you have to stalk this time? Who did you have to track down, dig up dirt and take a photo of?

"You don't have to find information for this one," Ki-Woo says, as if reading your mind.

You stare at him in confusion. "What do you mean? That's my job. To get the information. How are you guys going to do your work without it?"

Ki-Woo shakes his head. "Not this time. Boss thought you might need an upgrade, since you've been working so hard for the past two years."

You look down at the papers to see ink sprawled in the form of words on the sheet of white. Even a photograph that you don't pay attention to.

Name. Age. Address. Everything I should have searched for. Already found and printed.

You look back up. "Ki-Woo. Cut the crap. Tell me what my mission is."

He snickers. Half in amusement. Half in pity. His body vibrates when he does. Picking at his piercing, right above his upper lip with his thumb, you take this chance to look over at his arm. Covered in tattoos. All in black ink and none in color. Each one, a reminder of who he was. And what he had done. So young. Yet, so many burdens. The past, attached to his body as a reminder of his actions. A constant reminder of every phase of his life.

Tattoos sprawled across both arms. A sight you've been used to, yet always felt the need to look at.

"Y/N. Congratulations on your new assignment. Only reserved for those of higher ranks."

You flicker your eyes back up to his face and wait for him to finish. Palms slightly sweaty, bleeding through the papers in your hands.

This can't be good. What can they possibly assign me to do?

"Y/N."

You wait. Wait for him to finish. Wait in anticipation.

"The man in the documents? You have to kill him."

You look at Ki-Woo like a deer caught in headlights. Jaw drops. Eyes feel like they're about to pop out of your sockets. You even feel lightheaded.

Kill him? Kill? Is Ki-Woo high? I have to kill someone?? He's kidding, right?

You glance down at the papers, now soaked in sweat. Some of the words smudged from the moisture produced from a combination of both fear and perspiration.

Squinting your eyes, mouth still wide open in shock, refusing to shut. You read the name inked in bold, black letters.

Name : Jeon Jungkook.

.

Unedited

Author's note : Hey there! If you've read this far, thanks so much! I hope you stick around. It's a new book, but I plan to update every week.

-ruinsfiredyet