Hongjoong

"Hello, how can I help you today?"

"I'm looking for the Blue Butterfly." A tall man wearing a trench coat said as he walked up to the store counter.

Hongjoong's drifted up and down the man, taking him in. He had always been a good judge of character and there was nothing off-putting about the man. "Blue Butterfly, eh?" He ran a hand through his pink tinted hair and traced his teeth with his tongue. "How far did you come?"

"From the Purple Star."

So, he was genuine.

Hongjoong nodded in approval and lifted the section of the counter that blocked access the backroom after surveying the store he worked in.

The man nodded and stepped through, then disappeared behind the black curtain.

Once he was gone, Hongjoong check the time and noticed that it was almost time to close, so he went ahead and locked the front door. All five deadbolts, three thick chain locks, and an electronic keypad that started up the security system. He also pulled down a gate that added another layer of protection. It had a latch on the bottom, that when pushed down, sent two iron rods into the wall on either side to secure it in place. the gate itself was made out of the thickest metal money could buy.

No one could break in unless they tried to blow the store up, and the chances of that happening were slim to none. His security system also had a perimeter monitor, so anyone that got too close would trigger a blaring alarm.

Only a fool would ignore that and still try to get in.

When he was satisfied that his store was secure, he ducked through the curtain.

The back room contained several shelves of product. By day he was a simply general store that sold food, drinks, and some essentials to ordinary people. Not many small ones existed anymore. Most had been taken over by the large warehouse stores owned by the Wolf Pack.

But Hongjoong's survived only because he was able to keep up with the insane rent he was charged. He was often asked how he was able to do that since he was such a small store, and he would smile politely and tell them that he was just a good businessman who liked to cater to the local community.

It wasn't a total lie.

Because by night, Hongjoong ran a large portion of the underground black market.

He ducked behind one shelf that had a hidden door behind it and hurried down the cement steps into a low-lit area filled with soft green and blue lights, so it wasn't too harsh on the eyes. It also kept the electric bill lower, meaning he could hide this part of his business.

There was one main, large room that was already filled with people who had been coming in all day. Most held a drink in their hands and were conversing quietly. A few shot glares at someone across the room.

But they knew the rules.

To be accepted here meant no violence, no lashing out at others, and no disruptions. The way to come out ahead was to show the color of their wallets.

As soon as Hongjoong walked in, he held his head high and let the crowd part before them. He had earned that respect. They knew he was in charge here.

Without him they would have nothing.

Silence fell over the room when he stepped onto the stage.

"Shall we begin?"

Yunho

The vibrations from the car filled him with renewed energy every time he revved the engine. It was his drug, his life, his addiction.

There was nothing else that sent his heart racing like the feeling of the complete, utter control he had over the beautiful piece of machinery he now sat inside of.

Yunho had spent years perfecting it. Every single piece was hand chosen and put together in his run-down garage.

Even the paint job was custom. He had spent hours researching the perfect combination and ingredients needed.

Now his car, lovingly name Illusion, was a machine equipped perfectly for the deadly game he now turned to in order to survive. It was the fastest car on the streets, and his paint job made it so that every angle changed the color. It could be blue, purple, red, or even a hint of burnt orange.

Yunho revved the engine and glanced out the driver side window at the black sports car sitting next to him.

The driver snarled and flipped him off.

Which only caused Yunho to laugh.

The man was a fool for challenging him. Yunho was looking forward to taking every cent he could. The bet today was high, which only told him that the man was planning on cheating somehow.

He was prepared for anything.

A girl dressed in tight shorts that left little to the imagination and a bikini top walked out in front of the two cars and lifted a flag over her head. She smirked at both drivers, then let it drop.

As soon as the corner of it touched the ground, Yunho slammed on the gas pedal and he rocketed forward.

The city lights became a blur in the corners of his vision. All Yunho focused on was the traffic around him and weaving through the cars with ease.

Horns blared behind him, but anytime someone reacted enough to honk, he was already out of their sight.

He had spent a mere thirty minutes memorizing the route for today's race. The city was his, and he knew it like the back of his hand. So while others may take an entire day to memorize the route designated for the days race so they didn't take a wrong turn and risk disqualification.

