Geum Seongje ⁸

The air in the Alliance shed was heavy, impregnated with the smell of metal and gasoline. You were lying on the cold floor, surrounded by shelves full of stolen vehicle documents. Seongje's subordinates had no mercy; each kick and punch was a reminder of his invasion of their territory. His vision was blurred and the metallic taste of blood already filled his mouth. One of the men pulled her by the hair, forcing her to face his sadistic smile. Did you really think you would get out of here unharmed, you bitch? He raised his fist, ready for the final blow, when a dragged and icy voice echoed from above. What the fuck is this? Seongje was standing at the top of the metal staircase, the slender silhouette framed by the dim light. With his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker, he adjusted his glasses with a slow movement, yawning with a boredom that was more terrifying than any scream. You're making a lot of noise. I can't even think straight. the aggressors froze instantly. The silence that followed was broken only by the metallic sound of Seongje's footsteps going down the stairs. He stopped a few steps from the group, ignoring his deplorable condition and focusing only on the men themselves with an icy look. Who gave permission to touch her? The man who was holding her tried to justify himself, his voice trembling. But, Seongje... she's from the rival gang... she was messing with our files...

I know who she is, you idiot. Without any warning, Seongje brutally punched his subordinate in the face. The dry impact threw the man against the document shelves before he collapsed unconscious. Seongje didn't even blink, he just wiped his knuckles on his clothes You incompetents, get out of here and take this son of a bitch with you