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Chapter Text

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Two-Hundred Thousand.

The number of years humans have inhabited earth on record, an educated guess on the existence of mankind. They've spent even less time ruling over Earth, building, dictating, creating a world where they have all the power. Both the planet and the wildlife being second rate compared to them.

For decades, this is the circle of life, the way the world works and everyone was accustomed to how everything was managed.

Except for Kim Namjoon, the second eldest of the Kim family, and the pinnacle of intellectual genius. Namjoon has always seen the world through an unique lens compared to the rest of the world.

Growing up, Namjoon was the textbook nerd, reading over playing, calculating over crying. Studying over sleeping. His self awareness shifted the family dynamic, having been able to read his parents to a T.

Namjoon was twelve years old when he put together that he and his brothers, Taehyung and Seokjin, were adopted for the sole reason of public image.

His father was vying for presidency, and his mother was making history as the first VP and first lady simultaneously. It was to no one's surprise that a guise of a perfect family would boost their campaigns.

Thus came the three prodigal sons of the Kim family. Researching his own family, Namjoon figured out he and his brothers weren't randomly selected, no that would be foolish, his parents knew what they were doing.

They knew his intelligence was far above any average child, they knew his younger brother could swoon a nation with his singing, and they knew his older brother was the pinnacle of physical perfection. It isn't every day a living person can match Korean beauty standards to an almost surgical degree.

They all did their part, Namjoon ran the most prestigious academy in east Asia, filled to the brim with his customized educational system and algorithm that produced the world's finest doctors, scientists, professors, mathematicians, etc.

His youngest brother, the heartthrob Kim Taehyung that went by V when he took over a stage, had a global music career, the silk baritone of his voice had the world in a chokehold and his charming personality had the media melting.

His eldest brother, a world class supermodel who had touched every magazine and billboard in the country. If you were to search up things that could cause jealously, Kim Seokjin would be the first thing listed. Face and body sculpted to what the media deemed as the peak of humanity, and paired with an animated personality in public, he was perfect.

Namjoon knew the truth though, and he's known it since he was young. That he and his brothers are nothing but distractions, trophy children. Role models that could influence any part of the world.

The media could hardly focus on questioning the president and his wife when their perfect children painted them in such a blinding light. Nobody would ever question them.

Nobody questioned when political rivals vanished because V's new album debuted.

Nobody questioned when public school's funding was pulled for factories because Namjoon had just introduced a new healthcare policy in his academy.

And surely, nobody questioned the young girls or men the president and his wife were always seen with because surely they're just friends of the ethereal Kim Seokjin. After all, every time a picture was snapped, there was already a cover coming out with them and Seokjin on it.

The country was obsessed with them, Namjoon had seen enough fan pages, websites, fanfiction, and thirst tweets to know that much. The people so hopelessly devoted to his family. Of course they didn't protest when his father pushed for the right to rule endlessly so long as he won the elections.

Nobody protested. The Kim Family has been the pinnacle of South Korea for well over fifteen years. Connections everywhere, friends everywhere, contracts and deals out the ass. It was power, pure power and control.

They were gods. They were unstoppable and nobody was better, more known, more powerful, or more important.

Until the sixteenth election came around and it struck the heart of the Kim family; Seoul.

✰✰✰✰✰

"This is the third body this month."

The stress in the voice of Namjoon's father was evident, but he couldn't bring himself to sympathize. After all, the man was only concerned because it was happening in the middle of his election.

The Kim family were having their usual family meeting in the president's office, though, this was the fifth one they've had in one month.

"What have you boys been doing to soothe this?" His mother chimed in, a pleading look of expectation in her eyes as if she was looking at employees and not her children.

A sigh caught his attention, and Namjoon looked over at his older brother besides him, who looked incredibly exhausted. He couldn't blame him, the sons of the President had an inhumane work load.

"What would you like us to do?" Seokjin asked at last. "We aren't detectives."

Their father scoffed, "That I'm painfully aware of. You're even more useless than they are in this situation."

"I'm writing a new song!" Taehyung, the youngest who sat to Namjoon's left, piped up cheerfully. "I think they'll love it."

Namjoon didn't miss the way his parent's eyes softened and he knew Seokjin didn't either. Their bias was showing, acting as if a new single would distract people from the murders in the city they lived in.

"That's amazing baby," His mother said, eyeing Taehyung with a smile before leveling Namjoon with a hardened frown.

"And you?"

Namjoon was wearing his best poker face, the one he had been honing since childhood and he reveled in how frustrated it made his parents. Like he didn't care.

Namjoon cracked his neck before speaking. "I put out a curfew on campus, keeps the kids inside instead of being vulnerable on the streets."

The slightly grey brow on his father's face twitched, "That's it!?"

Namjoon raised a brow, "Should I not protect the kids?"

Taehyung snickered and the slam of their father's fist hitting the desk made him jump with a squeak.

"You should be protecting me!" He screamed, cold glare holding on Namjoon.

"Father," Seokjin interrupted. "This isn't our lane, we manage public image not homicide."

It was their mother's turn to chime in, "If the police look bad then the government looks bad, and if the government looks bad-" She paused. "Anyone know who else looks bad?"

Silence followed before Taehyung raised his hand, "Ooh Ooh I know! We do."

"Exactly."

Namjoon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "So, what now, we're working with the police to find a serial killer?"

A cold gleam flashed in his father's eyes.

"What a great idea! you can add police work to your resume, lord knows it needs something besides helping those heathens."

Namjoon decided not to bring up his mile long list of degrees.

"This is ridiculous! nothing like this has ever ruined an election before." Seokjin said through clenched teeth, clearly not looking forward to adding this to the work load. In situations like this, he was far from the comedian the media painted him as in interviews. Namjoon couldn't blame him for that either. the only one of them that happened to be genuine camera or not was Taehyung. Ignorance is bliss.

"That was before Jeon Somin became my latest obstacle." Their father shot back, "I don't know how that bitch is doing it, but her support is unfathomable."

"Then why is she still alive?" Namjoon asks and nobody in the room bats an eye at the dark context of the question. They've all been in this cycle for too long to still be trying to hang onto any moral high ground. The one difference being his younger brother had practically been brainwashed, their parents were his heroes.

His father's eyes flick to him. "She already has been spinning a story about how the current government has something to do with it, not to mention the claims of incompetence. Her death would be too obvious, even for us."

"So the only way to fix this is if we find this killer." Seokjin said with a sigh.

"We get rid of the problem and the family gets to personally reap the rewards of catching a serial killer." Namjoon added, as much as he loathed his father, if his plan worked the pay off would surely snag him yet another presidency.

His father simply nodded, "Glad you two still know how to comprehend, now get out my office and get to work. No woman is taking this presidency from me."

Their mother didn't even blink at the comment.

✰✰✰✰✰

The ride to the police station was relatively quiet, excluding Taehyung singing his new song, not a care in the world. He could never fool Namjoon however, despite being their favorite, Namjoon knew of the pressure and expectations they placed on Taehyung. Staying so bubbly was probably a coping mechanism. Namjoon had studied the human mind long enough to deduce that. He only wished his own problems were that simple.

Seokjin hadn't said a word after they left the office, and Namjoon usually found it difficult to decipher who exactly Seokjin spent his days hating. Just their parents or was Namjoon and Taehyung also included in that.

Namjoon spent the better half of the car going over plans that could fix this issue quickly. As much as he'd rather not deal with a serial killer, there involvement would close the case faster. After all, there isn't much anyone can do without the Kim family knowing about it.

When they finally arrived, the three brothers all exited the car, bidding their driver farewell before heading inside the Seoul police station.

There was already an officer awaiting them, flaming orange hair sticking out like a sore thumb among the busy bodies of the station. He wore the typical uniform, and had an ear to ear smile on his face. Namjoon could already tell how naive and innocent this man was.

