BOOK 2 of 'Bubblegum Gucci Punk & Gangster Model Hunk'
•Be it night or be it day, the voices in his head, always mange to stay•
Ex-underground fighter and overnight sensational idol Park Dae Ho, dropped out of sight, making the people of South Korea...
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February 02, 12:27 A.M.
The man lets out a blood-curdling scream, his cry echoing throughout the basement. He's been in the dark space for days now, tied up to a chair with minimal food and water, enough to keep him alive. The victim's bleeding forehead and split lip do not compare to the pain of his nail being pulled out. It's agonizing and gut-wrenching. He pants as tears roll down his cheeks and bloody snot tastes at the end of his tongue, shivering under the cold gaze of his tormentor.
"I need a name. Who asked you to do this!" A masked man bellows, tightly gripping the pliers in his gloved hand, tips dipped in red holding the plucked-out nail.
"I-I don't...know," the victim answers, his voice hoarse and wavering from all the screaming.
Without a word, the other brings his pliers back to the man's fingers. He puts his gloved hand in the air, one fingering opening and then next, a countdown to warn his prey.
"Alright! Alright! I'll tell you!"
"That wasn't hard, now was it?" The man moves back with a victorious smirk behind his mask, and places the tool on the metal table near him. He folds his arms, waiting for the brunette tied on the chair to speak. He squints at the blinding fluorescent light in the room illuminated just above him, giving him a headache. The slow dripping of water from the roof isn't loud but his heightened senses pick it up, frustration building up in his chest. He taps his foot on the rough graphite restlessly, finally being able to find the answer he seeks.
"T-They call him Mr. X, I d-don't know who he is. He gives orders from above and is p-powerful. Even has connections in the police."
The man dressed in black stares incredulously, his eyes boring like that of a predator ready to hunt its prey.
"I s-swear this is all I know! Next w-week there's going to be an exchange at Bulkkochpark in the evening."
Before he could investigate further, a knock on the door averts his attention. "Bullet, we're leaving. Wrap this up later," a voice calls out from the other side.
"You better be telling the truth or you'd wish you were dead." Bullet pulls the man's dirty shirt and warns him. He removes his mask as he walks outside the basement, a man shorter than him waiting outside. "Shadow, are the arrangements done?"
"Yes, Pandora is already waiting for us in the van," Shadow replies, ruffling his blond hair with a sigh. He has a petite physique, feline eyes, and pale skin contrasting his black attire and fuller pink lips.
The two men climb the stairs and step out of the basement, finding themselves in the office of a rundown gym. The place is registered under Shadow's name but it's all for a show to cloud over the real work they do under. The foul smell of gray water and chipping wallpaper help keep visitors away, no one would really want to workout in a gym that's falling apart.
