He limped.
He ran.
He hid behind dumpsters, terrified that every shadow was the hit squad coming to finish the job.
Twenty minutes.
Seo Jin was cornered, not by the hit squad, but by his own body giving out.
He collapsed in a dark, narrow alley behind a high end nightclub.
The bass from the music could be heard through the brick walls, vibrating in his aching bones.
He was freezing, soaked, and bleeding. He had no money, no phone, and most importantly had no idea if his mom had been saved or if she was alive or dead.
Footsteps.
His ears perked up.
Someone was walking into the alley.
Seo Jin panicked as he pressed himself against the wall.
Is it the killers?
A figure emerged from the back of the club.
It was a man. Tall.
He wore a black trench coat over a suit, unbothered by the rain. He took a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing orange in the darkness.
He looked rich from his outfit and accessories.