"We're here to see the chief," Seokjin spoke, leaning forward to see the man's badge, "Officer Jung."

Officer Jung did a terrible job at concealing the heat on his cheeks, a common reaction whenever in the proximity of Kim Seokjin.

"Y-Yes, he said you'd be coming," The officer stammered, "And please, Hoseok is fine." He smiled at the three of them bashfully.

Seokjin simply nodded at Hoseok and he led us to the chief's office, who was seated at his desk with a dark look on his face. As usual.

Min Yoongi was a man of little words but his eyes spoke a million languages, and social status was not one of them. Namjoon resisted the amusement in his face at the look of annoyance on the man's face when he noticed Hoseok bringing them in.

The brothers all sat before the chief while Hoseok stood by the door, that same smile on his face.

"So, suddenly interested in police work?" Yoongi huffed, arms folded, glaring from behind the strands of muted mint green hair on his head.

"Not by choice." Namjoon answered, eyeing the other with the same poker face he gives his parents, though unlike them, he can't tell if it bothers the other at all.

Seokjin leaned back in the plastic chair, crossing one leg over the other. "We want this over with just as much as you do, we need to see all the evidence you have gathered thus far."

Yoongi was silent for a while, as if thinking, clearly reluctant. Though, he knew more than them that he didn't have any choice in the matter, if the President wanted something to be done a certain way then it was final.

"We just want to help keep people safe, don't you?" Taehyung finally spoke, headphones hanging around his neck.

"You mean keep your father safe," Yoongi sneered.

"You would know more about that than we would," Namjoon shot back, noting the way Yoongi's brow creased at the accusation.

The tension in the room was thick before the phone suddenly rang. Yoongi answered swiftly, the look on his face somehow getting darker at what he was hearing before he mumbled something about being on his way and slammed the phone down on the receiver.

"You won't be seeing any evidence here in the station right now." Yoongi stated as he rose to his feet.

Seokjin's irritation flared, "The sound of gunshots must have messed with your hearing because we just told you that-"

"Because you can see some live," Yoongi finished, cutting off Seokjin's complaining.

"And that meanssss" Taehyung spoke, dragging out the word, getting side eyes from everyone.

"Another body was called in." Yoongi explained, "So, you can come and look for evidence yourselves. We leave in five."

With that, he grabbed his coat and left the room, Hoseok, who Namjoon had forgot was even there, trailing behind him.

Namjoon let out a sigh, it was time to see his first crime scene.

✰✰✰✰✰

The place they arrived to wasn't what Namjoon had been expecting. He was predicting an alleyway, or abandoned house, somewhere easy to dispose of a freshly murdered body.

What they arrived at instead was an orphanage down town, one that his mother opened to aid their image.

As they all walked past the ambulances, police tape, and traumatized children, Namjoon wondered how someone could possibly pull of a murder in such a constantly populated place.

The inside of the orphanage was terribly morbid, yet Namjoon had a faint feeling of familiarity being inside. Probably due to his own faded memories of being in an orphanage before his eventual adoption.

"Body's in the kitchen, one of the caretakers was cooking lunch when it happened." Yoongi informed them, heading towards the ajar door down the main corridor of the building.

Hoseok seemed to hesitate which didn't go unnoticed by Namjoon, he assumed the officer wasn't very comfortable with dead bodies.

A strange flaw for a cop.

When Yoongi finally opened the door to let them in, the metallic scent of blood hit them first. Taehyung cringed, his nose wrinkling as he stood behind Seokjin.

The woman, presumably in her twenties was hunched over the stove, her chest, face, and hands pressed firmly against the top. Namjoon could smell the stench of burnt flesh, if the saggy leathery look of the woman's skin wasn't evidence enough.

Yoongi and Namjoon were the ones to advance for a better look, noting the blood leaking down the woman's face from her eyes and ears, a permanent agonized and horrified expression frozen on her face.

Looking down, Namjoon's eyes raised at the sight of the woman's knees, they were clearly bent and broken, probably the reason she ended up kissing the stove top.

"How could someone possibly do all of this in a populated orphanage?" Namjoon whispered, a feeling of dread filling him at the disturbing sight.

"A psychopath," Yoongi answered drly, "He must have stopped her from screaming somehow."

"How is that possible when shes using a stove as a pillow!" Taehyung exclaimed from the doorway.

"It isn't." Seokjin said before anyone else could respond, "Unless the staff were in on it."

A scoff came from Yoongi."And what movie did you see that in?"

"Do you have a better explanation? We both already know that nobody will say they seen or heard anything. That's impossible unless the people know." Seokjin retorted, gaze tired but firm.

"But Hyung, no way the kids are accomplices." Taehyung said, gaze low at the thought of kids being complicit in murders this brutal.

"The kids could be scared, hostages almost, wouldn't be the first time." Seokjin replied with a dismissive wave.

"Let's leave the detective work to the detectives," Yoongi finally said at last, "You three are here to do nothing but watch so you can report back to the President."

Namjoon raised a brow. "But we can help this go by faster."

"The goal of solving murders is not to get rid of them as fast as possible," Yoongi sneered. "All you three will do is jump to an conclusion so it can be done and over with, this isn't homework, it's seri-"

The door to the kitchen opening and closing interrupted Yoongi's words, Seookjin's footsteps receding before Taehyung eventually trailed after him and Hoseok poked his head in.

"What happened?" Hoseok asked, eyes carefully avoiding the corpse.

"Nothing. Wait outside," Yoongi ordered in a way Namjoon found interesting, like he knew something about Hoseok nobody else did and as the officer vanished back into the hallway, only he and Yoongi remained. 

"Not going with them?" Yoongi asked bluntly, pulling on a pair of gloves as he examined the kitchen for any telltale signs for what happened.

Namjoon shook his head, "I'm here to help, believe it or not."

Yoongi didn't respond and Namjoon took it as a sign that he'd allow him to stick around. To his knowledge, Yoongi has known his parents for years, despite him being in close age to their sons. Granted, they were adopted so Namjoon had no concrete vision of the lives they led before it all.

Even if he had some pretty accurate guesses.

"Strange." Yoongi's voice broke him out of his thoughts and he looked down to see the other crouching in front of the body, staring at her knees that had been brutally snapped inwards.

"What is?" Namjoon asked, noting the way Yoongi's brows knitted together in thought, a slightly frustrated expression on his face.

It was oddly cute.

"There aren't any signs of abuse on her knees," Yoongi answered after a beat. "As if they did it by themselves."

Namjoon raised his brows, his logical brain not finding any sense in what Yoongi was saying.

"Surely there'll be finger prints." Namjoon said at last.

Yoongi shrugged as he stood up, "You and I both know how difficult it'd be to do this with your bare hands, let alone doing it without leaving any bruising or markings."

Namjoon stayed silent, a habit of his when he didn't have a logical explanation of something.

"And then there's this," Yoongi followed up, hovering a gloved finger near the woman's face, pointing at the charred skin and flesh that was scorched by the stove.

"The wound is too deep for her to simply have fallen onto it, even if she did, surely she didn't willingly hold herself down."

"So someone held her down." Namjoon finally spoke again only to be shut down by the other shaking his head.

Yoongi shifted his hands to the back of her head and untouched side of her face, "Relatively fine outside of the grimace of agony etched on her face. If someone were holding my head down onto a stove, I'd be putting up one hell of a fight, which would make my attacker bruise and disturb my skin trying to keep me down."

Namjoon soaked up the information but he didn't know where Yoongi was going with these observations. All he was getting from this was how talented Yoongi seemed to be as his job, Seokjin had always claimed he only became chief because of their parents.

Namjoon would believe him if he wasn't seeing the other pick apart a gruesome crime scene with his own eyes. It was fascinating.