Men and women were stationed in designated buildings throughout the city to film and keep an eye on the race. That way people couple bet from home on who would win.

And bet they did.

Yunho signed up to race almost every night, and because he did, he didn't have to hold a day job. He brought in enough money from just one race that he could support himself.

Granted most of it went back into his car instead of the hovel of a home he had, but he didn't care. He didn't really live there; it was just a place to sleep.

He glanced in the rearview mirror and scoffed when he saw how far back his opponent was. It was almost pitiful. The man had been bragging about the engine he had just bought for his car but it was still no match for Yunho's.

The adrenaline covered him like a blanket and Yunho started to take more and more risks. He ran several lights, not even batting an eyelash as he swerved around several cars.

No one could stop him.

And he knew he was going to win from the moment he saw his opponent's car.

Because Yunho was the best racer on the streets.

He never lost.

Jongho

Sweat rolled down his neck, shoulders, and back at a constant enough pace that it almost felt like it was raining.

His muscles rippled from exhaustion and his chest heaved as he tried to draw in as much oxygen as he could.

There was no way he could give up now. He needed to set an example.

This was his place after all.

Cheers sounded around him and Jongho lifted his hands over his head, making the sound get louder to the point where it practically shook the building.

Then he brought one down and wiped away the trail of blood coming from his busted lip.

"Well done." He said, looking at the man standing across from him.

He was almost twice Jongho's size and was so layered in muscles that he almost looked like he was about to explode.

It was too much for Jongho's taste. He didn't feel the need to show off just how strong he was. He liked taking the stealth route and surprising his opponents.

it was also a good lesson in humility for them.

"But I'm just getting started. You won't be touching me again." He purred.

"You don't know who you're dealing with then." The man chuckled and slammed his fists together before bending over and opening up his stance.

His first mistake.

Jongho smirked and waited for him to make the second one. He kept himself relaxed and spared one glance up at a section of the wall lined with dark windows, knowing who was watching them from there.

It made his confidence soar, not that he needed it. He loved being able to show off, knowing that he would be rewarded later.

The man across from him shifted slightly and started to step forward.

Mistake number two.

Jongho jumped forward and slid across the ground. He fit perfectly between the man's legs and he made sure to slide on one of his legs so he could angle himself and stick his elbow out, connecting it with the man's sac perfectly.

His opponent groaned and fell over, cupping himself and curling up a little.

This allowed Jongho to whip around and get on top of him, punching his face several times. There would be a black eye and a swollen lip there in just a little bit.

Then he leaned back and forced his foot down so that it was pressing against the underside of the man's jaw where it met his neck, and when he put pressure on it, his head tilted back.

To secure his position, he grabbed the man's arm and wrapped his own arms around it while keeping it in a straight line.

There was no getting out of this position. With one easy motion, he could either break the man's arm or snap his neck.

A bell dinged after ten seconds and Jongho released the man. He rubbed his hands together and backed away, bowing to the crowd around him.

"Good match." Jongho held out his hand to help his opponent up. They parted ways with a bow and he disappeared into the crowd.

Several people started chanting for a new challenger.

Jongho worked to keep his breathing under control, but he couldn't deny that he could go for another fight too. He loved how powerful it made him feel, and the adrenaline was a nice plus too.

One of the ring leaders came forward holding a mic. "Well, well, well! Who wants a chance to take on the mighty Jongho? The pot just keeps getting bigger and bigger! If you win, it could be yours! Come on, there has to be someone brave enough to try."

Several people laughed.

Jongho placed his hands on his hips and looked around.

"Last chance!"

He couldn't blame them for not stepping up. Jongho had a reputation for being the strongest fighter there, but that's also why he didn't participate as much. Instead, he enjoyed watching from behind the scenes and reap the rewards.

When no one stepped forward, he bowed once more and left the ring. Either way, he would come away richer than when he had started so he didn't mind.

In this world of chaos and destruction, he did everything he could to take advantage of the lost souls who wandered in, hoping to make a quick buck and change their lives.

They were pathetic. There was no way they would be able to change the life they had made for themselves.

The only people who thrived were criminals like himself.

