Everybody Wants to Rule the World

17

Trigger Warning(s): gun violence, minor character death(s), murder, suicidal thoughts, psychotic break (PTSD-induced). this is a heavy chapter for potential triggers.

The Beginning of the End by Klergy and Valerie Broussard

~ Jimin's Point of View ~

20:31, SUNDAY, MAY 9, 2021 (7 YEARS EARLIER). BUSAN, SOUTH KOREA.

I went to Busan in search of the Jade Phoenix that Abigor had mentioned. I packed my essentials, booked a flight, and within the day, I had landed in an entirely foreign country. It would have been a culture shock, but nothing really shocked me anymore – thanks, military training.

To relate it to something you might understand, Kira, it was like how Doctor Strange searches for Kamar-Taj. I was asking around – anybody that looked suspicious, I figured they might know of the Jade Phoenix. I looked for three days, nonstop, no rest, barely any food or water, and I never found even a hint of her existence.

God, why did I ever believe that dude... a guy in a bar? He could've very well been crazy.

So stupid. Always stupid.

I ended up where I always ended up – in a bar, sipping miserably on a beer. But just when I was about to signal to the bartender that I was ready for a second drink, I felt someone haul me out of my seat. The alcohol in my system made my brain lag for several moments, preventing me from processing what was happening.

"Hey, what?" I spluttered, but they had a tight grip on the back of my hoodie that persisted until we exited the bar through a back door, where they unceremoniously tossed me to the ground. I landed in a puddle of dirty rainwater that splattered in my mouth and made me gag. Then, I looked up at them, saw the menacing smiles on their faces, the uniform black clothing they wore, and my mind jumped to a single conclusion.

The Jade Phoenix must have sent them. She knew I was looking for her.

"You had to be suckers for theatrics," I remarked sourly, pushing myself to my feet and wringing out my hoodie as best I could. "Well? You wanna tell me where she is?"

One of them smiled even wider and said in heavily-accented English, "Only if you provide compensation."

I ground my teeth but eventually drew my wallet out of my back pocket. Their eyes instantly fell to the leather cover, and they watched unwaveringly as I counted out $100. "There... it's in American dollars, but you can use an ATM, or something. It'll be, like, 120,000 won."

"More."

"120,000 won isn't good enough for you guys? This better be some operation."

"She demands more."

"How much more?" He simply tilted his head, his smile growing. "Fine, fine. Geez. And y'all claim not to hate foreigners."

"You look Korean."

"That's because I am Korean. Never lived in Korea, though. There – 200 more dollars. You should be thanking your lucky stars I'm feeling generous."

"More."

That was when I really began to notice the implications behind the man's smirk. I should have noticed before, really – my military instructors would have counted on it being the first thing I noticed. But I was so excited at the prospect of finally getting rid of all this mess inside my head, finally being able to sleep a full night without suffering a PTSD-fueled nightmare. It was all for nothing. They had $300, and I had nothing.