"What are you trying to say?" Namjoon asked at last, hoping he wasn't caught staring. Not like he'd be able to tell with the scowl Yoongi always wore on his face.

"Nothing you'd understand," Yoongi commented with a shake of his head. "Let's go back to the station, let forensics sweep the place."

Namjoon didn't protest and nodded, following him out of the kitchen where Hoseok joined them. Taehyung and Seokjin weren't outside when they stepped out of the orphanage, Namjoon assumed they went about their day and left him to fulfill their parent's task alone.

Like they always did.

✰✰✰✰✰

Namjoon settled back into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs in Yoongi's office once they reached the station again. Yoongi seated at his desk and Hoseok stood at the door like last time, which he found to be odd.

"Hoseok," Yoongi called, and Namjoon watched as the man perked up at being called and walked over with a bright smile on his face.

"I need you to call BamBam in New Orleans," He told him, and both Hoseok and Namjoon mirrored each other's confusion. "I need a case file, he'll know which one when you tell him I ordered it."

Hoseok left after that with a nod, confusion still evident on his face.

"Why New Orleans?" Namjoon asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"You're still here?" Yoongi huffed, not hiding his irritation.

Namjoon only smiled.

"It's none of your business," Yoongi said with a roll of his eyes. "You have more connections than I do, why don't you go use them to catch our perp?"

Namjoon shrugged before his phone vibrated, pulling it from his jacket pocket, he sighed as he saw Taehyung's caller id.

"Yes?"

"Heyy Hyung, sooo Jeon Somin is having a gathering at her penthouse tonight and father wants me to go and watch her."

"This involves me how?" Namjoon said but he already knew what was happening.

"Welll I can't make it! I have a song to record and Jin-Hyung is helping me with the cover art."

"So, I'm the replacement." Namjoon said as a statement rather than a question.

"Pretty pleeaasee! I'll give you some merch, I have the cutest plushies coming out this-"

"That won't be necessary." Namjoon interrupted, "I'll be there."

"You're the bestest! Byeeee"

As the call ended, Namjoon let out a sigh, before realizing he was still in a room with Yoongi and the other was staring at him with that same scowl.

"Alright Alright I'm going," Namjoon said throwing his hands up in surrender. "But I'm still in this investigation, I doubt my father will want to hear that you're refusing to give out info."

Yoongi's glare burned Namjoon's back as he left his office. He knew a threat when he heard one, and he hated being threatened.

Almost as much as he hated the Kim family.

✰✰✰✰✰

Namjoon had never gotten dressed for a party before, he was far too busy studying and writing a thesis about something he saw online or on the news. So he enlisted a close friend of his that worked at the Academy he ran.

The apartment of Jackson Wang was truly something to remember, if not for the LED lighting that made it feel like a club, it was the furniture that looked like it belonged to the raunchiest porn sites. Most notably though, the wall of every type of alcohol, from every type of country, that stood tall and strong in the living room.

The place was practically a sex dungeon that you could live in.

Jackson welcomed Namjoon with open arms and dragged him inside when he had arrived, he was in the middle of a party, as per usual. He had pulled Namjoon into a room where there was only a few other people, excluding the strippers of various identities sauntering through the apartment.

"Zico, Ten, meet the sexiest headmaster you'll ever know." Jackson introduced him to his friends before plopping down onto his bed, smiling as a dancer instantly approached him and straddled him right there.

"Uh, hi," Namjoon waved as he sat on the very edge of a sofa chair in the room, the intention wasn't to be rude, but to avoid standing up with any mysterious stains on his ass.

"Headmaster?" One of Jackson's friends, Ten, inquired, staring at Namjoon with a smirk. Namjoon noted the other's cat eyed look, and the pair of the most suggestive siren eyes he's ever seen. "Does that mean what I think it does?"

Heart rushed to Namjoon's cheeks and he let out a cough at the innuendo.

"Easy tiger," Jackson warned, "He's also the President's son."

The new piece of information didn't seem to deter Ten's expression, and Namjoon felt naked under his gaze.

"Leave him alone Ten," Zico, Jackson's other friend cut in, throwing a pillow that finally broke Ten's gaze when it hit him in the face.

"Sorry about that." Zico followed up, ignoring Ten's complaining as he gave Namjoon a kind smile.

Finally, someone normal.

"Not a problem," Namjoon said after gathering himself, "I came for some help regarding getting ready for a party."

"My kind of party?" Jackson asked, emphasizing his question by smacking the ass of the dancer on his lap, chuckling at the yelp he got.

"Yeah, you seem inexperienced." Ten said, practically gliding across the room until he was in front of Namjoon, crouching in front of him, "I could help with that." He said, his fingers reaching for Namjoon's legs.

"N-NO!" Namjoon exclaimed snapping his legs shut, humiliation filling him at the way the others in the room stared at him after his outburst.

Then they started laughing and Namjoon let out a breath.

"My oh my, Ten outta Ten just got rejected!" Zico teased, making an X with his arms.

"Oh please," Ten said as he turned around, making Namjoon blush as his ass was in his face now. "I could make him jizz those pants if I wanted to." He said crudely, sauntering back over to his seat and sitting down.

"The party is being hosted by Jeon Somin." Namjoon finally got out after a while, he can't remember the last time he had been so flustered. This was very uncharacteristic of him.

Zico arched a brow, "The lady tryna become the next president?"

"Don't you have some conflict of interest there boss man?" Jackson asked, now hovering above the dancer on his bed, running his hands over their body.

Namjoon shook his head, "My father is sending me to-" He paused, reminding himself that none of the people in this room knew what the first family was really like, "See what she has to say." He simplified.

"Makes sense," Zico said, "But this is a weird place to come to for that kind of party."

"Not really," Ten said. "Somin isn't nearly as uptight as other politicians, she was just posting a bikini pic."

"That would explain all the support she's getting," Jackson laughed, still leaving hickeys on the dancer's neck.

"A sexy business casual look will fit right in," Ten smiled, looking at Namjoon and there it was again.

The heat spreading throughout his body when Ten looked at him, it felt almost like a force. It wasn't normal, Namjoon had been hit on by many hot people in his life, Jackson included and he was able to shut them down with ease. Why was this so different?

Zico seemed to notice cause the look he shot Ten made him finally look away.

"Seems like you guys have it all figured it out," Jackson said and Namjoon hadn't even realized the other was shirtless now.

"Go out and get him something, I have things to attend to." He said before his head vanished between the dancer's legs and that was all the incentive Namjoon needed to quickly exit the room.

"You guys go ahead, I'm going to repair my pride," Ten announced when they got into the hallway, shooting Namjoon one last look before leveling Zico with a glare and walking off.

"Ignore him," Zico said, leading Namjoon through the apartment, "Don't indulge and he can't do anything."

Zico led him into another room where a walk in closet filled with clothes was left open. Namjoon stepped inside, wondering where to even start but Zico seemed to glide through the closet, piecing together an outfit and leaving it on the bed before heading to the door to leave the other alone, after telling him that he'd be back after he was dressed to do some finishing touches.

"And Namjoon," Zico called, making the other look to the doorway where he had paused.

"Remember what I said and stay away from Ten."

Namjoon arched a brow, didn't the other only want to have sex? Zico was making it seem like his life was in danger, and Zico seemed to read his thoughts off his face.

"He'll eat you alive."

✰✰✰✰✰

As Namjoon prepared to leave, he looked over himself in the mirror. The outfit Zico gave him was simple enough, a white button up dress shirt that the other had instructed to leave some buttons undone, an assortment of Jackson's jewelry accenting it. Earrings on his ears, flashy watch on his wrist, and a silver necklace that drew attention to his collar bone.

Namjoon had never considered himself to be a gym regular, he just was fortunate enough to have a natural bulk, so he admired how the shirt emphasized the muscles he did have.