Yeosang

There was nothing better than the satisfaction of watching someone else's life crumble after a few keystrokes.

The satisfying clacks here music that filled the void of his life behind a computer screen, and Yeosang couldn't be happier.

His eyes flicked back and forth, absorbing all the information in front of him and telling him the best path to take in order to break into the account in front of him.

The fools thought they had such a good security system.

They couldn't be more wrong.

No one could keep Yeosang out. And the fact that they tried so hard mad him want to want to crush them even more. He would drain them of everything they owned and watch them crumble into dust.

The company owner prided himself on taking care of his employees, paying them well and giving them actual health insurance.

What a joke.

That didn't matter, so what was the point?

Yeosang scoffed at the idea of being able to visit a doctor. The few that still practiced were expensive as hell to see, so only the rich could afford to truly take care of themselves.

That's why he taught himself how to treat most wounds and look for signs of basic illnesses.

It was every man for himself.

And oh, did Yeosang take care of himself.

He pushed the sucker in his mouth to the other cheek and entered in the last code he needed, then sat back and watched as the company he had hacked into imploded from the inside.

Every single bank account was now controlled by him. All their merchandise, shipping records, business needs... Everything was his.

It was so satisfying. And the next thing he was looking forward to was the news reports. Especially when the CEO had to announce that every employee was now without a job and he had to file for bankruptcy. That would be a death sentence.

No one cared for the broke and homeless.

They were trash. Filth. Unworthy of the time and resources it would take to bring them back into society.

But not Yeosang.

He would always be taken care of. And he would always make sure to take care of the one most important to him too.

Even if it meant destroying someone else forever.

Seonghwa

"Alright, keep this quick. I have things I need to do tonight." Seonghwa said to the men situated around him.

They all nodded and chuckled before jumping over the wall and running into the crowded plaza in front of them.

Seonghwa followed close behind and lifted his gun into the air, firing it several times.

Screams erupted around him and the common folk all dropped to the ground.

"Now here is how this is going to work!" He shouted, keeping his finger on the trigger. "It's tax time! Empty your pockets and pay the Pack what you owe, you know the rules!"

His men fanned out and started jostling their hostages, ripping clothes off if they needed to in order to find wallets, purses, jewelry, anything they might find valuable.

The tax time was just a thing he liked to say. With the Wolf Pack ruling over everything, they could take what they wanted, when they wanted, and no one could really fight against them.

They held the entire region in their iron grip. No one broke the rules without the Pack being notified. And the punishment was severe.

Seonghwa looked down at a woman trembling in front of him. She was covering the back of her neck, as if that would protect her.

He crouched down and placed the barrel of his gun under her chin to force her to look at him. "Now, don't tell me you are blatantly ignoring my order, Sweetheart." He tsked at her and shook his head.

She whimpered in response and held out her purse, not even bothering to try and hide anything from him.

Seonghwa chuckled and pulled the gun back. "That's a good girl." He started to turn away, but then something sparkly caught his neck. "What's this now?"

Her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over the necklace draped against her neck. "N-No, please." She choked out.

Seonghwa adapted a fake face of worry and tilted his head. "Oh, is it precious to you? Something you just can't live without?"

The venom behind his words were thinly veiled because she closed her eyes and started to openly sob.

But that didn't matter to Seonghwa. He forced her hand out of the way and admired the brilliant, ruby necklace. The gem was real, he could tell that much by looking at it. Whoever had found it and given it a brilliant teardrop shape and it hat to be at least the size of his thumbnail. It was set in gold and hung from a thick, but delicate gold chain.

His thoughts instantly flashed to a prettier neck that the gem would look so much better around. With a wicked smirk, he leaned forward and unclasped the necklace, ignoring the pleas from the woman, and carefully pocketed the necklace.

"Thanks, love." He purred before standing back up.

The commotion was starting to die down as his men gathered what was needed. No one resisted them either, because they knew they would get a bullet to the head as punishment.

Or, if he was feeling particularly sadistic, Seonghwa like to shoot them in a place where they would bleed out, making their death slow and painful.

Which is exactly what he did when the woman tried to grab his ankle to beg for her necklace, spluttering something about how it was her grandmother's.

