It had been a week since that incident with the thugs. Surprisingly, things had become peaceful. Whenever I delivered food to their apartment, they were polite, almost stiff. They would look at me with clear caution, murmuring, "Thank you," before quickly shutting the door. It was obvious they were afraid of me.
I turned away from their door, heading back toward my bike to finish the rest of my deliveries. I was just about to mount the seat when my instincts screamed. Without thinking, my body moved on its own, twisting sharply to the side.
A heavy metal bat whistled through the air, missing my head by an inch. I stumbled back, my heart hammering against my ribs. Shit.
More men stepped out from the shadows, surrounding me. I held up my hands, trying to keep my voice steady. "Chill, I'm a minor," I said, hoping to diffuse the situation.
But then, the same thugs I had taught a lesson a week ago stepped out from behind the new arrivals. They pointed trembling fingers at me.
"That's him! That monster beat us to death!"
Oh, great. There was no escaping this. My mind raced—how was I supposed to explain this to Yuhan? If I ran away, my deliveries would be late, and I would have to pay ten times the cost out of my own salary.
The new guy, clearly the boss, stepped forward. He looked at my attackers with pure disdain. "I couldn't believe a little boy with soft bones could beat you. Are you kidding me?"
"No, boss! It's true! That boy is a monster!" the thug pleaded.
The boss turned his gaze to me. I shook my head, putting on my best innocent face. "I don't know what they're talking about. I'm just a delivery boy. How could I beat those guys? They're way bigger than me."
The boss sighed, clearly losing patience. He turned and smacked the two thugs who had brought me here. "Do you think I'm a fool? Just wait for the consequences of humiliating me like this."
He turned back to me. His expression was unreadable as he walked into my personal space. I braced myself, but instead of swinging, he just patted my shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he said flatly. "Just go."
"Thank you for sparing me," I replied, bowing my head. As I walked toward my bike, I couldn't resist. I glanced back at the two thugs who had set this up and gave them a sharp, cold smirk.
I was halfway to my bike when the boss spoke again, his voice dropping to a low, chilling tone that made me freeze in my tracks.
"That... was no ordinary reflex."
******
The house was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of our dinner. I had brought home food for Lory and Yuhan, a small luxury in our difficult lives. Yuhan watched me with sharp, suspicious eyes, so I offered him a calm smile. "I don't do trouble," I promised, and he finally relaxed.
Lory's face lit up as she tucked into the meal. "Thank you, Brother Killan!" she beamed.
I ruffled her hair, a warmth spreading through my chest. "You're welcome. For my sweet little sister, I can do anything."
I felt Yuhan's gaze on me again. He knew the truth of my past, or at least he suspected enough to keep his distance. He didn't trust me, and I knew if Lory ever found out what I really was, she would look at me with that same coldness. I pushed the thought away; I could endure anything if it meant keeping her safe.
Then, the door rattled under a violent, aggressive knock.
Both Yuhan and Lory froze, their faces pale with terror. "Who is that?" I asked, though the pit of my stomach already knew.
"It's Dad," Yuhan whispered.
He stood up to intercept him, but the door flew open before he could reach it. Our father shoved his way inside, his eyes wild and desperate. He lunged for Lory, grabbing her by the arm.
"Dad! What are you doing? Where are you taking her?" Yuhan shouted, rushing forward to pull him off. With a brutal swing, our father punched Yuhan to the ground.
"I have a massive debt!" our father spat, dragging Lory toward the door. "If I don't give them the girl, they'll kill us all!"
My blood went cold. I surged forward, grabbing his arm. "AHHHH! FUCK YOU, KILLAN! LET ME GO, YOU USELESS BRAT!" He shrieked, struggling to break my grip.
My body went unnaturally still. The adrenaline flooded my system, numbing my fear and sharpening every sense into a razor's edge. My former life—the one I had tried to bury—rose to the surface. "Take me instead," I said, my voice eerily calm.
Our father laughed, a dry, mocking sound. "You? You're a coward. You couldn't even kill an ant."
