No Going Back

1

In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.
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The Art of War
Sun Tzu

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Walking into the largest industrial corporation in all of South Korea with two handguns in his pockets probably wasn't the smartest idea Kim Taehyung ever had. 

Usually, Taehyung liked to pride himself on being a street-smart type of guy. He learned the hard way how carelessness got one into trouble, so he always took extra precautions when doing something considerably risky. But today, walking through the lobby of Korean National Oil Corp. with loaded weaponry, he wasn't the most cautious.

Truthfully, he didn't exactly have the time to think or plan ahead. His journey here had been rushed and completely last minute. But he couldn't afford to think about the circumstances that brought him here.

Not now.

As he made his way towards the elevators, Taehyung let his arms hang limply by his sides. The jacket he wore didn't have the deepest of pockets, so the grips of his Glock 19 and Sig Sauer P226 handguns were slightly sticking out. As long as people didn't look too closely at him, he'd most likely make it to his destination without any trouble.

But until he got there, he had to be careful. After traveling for days on end, he didn't want to risk being mistaken as an active shooter when he was so close to the man he came here to see: Min Yoongi, Chief of Security to this global corporation.

That name was his only motivation over the last several days. It was a name he learned of quite recently, a name to keep in his back pocket in case he ever needed help.

And while Taehyung absolutely detested asking for help and appearing weak, he knew he had no other choice. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and fuck was he desperate.

Taehyung pressed the up button in the elevator bank, staring at his reflection in the golden doors as he waited. The person peering back at him wasn't recognizable. No, that man looked so unfamiliar to Taehyung that he almost had to do a double-take.

His previously warm and vibrant eyes were now hollow and lackluster, cushioned by heavy, dark bags. The perpetual smile that always tugged at his lips now flattened into a tight frown. And his hair, once glossy and bouncy, hung messily over his forehead, the strands matted and dull.

In short, he looked like shit.

If he was honest, he felt like shit, too. He supposed anyone would if they'd been in his position.

Needing to pull himself together, Taehyung attempted to arrange his hair as neatly as possible before focusing on his wrinkled clothing. There wasn't much he could do about the state of his pants and jacket; he'd have to put on an overly confident act to keep others' eyes off his disheveled appearance.

He practiced smiling at his reflection, though the gesture didn't reach his eyes at all. Instead of the amicable and charming look he was going for, he appeared robotic and slightly psychopathic.

Great.

Breathing deeply, Taehyung plunged his hands into his jacket pockets, fingers grazing over the smooth coolness he found there. The combined danger and security of these tools gave him an odd sense of comfort. Once, he would've been terrified of merely seeing a gun. But now, after years of training with the best of the best, these specific pieces of weaponry didn't fluster him. Plus, he'd gotten to know these particular guns quite well over the last couple of days.

When no one else was there for him - when no one else could be relied upon - he had these tools and his skill alone to protect himself. Really, that's all he needed.