The dress pants that went with it were jet black, a little too tight for his liking but he opted to not protest against anyone taking time out of their night to dress him. The shoes had a slight heel to them and matched the dark fabric of the pants, despite his wealth, Namjoon felt expensive in the outfit.

Namjoon hadn't asked for anything but clothes but Zico had taken care of his hair anyway, claiming it was apart of those finishing touches he mentioned, using oils and a hot comb to smooth it over, not touching a few strands to leave swaying in front of his 'dark and mysterious' eyes, as Zico had called them.

He felt a sense of confidence, unlike Ten, Zico had a very kind and endearing gaze. though, it related to Ten's in the way it effected him.

It was as if he had washed his anxiety away with his eyes. Strange. Though, he would assume that people who spent most of their days seducing men and women in clubs would gain a talent for influence.

He still hadn't the slightest clue why Jackson wanted to be a professor. He'd ask him the next time they met.

Deciding he was ready and hadn't disturbed any of Zico's work physically, he went to leave the room he was in. 

Namjoon was painfully reminded just where he was exactly when he opened the door to see his father standing there. Despite their booming careers, the sons of the Kim family couldn't live alone, thus they were stuck at the residency where run ins like this one was very common.

"Going somewhere?" His father asked, stepping inside without permission, not a care in the world as he went and sat at Namjoon's mirror.

Namjoon nodded, "Doing something for Tae, and you, actually."

His father's eyes narrowed. "What did I tell you about calling him that?"

Namjoon kept his face neutral, "Right. Taehyung."

Their father didn't approve of any of them being addressed by anything besides their full birth names. No nicknames for his children, not pet names for his wife. He claimed they were too sentimental and interfered with business; as of course this wasn't a family in his eyes.

Unless they were in public that is.

"I should get going," Namjoon said after a beat, "It'll start soon." He finished, knowing his father already knew where he was going, before turning to leave.

"Don't disgrace me." His father sneered, the threatening undertone dripping with venom before Namjoon felt his father's eyes lower.

"And never wear those tight pants again, you look like a faggot."

Namjoon left without another word.

✰✰✰✰✰

When Namjoon arrived, Namjoon found first hand that Ten wasn't lying about Somin not being like other politicians. Club music reverberated through the walls, people danced, drank, like a normal party. If it wasn't for the trained guards littering the place making sure nothing was broken.

Something felt terribly off about them though, almost eerie. They all had dark beady eyes, and any exposed skin that he could see excluding their face were filled with markings. Tattoos maybe, yet he couldn't decipher what they were. If he didn't know any better, he'd say they were overdressed gangsters, not the security team of a presidential candidate.

"First time?" The voice sent Namjoon's train of thought off the rails and he blinked rapidly, bringing himself back to reality. That usually happened whenever he was thinking too hard about something.

The boy that spoke to him was young, he could tell, youthful yet ambitious judging by the smile tugging at his lips. He couldn't help but feel like the boy shouldn't be here.

"It is,"  Namjoon finally answered, before he could get caught up in thought again.

The boy nodded, "Figured, I usually recognize everyone at my Noona's parties."

"Noona?" Namjoon blinked.

"Somin," The boy clarified. "She's my sister."

Namjoon nodded, not expecting this. As dark as it is, if Somin hand family, why was his father having so much trouble dealing with her? Whenever he felt like a rival was untouchable, he found someone that was the opposite. Usually being a relative or close friend of theirs.

But it seemed like the President had no clue this boy existed. How is that possible?

"You space out a lot." The boy commented, bringing Namjoon back to earth, "You must be pretty smart."

"Huh?" Namjoon blinked, not seeing the link between spacing out and intelligence.

The boy laughed, "Smart people always space out, cuz they're thinking too much."

Namjoon paused, the reasoning wasn't very logical but he did feel like there was some truth to it.

"I'm Seph by the the way," He finally introduced himself, "And you are?"

Namjoon raised his brows, call it entitlement but all of South Korea knew who he was, especially younger people. Did the boy not have any social media? TV? Google?

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Namjoom shook Seph"s hand. "Kim Namjoon."

Namjoon spent a while with Seph,and they surprisingly hit it off despite the clear age gap. He liked being near people who weren't spoiled by the evils of the world yet, it was soothing, gave him hope. Strengthened his dream.

When the lights suddenly dimmed even more than they already were and the music slowed, Namjoon knew something important was happening. The host of the party was showing herself.

"Here she comes," Seph said beside him, small smile on his face. Yet not entirely happy, Namjoon might've missed it if he wasn't so experienced.

The atmosphere shifted in a way Namjoon could only describe as an almost suffocating dominance, commanding attention to the small stage in the living room area. The music slowing to such an eerie sound that sent shivers down his spine. Everyone had grouped themselves together in a compacted crowd in front of the stage and Namjoon hadn't even noticed he was at the forefront of it.

Despite the slow sound of the music, the place felt awfully quiet, as if you could hear a feather kiss the ground.

Then a singular sound broke the rhythm, the sharp click clacking of high heels on wooden floors. An array of those marked up guards swarming the stage in a cloud, someone clearly in the middle of them, obstructed from sight. Then the guards parted in one fluid step to the side, half to the right, half to the left, like a split in the sea.

There she was, a vision in red. Jeon Somin stood before the gathered crowd. Her hair was straight, silky smooth, a color blacker than night with a moon like shine glistening off it, cascading down either side of her face, framing her perfectly sculpted features. The gown she wore hugged her body just right, the velvety fabric wrapped her curves in an unfailingly beautiful way, makeup dark and fierce with a scarlet lip shade lining her lips.

Namjoon was sure he was looking at a goddess. Not at all what he'd expect from one of his father's political rivals.

After tearing his gaze away from the beauty of Jeon Somin, he noticed the man standing closely behind her, he was different from the other guards. He didn't have any visible markings, striking blonde hair, and a large frame that made him seem almost giant like standing behind Somin.

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, almost like he was jealous of the crowd feasting their eyes on the woman in front of him. Was he her husband?

"Welcome," Somin began, her voice just as pretty as she was, "I'm glad you all could make it. Enjoying yourselves?"

The people around him seemed to all speak in weird unison, and Namjoon felt compelled to comply, though he shook it off and kept his mouth shut; he wan't here to be a fan.

He missed the way Somin's eyes lingered on him momentarily.

Somin didn't say as much as Namjon was expecting, he assumed she'd give a speech ending with her asking them all for their votes. Instead, she ended her talking soon after making sure the crowd was enjoying the party, dismissing them with a smile that didn't reach the corners of her mouth.

When Namjoon went to look, Seph was gone, as if he was never there. Namjoon may space out and he was rather distracted with Somin's entrance, but he was sure he'd have noticed someone breaking away from him. Was he losing his touch?

"Well Well Well."

The voice struck Namjoon to his core and he didn't know why, he turned around almost giving himself whiplash, seeing Somin standing right behind of him. The blonde man from the stage was with her and neither of them seemed taken aback by his reaction.

"Didn't expect to see the son of my rival here tonight." Somin spoke, a slight tilt in her head and Namjoon could practically taste the condescending aura radiating off this woman.

"Rival is far too kind of a word," The blonde man sneered from behind her, leveling Namjoon with a hard glare.

Namjoon didn't let any emotion show, he was used to being guilty by association and has long since been ready for it to eventually lead to his end.

"Matthew." Was all Somin said and the man took a step backwards, and Namjoon knew he wouldn't hear from him again.

"So," Somin went on, addressing Namjoon again. "What brings you here?"

"A friend," Namjoon lied smoothly. "Said your parties aren't like the textbook politicians."

A smirk decorated Somin's red lips, "And what do politicians usually look like? Your father?"

The conversation felt very, provocative, but it isn't like he wasn't expecting this treatment. There is a margin, albeit a small one, in South Korea that would take joy in seeing any member of the Kim family taken down.

