Taesung
Is this him? The rival who got under Hyunjin's skin so badly? The two heads of the most powerful gangs in South Korea sit across from each other. NABI against the Yakuza, who shouldn't be in Seoul at all. I learn quickly and know how to search the internet.
The Yakuza are the Japanese mafia, but Mishimoto had to step on Yoon's toes. This meeting isn't just about who wants to be number one in Seoul. Hyunjin wants revenge, and he has good reason. Mishimoto may want to be at the top, but the game has changed long since then. He has one more target.
Me.
No one knows yet, and I don't want any of them to find out that I'm learning their language and understanding them better all the time. This also enables me to grasp things that would otherwise remain hidden behind a foreign language. They're talking about me. Although Mishimoto is Japanese, they talk to each other in Hyunjin's native language, which gives me a big advantage at the moment. I'm not learning Japanese.
The two gangs are sizing each other up, but I feel like most eyes are on me, because I'm new here. Only two and a half months. And Mishimoto has taken an interest in me.
A woman with dreadlocks from the rival gang is sizing me up. Her hair is braided into thick blue kanekalon strands and pulled high on her head into an exaggeratedly voluminous ponytail. Her body is almost entirely covered with a chaotic cluster of tattoos — not for aesthetic reasons, but a random jumble of motifs that probably give her the tough look she's going for. She probably think that.
So be it.
But what strikes me more than her poor-quality pictures is the excess metal disfiguring her face. It makes me feel uneasy.
It seems as though she has every type of piercing that can be done on the human body. Pierced ears are just the beginning, she has rings on both sides of her nose, as well as a large septum piercing which distorts her entire expression. There are more balls above and below her upper lip, and rings in her lips and eyebrows. Dermal implants are embedded in her cheeks and cheekbones, making it look as if she has small nails stuck in her face. As if that were not enough, tiny implants protrude from under her skin — modifications that look more disturbing than impressive. She has a scar across her eye which looks so regular that it is probably fake.If she were a man, I'd bet she'd have beading on her penis. I've read that it's almost mandatory in some Yakuza circles.
I have nothing against piercings — seriously. I have pierced ears and eyebrows myself. But this? It's more metal than human. Honestly, I started to wonder what a disadvantage it would be in a fight. One sharp move, one blow, one tug on those ridiculous pigtails and her neck would give way before her fist did.
She sticks her tongue out at me. Split. At that moment, I think it would be better if she kept it hidden.
As I said, I can tolerate piercings. Tattoos never appealed to me, but after I was forced to get a gang symbol tattooed on my skin, I stopped protesting altogether and got a second tattoo eagerly. Moreover, I have always been fascinated by Hyunjin's bird tattoo — when his muscles move, they resemble a flock in flight.
But modifications like a split tongue? I would ban those immediately.
Mishimot's voice pulls me out of my thoughts about the girl with dreadlocks. I hadn't been paying attention to what they'd been talking about so far, but he asks me a question. In my native language.
„Did you know that Yoon let your stepfather killed, Taesung?" He addresses me by name, his tone slow and piercing as he tries to provoke me, just as Hyunjin predicted.
„I told you to leave him out of this." Hyunjin's voice is cold and sharp, but I have no problem answering. I let Mishimoto know, that I don't care about that bastard. I put my hand on Hyunjin's shoulder. It's a gesture to show, that I don't need his protection. But as soon as I do, I feel all the attention in the room shift towards that small touch.
Hyunjin sighs.
I probably shouldn't have made that gesture. I don't know what I've caused now. Have I undermined his authority in front of the others? Does he see it as a sign of weakness? Does he think I'm a boy looking for support?
Mishimoto's sneer forces me into action. I slide my hand down Hyunjin's shoulder, clasping my hands behind my back to hide their tremor. My throat is dry and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, but I take a deep breath and pluck up the courage to look Mishimoto in the eye.
„I would have done it myself, but he beat me to it." I'm nervous, and I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing. I should have kept quiet. Mishimoto lets out a few jerky sounds that resemble laughter.
„You have determination. You're nothing like your father. You're not the same weak person as him. He's scum who crawls on the ground like a dog." I can't say I care any more about my father than I do about Harris. He sold me out and I've barely seen him for two hours. But he's my father, and for some reason, that made me react. The muscles in my face twitched slightly. It's enough to confirm something for Mishimoto, though. He leans back, and his hollow laughter seems to echo off the walls. He points his finger at me. A chill runs down my spine.
„See? One word was enough. Weak fathers produce weak sons. But maybe..., maybe you'll amount to something." Each syllable cuts deep, and I know he's only saying this to make me act.
„That's enough!" Hyunjin slammed his fist on the table, causing the glasses to jump. „I see this was all just about testing the boy. We're leaving." He stands up and buttons his jacket. At that moment, Mishimoto also stands up and everyone in the room reacts simultaneously, preparing for a possible attack.
„I just wanted to remind you that I like to repeat the past." He tears his shirt. The sound of cocked guns fills the room, including mine. I still dislike this weapon and have my knives with me in case of emergency — I mastered them right after training with Hanil — but I try to calm the trembling in my hands and keep Mishimoto in my sights. Just then, the dreadlocked woman has me in his sights, aiming right at my forehead. My eyes wander towards her for a brief moment, then return to Mishimoto.
Surprising me with his audacity and courage, he turns his back to us when so many weapons are aimed at him. He lets his shirt slip from his shoulders to the floor, performing a move that would be more at home on a stage than in a room full of weapons. He moves slowly and calmly, as if he is sure that no one will pull the trigger. That is where he sees his trump card. In that boldness and unwavering control over the situation.
He has an English inscription tattooed on his shoulders: Only God can judge me. Below that is a jumble of Japanese characters that I don't understand.
He looks back at Hyunjin. „I still have a free spot there. Soon I'll fill it with your name, Hyunjin." My eyes dart across his back, then, looking back at Hyunjin, I notice his Adam's apple jolt. I don't know what the characters mean, but judging by his reaction, I know one thing: It's not an empty threat.
... ༺༻ ...
BLOOD DEBT (피의 빚)