He didn't even need to turn around to know where to shoot her.

Absolute silence fell over the plaza after he fired his gun twice. Once while pointed at her shoulder, the other while pointed at her back.

By the way she screamed so loud her voice cracked, Seonghwa guessed he had grazed her spine.

Now she had no chance of recovering or even moving to try and get help.

Without a backward glance, Seonghwa left the square.

He had someone he needed to give a present to.

San

The cold table felt nice against his back. It soothed him and relieved the stress and tension of his tired muscles.

"Are you ready?" A gentle voice came from behind him. The woman placed a hand on his shoulder.

San just nodded and settled into himself.

He had to undergo routine check ups to make sure he was functioning properly. There was so much work that relied on him to be completed, he couldn't afford to slip up and fall ill.

A machine started to hum next to him. He found the sound relaxing.

One final time, he lifted his hand up to brush his black hair from his eyes. The green streak flashed under the lights above him and he settled in.

The woman started placing a few pads across his chest and stomach. Each one was attached to a wire that then led to a machine where she could monitor his heart and lungs. Two more were attached to his forehead.

"Relax for me, San. This won't take long."

No. Not long at all. We have work to do.

San hummed in agreement. He started to mull through all the assignments he had coming up.

Most were simple check-ups on clients, usually to collect a debt. San was the only one trusted to take care of things if they went south.

He was quick on his feet and strong.

So far there hadn't been a match for him.

The others were scared to train with him, afraid he would lose control and hurt them.

It had happened before.

You don't need to worry about them. Think about the task at hand. One of them will test you. He thinks he is powerful enough to defy us. We need to show him who is really in control.

Once more, San hummed. He did his best not to respond out loud during these sessions because it could disrupt the machine.

But they knew he was acknowledging them.

They always knew.

He let the humming of the machine take over, even when it started to feel like it was applying pressure to his head. This always happened. A slight side-effect of the scan.

Nothing to worry about. It will be over soon.

Then he could begin his missions.

Then you can have your blood.

Wooyoung

The warm water felt good. He needed it to relax his aching muscles. It rippled and flowed around him, bringing him into the only kind of comforting embrace he knew anymore.

He let the water level get higher and higher, coming up to envelope his shoulders, before he turned the stream off.

Now he could soak. And relax.

It was one of the few luxuries Wooyoung had been given.

He reached over to grab a bottle of bath oils and squeezed a little more into the water. The soft aroma of roses filled the room and he leaned back.

Pain shot through is back and he hissed, tensing for a moment until it passed.

Once it did, he could sit back fully and close his eyes.

That way he wouldn't have to see the marks and scars that dotted his skin. Or the chain that was draped over the side of the tub and attached to a pole in the other room.

His punishment for trying to escape one too many times.

Now he wasn't allowed to even leave his room. He had to be ready. Always.

Wooyoung let out a sigh and tried to rotate his neck a little to get more comfortable. But it was really hard to do so with the leather collar that was basically a second skin to him now.

Every day he tried to think about what he did to deserve this. And every day he came up with the same answer...

It was what fate had decided for him.

There was no way to escape it or change anything.

He was forever going to be a prisoner here. Forced to serve whenever called upon.

The only time he could escape was when he dreamed at night, if he wasn't plagued by nightmares. That happened more often than when he dreamed...

But when he did, it was a life far away from here. No chains. No locks. No pain. No Master.

And there was always one face that went with him.

Most of the time it was a small house deep in the country where he could feel the grass between his toes and feel the sun on his face.

And a strong pair of arms around his waist.

Wooyoung held onto those dreams with every ounce of strength he needed to keep them in his mind's eye. They were his escape. His paradise.

Utopia.

One day... They had to come true one day.

Right?

A tear rolled down his cheek that Wooyoung swiped away immediately. He couldn't show any emotions now. Crying was a sign of weakness and being weak meant being punished.

No... He needed to stay strong in order to survive.

He would do what needed to be done so that he could survive. Because that's what he was. No matter how much suffering Wooyoung had been through, he would always do everything he could to survive.

All the pain, all the crying... He would get through this.

His body may be broken down and put back together over and over, but his soul...

His soul would remain bulletproof.