"No," Namjoon replied, noting the momentary surprise on Somin's face before she returned to the picture of arrogance she was before.

"What made you become one?" Namjoon followed up, having a question of his own. His curiosity was genuine, no woman as beautiful as Somin wanted to spend her days in the presidency unless she had a good reason.

Somin smiled before her eyes scanned the room, eventually settling on something behind Namjoon. "Right there."

Namjoon turned, following her gaze before it landed on a group of people by the stairs, three men and a woman, the woman clearly drunk beyond repair as the men groped and kissed her. Laughing as they led her up the steps, unaware of the eyes on them. Disturbing.

"My reasoning for wanting to have a say in what happens with this country, is that." Somin stated before sauntering over to the bar area where Namjoon followed, noting that the blonde man shadowed them closely.

"We should help her," Namjoon said, already knowing what was going to happen.

"Trust me." Somin said, coiling her thin fingers around a glass of wine and bringing it to her lips, "She'll be fine."

Namjoon sighed, choosing to accept that Somin already had something in motion for the situation. Taking a seat and watching as the bartender instantly slid a glass of wine to him, which he accepted.

"Now that you know my reasoning," Somin said after taking a sip from her glass. "Why don't you tell me why you're really here? To watch me?"

Namjoon blinked, it had been a while since someone could see through him so easily. He realized Somin probably had always knew why he was there, watching him ever since he walked through the door.

And judging by the almost murderous glare the blonde man was now giving him, he grasped just how serious this situation was becoming. Luckily for him they were in a crowded room.

Bringing the wine glass to his lips, Namjoon decided he might as well get a buzz before dealing with this.

'No.'

Namjoon paused, bringing his free hand to his head, what was that? A thought in his head..that didn't feel like his own.

'Don't drink it.'

Looking down at the glass, he noticed the way the liquid moved strangely in the glass, like a chemical reaction was occurring, nothing noticeable by a regular person. But Namjoon prided himself on his observation skills, that and the bitter smell wafting from it. 

Poison. Probably tasteless, and Namjoon had been too distracted to notice, save from the thought running through his head that he doesn't remember piecing together.

"Cat got your tongue?" Somin's voice pulled Namjoon out of his head and when he looked at her, the smile on her face was different...very different.

An almost manic look in her eyes, a sickening and dreadful feeling engulfed Namjoon, the stomach turning feeling of being in danger.

Setting the glass down and standing up, poker face melting into something he hasn't felt since he was a child. 

Fear. Overwhelming amounts, and his body tensed as he was caught in the strong arms of Mathew, the blonde man from before. Namjoon was no fighter, but surely he was capable of breaking such a hold?

No. Matthew was impossibly strong, Namjoon felt crushed in his arms, like a vice was pressed his arms painfully to his sides. Looking around frantically but nobody else seemed to even notice he was in the room.

They partied, danced, drank, without a care in the world and when Namjoon went to call out, no sound escaped his lips. Eyes widening as the terror spread through his body, completely immobilized by a man effortlessly restraining him, unable to scream. He was completely helpless, yet something was so familiar about this.

Not being able to make sound, restrained without being able to struggle, crowded areas having no idea what was happening.

This matched exactly what happened to the woman from the murder scene earlier. And it became glaringly obvious who was behind it.

"Scared?" Somin's voice spoke to him again and when he looked, her eyes had gone completely white, as if her pupils had rolled to the back of her head as she stepped in front of him.

Namjoon couldn't respond, he was frozen in Mathew's arms, mouth struggling to make any noise in vain. It was suffocating.

"This is only the beginning." Somin  spoke, her voice echoing, bouncing around Namjoon's head like a pinball machine.

Somin extended her hand towards him, his heart beating faster than it ever as the palm of her hand approached his face at a tantalizing pace. It was then that the air rushed back into Namjoon's lungs as her palm stopped inches away from his nose and the tips of her nails plunged into the sides of his face.

Namjoon felt his body stiffen, a choking gasp tumbling out his lips as he felt his body straining, muscles tensing to an impossible and agonizing degree before his eyes rolled up just like Somin's had did. He felt light as a feather for a spit second before coming crashing down brutally.

Everything faded black and Namjoon didn't know if he fell unconscious or died on the spot.

✰✰✰✰✰

Chapter Text

✯✯✯✯✯

It had been two years since their arrival, two long grueling years of ongoing fighting and chaos. South Korea has been divided, and split into factions.

Each ran by someone-or something-different than the last, ruling how they see fit, and constantly scheming on how to eliminate the other from running the entire country.

Jeon Somin, the primordial leader of a Coven of witches and warlocks all helplessly devoted to her everlasting power, had been the trigger. Two years ago, she announced her arrival in South Korea by running for Presidency.

And dropping bodies sporadically to make the humans squirm under her stiletto heel, her plan was simple. Take what she believed was rightfully hers, and she didn't plan on letting humans stand in her way.

The Kim Family had been the pinnacle of South Korea for fifteen years until she showed up, and she triggered their dismantling by putting their smartest member into an occult coma at a party.

She took over after that, driving the humans into a small province and out of her way.

Though, she wasn't the only one vying for control, looking to claim the land for themselves.

And thus, the factions were formed. Somin stood at the center, ruling Seoul and the nearby land to create the witch and warlock faction.

Like clockwork, other leaders stepped up to the mantle, inhuman, but just as greedy. Not even they nor Somin knew what exactly had drawn them all to South Korea, but what was understood is that they wanted it for themselves. Thus, here they are, in a two year stalemate, forced to coexist.

Facing Parabellum.

✯✯✯✯✯

Busan, the second largest city residing in South Korea, normally filled with life. Mountain peaks in the distance, bright lights and bustling with life. A well known tourist attraction.

That is, until the second supernatural force entered the country. Somin remained the leader of the first faction, but Busan became the second formulated faction. 

The media had many opinions and outlooks on Vampires, how they functioned, where they come from, and plenty of movies painting them in various different lights. Some terrifying, others erotic.

Little did they know, that the being they dubbed as Dracula was actually a five foot nine, baby faced, korean boy that gave a new meaning to the term bloodlust.

Yang Jungwon entered South Korea like a storm, unpredictable in nature and disastrous in effects. Human media often portrayed Vampires as uptight creatures, confident and residing in the shadows in old money unless they were feeding.

In reality, Jungwon was very territorial, and not nearly as detached as most would expect or want. So when that raw un-explainable feeling and urge that drew him to South Korea, that feeling of entitlement to the entire country.

It made him a dangerous problem child of the world, cold and self serving. The long overdue war was something he was more than prepared to handle and deal with, and he knew exactly which faction he'd crush first.

Jungwon 'woke' to the sound of relentless knocking, despite never sleeping, he did clear his mind of all thoughts and disturbances, creating a state of nothingness that gave him the same effect of sleep.

So being interrupted wasn't any different than an overworked parent being awoken by their children too early.

A whoosh took over the room and the large wooden door flew open, Jungwon standing half naked with a black robe hanging loosely around his body. Pale skin almost glowing from the sunlight hitting him from behind, cold eyes staring down the fledgling that had been knocking.

"What?" Jungwon hissed lowly, a slight tint of scarlet lingering behind his dark eyes. As if daring the other to give him a bad reason.

The fledgling gulped. "S-Something happened, in the caverns."

Jungwon narrowed his eyes, nobody but him and his court were allowed near the caverns. It was where he disposed of bodies and held captives.

"What happened?" Jungwon inquired, voice shifting to a calmer tone, now knowing that he was disturbed for good reason.

"Sang-Wook was down there and he...he..." The fledgling stammered, averting his gaze.

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. Sang-Wook was an apprentice of his, young, still a nightwalker, not even ninety years old yet. He was practically a child.

"What. Happened?" Jungwon repeated, stepping closer, thus causing the other to step back.

"He's dead."