Lory was sobbing, her cries piercing the room. "Dad, please! Don't hurt Brother Killan! I'll go with you, just stop!"
"No!" I shouted. "Take me. I'll sign whatever papers you want. I'll donate my organs—whatever it takes to settle the debt."
He smirked, letting go of Lory and grabbing my shirt. Yuhan pulled Lory into a tight embrace, shielding her eyes. I looked at Yuhan and gave him a faint, final smile. He nodded, understanding the grim weight of it. As my father dragged me out into the night, I whispered, "You're all fucking dead."
"What was that?" he barked.
I faked a shaky breath. "I said… I think I'm going to die, Dad."
He didn't care. He marched me to the old, abandoned building on the edge of town. Inside, the thugs waited. At the center sat the boss—the same man I had crossed paths with days ago.
My father shoved me forward. "Boss! I brought the payment!"
The boss looked up, his brow furrowing as he recognized me. "Oh? The one from the other day. What a small world." He looked at my father, his expression turning sour. "What the hell is this? I told you I wanted the girl."
"My son is worth more!" my father pleaded. "His organs alone—"
"I need lifetime profit," the boss interrupted, his gaze shifting to the door where he clearly intended to ship Lory to the red district. "The girl is the key."
The rage in my chest turned into ice. I understood exactly what he had planned for her.
"Of course, if that's what you want. " I began, my voice deceptively soft. The boss leaned in, expecting submission.
"That will never happen," I finished, "because I'm going to kill you all."
I whipped the kitchen knife from my pocket in one fluid, blurring motion. I didn't hesitate. I became a ghost of my former profession. I moved through them like a storm of steel. Every strike was precise, calculated, and lethal. I aimed for the throat, the heart, the femoral artery, the vital weaknesses that ended lives in a heartbeat.
The room erupted in chaos, but I was faster. I was a machine of efficiency. The thugs dropped one by one, their screams cut short by the swift, rhythmic thrum of the blade. In less than an hour, the room was silent.
The boss stood alone, his face drained of color, his hands shaking as he reached for his gun. He pointed the weapon at me, but I didn't flinch. I stood tall, the knife dripping, my eyes empty of fear. The memories of my time as an elite assassin flooded back, clear and cold. To these thugs, I was just a boy. But they had no idea what kind of legacy I had left behind.
The air in the room was thick with the smell of blood and gunpowder. I stood over him, my heart pounding in my chest like a war drum. Just seconds ago, he had been pointing that gun at my face, his eyes cold and ready to end me. But I had been faster.
The knife I threw had landed perfectly in his eye. He shrieked, clutching his face as the weapon clattered to the floor. I didn't hesitate. I snatched the gun from the ground and fired five times. Each shot hit him, and he writhed on the floor, howling in agony. I felt nothing—no pity, no regret. Just a cold, hard numbness.
Suddenly, I noticed Killian's dad watching from the corner. His face was pale, his eyes wide with pure terror. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. I walked over, my movements calm and deliberate, and shoved the barrel of the gun into his throat.
"Don't ever do this again, Dad," I growled, my voice steady. "You made me wipe out your debt collectors. Do you want to end up like them? Lifeless?"
He tried to speak, but only a choked, wet sound came out. Then, he let out a pathetic scream, and I saw the dark stain spreading across his pants. He had lost control.
"How?" he whimpered, shaking uncontrollably.
I grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back, my face inches from his. "It's because I'm not your damn son."
His eyes rolled back, and he fainted from the shock. I raised the gun, my finger tightening on the trigger. This was it. One shot, and the problem would be gone forever. But then, two faces flashed into my mind: Yuhan and Lory. If I killed their father, they would never look at me the same way again. They would hate me, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing them.
I lowered the gun. Killing him was too easy, and it would destroy the only people I actually cared about. Instead, I decided he needed to learn a lesson he would never forget. I grabbed him by his collar and hauled him up, waiting in the shadows for him to wake up. He was going to learn what fear really felt like.