The blooming red of Jungvwon's eyes were the last thing the fledgling saw before his neck was snapped, his body falling into the hallway with a thud. Jungwon shut the door, running his hands through his hair.

Perhaps it was a brash reaction but he didn't care, the fledgling would wake up in a few hours anyway.

Going to his bathroom, Jungwon sighed. His shriveled up heart never had a beat, but it still ached, for his subordinates. The most common emotion it faced was pure, unbridled anger, and the news didn't make him feel anything new, nothing different.

Nobody ever could.

Jungwon washed the scent of someone who had just been laying in bed all night off his body. styling his hair before drying himself. Centuries old vampire or not, appearance was important, one of few traits he shared with the media's perception of his kind.

After drying himself, he did his makeup, painting his body with harmless spray paint, getting rid of that paleness he hated. Replacing it with a golden tan, a look he preferred when compared to being the complextion of the ivory walls in his bedroom.

After dressing himself, he left his room, casually stepping over the fledgling who was still unconscious on the floor outside. The atmosphere shifted once he stepped out and he could feel it, his aura bearing down on his people like a crushing weight of dominance. The fear and submissiveness in their dark eyes that paled in color compared to his own; it was just how he liked it.

He decided to meet with his court first, surely they knew something regarding what happened to Sang-Wook down in the caverns.

And he was expecting them to take full responsibility.

Kicking open the double doors, Jungwon entered the room like a gust of strong wind, crossing the room in one fell swoop and taking a seat at the head of the table. Kicking his legs up onto the table and crossing one booted foot over the other. Waiting with a morbidly dark expression on his face. He had turned Sang-Wook himself. and like others in Busan, that made him his child. Anger was an understatement.

Heesung was the first to arrive of his court, as always. He was the oldest member of the group, though he was just as unfailingly beautiful as anyone else, his hair was a dark mahogany and his eyes, hardened with age and hardship were outlined with eyeliner. Heesung always had smoky, almost seductive eyes.

Yet to Jungwon's knowledge, he had never bedded anyone, which amused the childish part of his brain.

"Good morning, How are you?" Heesung asked calmly, as if he didn't notice how angry Jungwon was.

"You know the answer to that." Jungwon answered dismissively before snapping his fingers, the sound echoed like a clap and soon a woman walked in. Dressed like a modern day maid, holding a silver tray with one singular wine glass on it. Filled to the brim with a liquid too dark to be wine.

"Blood for breakfast?" Heesung asked like a parent and Jungwon shot him a look but Heesung simply looked back.

Heesung never showed if he was intimidated by Jungwon or not, but he never challenged his authority. He was fearless, not stupid.

"Eating like humans are boring, them and their traditions will be gone soon enough." Jungwon answered lowly, taking a sip from the glass and letting a line of the crimson liquid drip from his lips before lapping it up with his tongue. All while holding eye contact with Heesung.

Heesung averted his gaze and Jungwon had decided he won this one. He always did.

"Woof."

Jungwon and Heesung looked up at the strange sound, seeing none other than Sim Jake standing there, staring at them with a wolfish grin.

Jungwon didn't know why he kept the hybrid around. Probably because he didn't know he was a wolf when he had turned him, and he'd rather be buried alive for eternity than let Christopher Chan, the leader of the third faction in Incheon, have something that belonged to him. The werewolf always knew how to irritate him and it was hardly a species problem. He just hated his guts.

"You two look happy," Jake mused, plopping down at the table across from Heesung, smile still broad. A sharp contrast to the brooding vampires he was around.

"Until you walked in," Jungwon huffed, taking another sip of blood, leveling Jake with a glare that told him not to test his patience.

Jake knew not to speak again but he was bold enough to keep smiling and Jungwon hated. It was like owning a damn puppy.

"Where are they?" Jungwon spoke up, turning his attention back to Heesung, as he always kept tabs on all the important members of their society. Which also made Jungwon impatient in bringing up Sang-Wook.

Before Heesung could respond, the doors to the room suddenly slammed shut, a new presence entering the courtroom in the form of an eerily large crow and a slightly smaller bat. Both dark as the night with maddening red eyes that stuck out on their pitch black bodies.

Jungwon, Heesung, and Jake didn't react much however, this was a regular occurrence for them. The crow and bat landed on either side of Jungwon's throne like chair at the head of the table before their bodies began to melt and dissipate into a murky mist that swirled around like a thick vantablack cloud.

As the vapor finally faded, the last two members of the court appeared, standing on both Jungwon's left and right side.

"Niki," Jungwon started, glancing at the boy to his right side before his gaze shifted to the left, "Jay. You're both late."

Jay smiled, one of his muscular arms coiling around Jungwon's neck, his hand shamelessly resting on the other's chest. "Not really, I think you just missed me."

Everyone else in the room watched intently, knowing if any of them even thought about making advances on Jungwon they'd lose their head. But such was the privilege of the man their leader chose to fuck in order to fill himself with a feeling-no pun intended-besides coldness.

"Or we were just late," Niki cut in with a roll of his eyes, leaning on the table and running his fingers through his silver hair. The only reason he was a court member was because he was apart of Jay's lineage(people he turned into vampires) and Jay had grown attached. He was like a little brother.

A very bratty one and Jungwon would've killed him a long time ago, but somewhere in the dark void inside his heart, he cared for his court members and protected them. It was the same for everyone in his faction.

"Now that you're all here," Jungwon began, reaching up and prying Jay's arm hand off his chest with ease, "I want answers."

"About?" Jake and Niki said simultaneously, blinking like two kids that didn't know the answer to the teacher's question.

Jungwon tightened his grip on the arm rest of his chair, the wood cracking and splintering under his grip.

"Sang-Wook is head." Heesung sounded before Jungwon could snap on Jake and Niki, everyone turning to look at him.

"So you do know," Jungwon said in almost disbelief.

Heesung didn't blink. "I know everything, including the fact that Sang-Wook went to the caverns alone without permission."

Jungwon narrowed his eyes, he was a very strict person when it came to the rules of his faction. Everyone knew that he had zero tolerance for in-fighting, disobedience, mingling with wolves, and definitely no going into the caverns without his permission. Sang-Wook knew this, he was very obedient and soft. So he was more than curious as to why he'd suddenly go against these rules.

"That's weird," Jay commented, as if reading Jungwon's mind. "That kid wouldn't leave his bed if Wonnie told him not to."

Jake snickered at the nickname, coughing when 'Wonnie' gave him a death stare.

"Well, the expert did have something to say about it," Heesung followed up, the expert he mentioned being a specialist in the supernatural. He was very helpful in deciphering rather or not another faction was causing anything to happen.

"What did he say?" Jungwon said, anger already bubbling under his cold skin.

Heesung sighed before responding. "He said it was caused by a type of magic."

Jungwon saw red.

✯✯✯✯✯

After two long years, Somin was fully comfortable in having Seoul pinned under her foot. On top of being the unspoken shot caller of South Korea itself, though this position didn't get rid of the other leaders who she was forced to award factions to when they invaded the country just like she did, not long after the party that triggered all of this.

It didn't bother her however, she's had two years to plan their downfall and the spell she was brewing would be unstoppable once it was ready.

The house of the president was her headquarters, and with a little tasteful touch of her witchcraft, she was practically living in a palace in the heart of Seoul, the rustling city surrounding it like a flashy landscape.

Currently, Somin was locked away in her bedroom, the furniture cleared from the carpeted floor, a rune painted over the fabric with thick red liquid. All light was snuffed from the room except the quartet of wax candles blooming at each corner of the runic symbol.

Somin herself was just above it, hovering in the air on her back, her arms and legs dangling as if something was pushing her up by the small of her back. Her eyes were rolled back, only leaving stark whiteness in their place.

Upon further inspection, one could see the lines and markings within the runic symbol; like a map was inside of it. A map of Seoul.

The spell Somin was performing was one she did every morning, a city wide search for any and all illegal practice of magic without permission. In a city full of witches and warlocks, she needed to keep tabs on their actions or her faction's organization would suffer.

Or worse, one of them would make a premature attack on another faction and trigger the start of this war far too early.

In her own eyes, her vision was zooming through the city, through every alley, building, room, attic and basement. Her scan blanketed the city like a cool breeze and nobody knew she was watching, and as she went to complete her inspection by checking the outskirts of the city, the door to her room opened.

Light flooded the room and the candles blew out themselves, Somin blinking her eyes back to normal before she fell from the air abruptly.

She braced for an impact that never came as she landed into a pair of muscular arms. Clearing her vision, she looked into the eyes of the man responsible for the jarring interruption.

Mathew Kim. Her personal bodyguard and fiance of two decades.

"There better be a good reason for this," Somin said, her feet meeting the floor as Mathew put her down and she started cleaning up the spell preparations.

"There is," Mathew assured her. "You have a wild animal on your lawn and twelve warlocks in intensive care."

Somin paused. "Chan?"

Mathew shook his head and Somin let out a tired sigh. Only one being in this country rivaled the wolf leader and it was the most infuriating brat Somin has ever met.

✯✯✯✯✯

"Yang Jungwon." Somin greeted once she stepped outside, wrapped in a red silk robe that trailed behind her majestically.

Jungwon was standing in the middle of the lawn outside the house of presidency, the once green grass stained a deep shade of red from where he had tore into Somin's security.

"To what do I owe the displeasure?" Somin asked, folding her arms, Mathew standing besides her protectively.

Jungwon glared daggers at the both of them, a deep shade of crimson blossomed in his pupils, his scleras bloodshot. The spray tan he gave himself had faded and his pale skin shone under the light and contrasted his ravenous eyes.

"Don't play dumb you parasite," Jungwon growled. He never was fond of magic, he hated it and Somin's kind was nothing more than humans with a new form of technology to hide behind.

Inferior in his eyes.

Mathew's gaze hardened, he could hardly contain himself whenever someone spoke disrespectfully to Somin and this was that to a higher degree.

He leveled Jungwon with his own fierce glare.

It didn't go unnoticed by the vampire and in the blink of an eye, the shorter male was standing in front of Mathew. Despite having to look up at most people, anyone who's ever came into contact with Jungwon would say they always felt like he was looking down on them.

"Are you challenging me?" Jungwon questioned, teeth pressed, fangs peeking from behind his lips.

"No," Somin answered before Mathew could get a word in. "He wouldn't dream of it."

Mathew's brow twitched but he knew better than to argue. He couldn't let his temper make him a liability to Somin, he wouldn't be able to live if she started seeing him as such.

"Good." Jungwon replied before flicking his gaze to Somin who simply had an expression of indifference.

"Why are you here?" Somin asked again, wishing to get this over with as quickly as possible before anyone else in her faction found out Jungwon was here.

Let alone the bloodshed he caused.

"Still playing this confused game?" Jungwon snapped, "You know you killed him."

Somin blinked, genuinely confused now as it was taking a turn she wasn't expecting.

"Killed...who?" She inquired.

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. "The caverns under my mountain."

Before Somin could reply, she noticed a crowd building at the gate, having noticed the public figures gathered in one spot. And the grass.

Somin was quick to react, repairing the grass with a flick of her hand before turning to Jungwon.

"Let's continue this inside," She offered. "No fighting, just talking."

Jungwon glanced over his shoulder, scoffing at the crowd before stepping inside the residency, pushing passed Mathew.

✯✯✯✯✯

Mathew closed the door to Somin's office once they had all gathered inside. Taking his place by Somin's side again as she sat at her desk.

Jungwon pulled a chair in front of it, sitting down and kicking his boots up onto it from the front, crossing one foot over the other.

Somin's eyes lingered on the other's feet for a second before rising to level with that scowl of his.

"Now, what happened in these caverns of yours?" Somin asked, her curiosity piqued as to not only what happened, but why the other was accusing her of it.

Jungwon looked ready to make another snarky comment but he swallowed it down like bile, if Heesung was there he"d lecture him how talking in circles wouldn't get results.

"Last night," Jungwon started with a sigh. "A young sire of mine was murdered in those caverns."

"And how is that relevant to us?" Mathew spoke, unable to hold back much longer.

Jungwon's gaze cut to him and when their eyes locked, Mathew's body froze.

"Stop." Somin spoke quickly and firmly, the hand she had under her desk on her lap balled into a fist.

Yet her face showed nothing.

Jungwon blinked and looked away, Mathew letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Having just experienced the coercion of a vampire.

"It's relevant to you because it was caused by magic."

Somin paused. That wasn't possible, the only person allowed to use magic in her faction was herself, and she did her routine every morning, it wasn't plausible.

Mathew did interrupt her this morning but with this happening last night, the spellcasting would've had to have happened the day before or the same night and Somin"s scan was perfect. Even if this caster performed this well before or well after her scan, magic lingers.

Meaning she'd still catch it if it was cast before her scan as well as if they did it after.

"That isn't possible." Somin said finally, deciding that there was no way magic from her faction was responsible for this murder.

A dangerous glint flashed in Jungwon's eyes, "You're really going to sit there and bullshit me?"

Somin watched the other a moment, knowing the man before her was a ticking time bomb.

He always has been.

She couldn't risk anything bigger than the mess on her front lawn; not before it was ready.

"Listen," Somin began, treading lightly with her tone. "This isn't logical, why would I make a move like this? On someone so insignificant?"

Jungwon fist crashed down into Somin's desk, splitting it in half as she slid back in her chair. Mathew jumping in front of her, gritted teeth.

"He wasn't fucking insignificant," Jungwon growled, having risen from his chair. "He was a kid. I know your rules about magic, and everyone with a brain knows rule can and will be broken."

Somin watched as Jungwon walked over to the door, staring back at her over his shoulder.

"You probably aren't even aware someone in this witch toilet has been plotting but let me be very fucking clear. You better have a better answer for me when I return in twenty-four hours. Or I will tear this entire city apart."

And with that, the door slammed shut, shaking the room as Jungwon made his exit. Somin was left with her thoughts, a battle with Jungwon was not one she was willing to start at this moment.

Not with his family's history.

"Set up a meeting." Somin finally spoke aloud, still seated in her chair, gazing down at her destroyed desk.

"I don't think the coven members will know any more than you do," Mathew protested. "We should prep-"

"Not with the coven." Somin interrupted before finally standing up and walking over to her wardrobe.

"A faction leader meeting."

Mathew paused in surprise, "There hasn't been one of those in a year, and for good reason."

"Well," Somin said taking a breath, "it's needed. Get it done."

Mathew nodded before leaving the room. Once he was gone, Somin opened her wardrobe and instead of racks of clothing, a wooden door was inside, a runic symbol engraved in the fine material.

With a wave of her hand, the symbol let off a soft hue and the door creaked opened, revealing stairs.

As Somin vanished down them, the door closed by itself. The stairwell was long and dark before she reached a dimly lit room that was littered with Eldritch markings and dark arcane imagery all over the floors and walls.

In the middle of the room laying on the floor was a man, shackled at every limb and the throat. Somin stood over him with an unreadable expression.

"It's almost time, Kim Namjoon."

✯✯✯✯✯

Incheon. The third largest city in South Korea and home to the fiendish lycans that invaded years ago and connected to Seoul by the speedy metro that had been abandoned a long time ago via a mutual agreement by Somin and the leader of the lycans.

Christopher Chan.

Despite the media's portrayal of lycans, or werewolves, to be very animalistic and savage, that only reflected them in conflict. Not so much their lifestyle.

There were several packs within Incheon, contrary to leaders like Jungwon who ran all of his people under one lordship and place. Of course, Chan's pack were sovereign leaders but they were more parental, mentor-like than they were dictators.

Incheon was well organized, the main thing that was thrown out was the dependance on technology, the city has become almost like a forest. Vegetation and trees growing with no machines to keep them at bay, the bright buildings became darker and more run in tribal structures the lycans used for many things.

Education for young ones, medical care, armory, and hunting. With human control being reduced to zero, wildlife took a liking to Incheon which turned market shopping into hunting grounds.

It was a harmonious habitat for them. Yet, the dangers of the future haunted them, constantly having to look over their shoulders and having a constant personal vendetta with both the vampires and the humans. Paranoia was an easy way of putting it.

Chan's 'den" was far from a cave in the wall, rather a tower like building with trees surrounding it and vines coiling around the foundation. At this time, he's found on the top floor, in the middle of a virtual meeting. One that Han, a younger member of his pack, had to set up cause Chan was far too detached from technology to work a laptop.

Chan was sat in his chair, dressed in jeans, heavy boots and a large fur coat, shirtless underneath. His chin was leaned into his palm, a very bored expression dressing his sharp facial features as he stared at the computer screen.

Kim Hyunwook, the human representative, has been rambling on the other end for thirty minutes now but Chan couldn't bring himself to pay attention.

The old man's words were very poorly disguised insults and had a nasty tone of condescension. Chan could tell he was still bitter from two years ago where Somin not only stole his presidency and took control of Seoul, but also made his second eldest child vanish from the face of the planet.

Hyunwook was disgusted by the thought of the supernatural taking what was his and the denial hadn't faded. He still thought he was somehow the Pinnacle of existence.

"Are you even listening to me?" Hyunwook snapped, making Chan finally focus.

He stared into the screen, watching the veins in Hyunwook's neck pop with his frustration.

"No," Chan answered honestly, "You haven't been saying anything worth listening to."

Hyunwook's brow twitched, "If I was there.."

"What?" Chan cut in, eyes lighting up, "Was that you're way of threatening me?"

A wolfish grin spread across Chan's face when he saw the look on Hyunwook's face at the implication. He was scared.

"What? Don't be ridiculous," Hyunwook said, and Chan had to hold in his laugh at the sight of the old guy trying to act tough.

"Thought so," Chan snorted. "And I'm not opening the Metro to you, I'm under a contract I agreed to."

Hyunwook's jaw tightened, "Surely you don't care about that piece of paper, surely you'd like to see that bitch get knocked down a peg and su-"

"Surely you best not question an lycan's loyalty." Chan interrupted. He kept his word to whoever he gave it to, even someone like Somin.

Which means he wasn't on board with Hyunwook's sneaky plan to funnel his human spies into Seoul through the metro station in Incheon.

"I urge you to reconsider, this would be the chance we need." Hyunwook argued, not doing a very good job at concealing the bubbling anger building in him. He wasn't the type of man that was used to being told no.

Illegally plotting a fifteen year presidency would do that to a person, a new level of entitlement.

"We?" Chan scoffed. "You're the only one desperate here, if this is a race you're in last."

"And you aren't even second, are you?" Hyunwook shot back quickly, fists balled in his chair.

A low growl reverberated from Chan's broad chest, though before he could respond, the doors to his meeting room flung open.

"What is it? I'm busy," Chan said, looking away from the computer screen to meet the gaze of Lee Felix, his right hand.

"Something's happened at the greenhouse, it's bad." Felix told him, a grim expression on his face.

Chan glanced at Hyunwook on the screen before back to Felix, "How bad?"

Felix paused a second before replying, "Murder. Not by any lycan either."

Chan clenched a fist, bearing his teeth. His breath became so hot, it came out his nostrils like steam, before he turned to the screen with a feral glare in his eyes.

The color drained from Hyunwook's face.

"Was this you?" Chan asked lowly, "Is this your way of trying to force me to open the metro?" He followed up before the other could get a word in.

"What!?" Hyunwook exclaimed, "That's crazy, you aren't thinking clearly. You don't even know how-"

"Silver bullets." Felix interrupted from the front of Chan's desk, answering the question for him.

Chan stood up, slamming his hands on the desk, still glaring into the screen as Hyunwook stammered.

"You wait until I get my hands on you." 

"Wait a damn second!" Hyunwook yelled, "I have nothing to do with this! Why would I kill some random civilian, use your head!"

Chan scoffed, "I'd rather use yours, as a fucking ashtray."

"Hyung, this came to," Felix cut in, handing Chan a letter just as a woman appeared on Hyunwook's side of the screen, handing him an identical envelope with a runic stamp on it.

Chan ripped it open, reading over it's contents before his eyebrows rose.

"A meeting?" Chan and Hyunwook said simultaneously, equally as surprised about the sudden event.

Especially after what happened at the last one.

"Looks like I'll be seeing you sooner rather than later." Chan said after a while, slamming the computer shut before Hyunwook could reply, cracking the screen and flattening it entirely.

"You really think the old guy did this? It isn't his M.O" Felix asked, resting his hands on the other's shoulders in an attempt to calm him down.

"The humans are the only ones with silver bullets," Chan surmised but let out a sigh at Felix's massage.

"But," Chan followed up, "Even if he doesn't know anything about it, he'll know where I can find the person who did do it. He'll sacrifice anyone to save himself."

Felix nodded, "What's the meeting about?"

Chan shrugged. "Didn't give any details, just that it's urgent and it's happening tomorrow morning."

"Pretty convenient," Felix mumbled, clearly thinking about the greenhouse murder.

"Exactly my thought." Chan said, tapping his claw like finger nails on the wood of his desk.

"If Hyunwook doesn't know anything, I'm willing to bet someone at that meeting does."

✯✯✯✯✯

Two years of being stuck in an occult coma was not for the faint of heart; or rather, sanity. It wasn't the bliss of unconsciousness, the peace of being on a painless death bed.

For Kim Namjoon, it was an endless, suffocating, nightmare he couldn't escape. Thoughts, voices, and visions burned the space behind his eyes, squeezing his brain and weakening his body.

A constant state of terror, flashes of people and situations he didn't recognize. He wasn't even sure these things were his own.

He felt like he was drowning in a tar pit.

'Get up.'

That voice was new compared to what he had been compressed with for the last two years, but also strangely familiar. Like he has heard it before, outside of his head.

'You need to wake up. NOW.'

Suddenly, air flushed into his lungs, he slipped free from the tar pit of mental monstrosities and came crashing down to reality.

Hitting him like whiplash, Namjoon's eyes snapped open. Rising from his laying position, he winced and dropped instantly. His body has been completely stationary for far too long.

He groaned on the cold floor, willing his body to learn how to function again, the ache of his muscles nothing compared to the throbbing of his head.

Shifting ever so slightly, he could feel the chains, wrapped tightly around his limbs, and one squeezing his throat, making his sharp breaths raspy and desperate.

He didn't know if his senses were functioning properly but he was almost sure he heard the sound of a door opening, light hitting his face. Not that he could focus, his eyes were open but the pain was blinding.

Footsteps. Getting closer, then soft hands, gentle and careful, lifting him and propping him up into a sitting position on the nearby wall.

"You look like shit," The person said, Namjoon was too out of it to make out anything about the person. He couldn't even tell if this was a man or woman.

Though he figured that question was answered when the shackles were released and he was hauled up with ease, his arm wrapped around someone's smaller shoulders.

Either he lost a lot of weight in his coma or he was being saved by a tiny body builder.

The movement must have been too much, considering Namjoon was starting to feel the darkness take over again, just as he was carried through a corridor and tossed into a bed that was unbelievably comfortable to his malnourished body.

As if god was playing games with him, his vision cleared right before he passed out again and he finally got a quick glance at who was standing over him with a caring expression.

Seph. Somin's younger brother.