Seoul used to feel so big
now it feels so small

If I had questioned it before, I could see that the power held by the manager was obvious now.

Jungkook wasn't even seated at the head of the room, and there was nothing strict about the way he held himself, but I could see his leadership in every movement he made. The slight distance between his knees, the curve to his wrist that rested on one, the bare tilt to his head as he surveyed the room.

Yeah, he was the manager, all right.

We were at the Dragon's Tail, and the light outside was already dying. Gold and orange was fading to the violet of a bruise. The atmosphere was almost asphyxiating, like the multiple storeys above us were going to collapse any moment.

The place was still half-empty, the amount of racers not being enough to fill in the spacious room. Taeyong still wasn't there, even though his leg was almost fully healed. I still didn't know his role in the gang, and though it shouldn't have been a question of doubt, but that was the direction my mind had decided to take.

He obviously had a connection with Jungkook, though I didn't know in what context. There was something between then that I didn't know about. Maybe no one did. I couldn't help but wonder if the manager's absence had been the reason he was always so worked up and angry, but every thought felt like my mind was doing the only thing it could possible do—grasp at straws.

Taehyung and Jinyoung were still talking quietly in one corner, probably discussing the next move of the bikers. No one seemed particularly affected by the news of Baekhyun's death, which made me wonder how many people they had lost to the life of crime.

I, on the other hand, hadn't taken it too well.

The news had come as a shock, even though I had sort-of expected that when we had missed him for a few days. Baekhyun had been a pillar of support, the one with the plan, probably the only one out of the racers whom I could fully trust.

His death had been the one thing needed to push me over the edge. During the time I had spent here, I had been the opposite of uncaring and outspoken. Now, however, it was as if Baekhyun's murder had dragged the beast out of my mind. I barely cared as I sat there, staring at the young manager, daring him to speak to me.

Murder.

Baekhyun had been murdered, that was unquestionable. A bullet wound on his forehead implied that it had been fast, so the attacker probably either didn't care enough about him to drag out the pain, or cared about himself so as to not do more than what was necessary.

Curiously, I let my gaze wander around the mismatched group. None of them knew about me leaving, except Taeyong, who wasn't present. If they had, nothing would be stopping then from confronting me about it.

Jinyoung and Taehyung were killers, probably bred that way. Baekhyun's death couldn't have been their doing. They would have enjoyed torture way too much.

Jennie was cold, but businesslike. She didn't seem like the kind of person who would want blood on them. As far as I knew, she was in this for the deals more than anything else. Seulgi was a dealer, from the look of it, and as much as I distrusted her, I couldn't peg her for a cold-blooded killer.

Minhyuk, Jimin? Or even Vernon? No, they had an alibi. The body had been found a few days after the race, so Baekhyun must have been dead for some time before they got to him.

In all probability, it wasn't the racers. They were more of a team, and even though their activities were largely confined to one person, killing someone was news that spread quickly. If one of them had shot Baekhyun, the rest would have been in on it.

Unless the killer was someone separated from the group.

The blood that flowed in my veins felt icy as I thought about the requirements to be fulfilled by the killer. Be away from the racers. Check. To have an unmistakable alibi, which, coincidentally, could only be confirmed by one person. Check. To have known about me leaving.

Check.

As the new thought struck me, I looked up, only to find Jungkook's eyes trained on me. His expression was flat, but there was something flickering behind his dark irises, that spoke of knowledge and curiosity.

Taeyong was the only one who ticked off all the boxes.

What had he talked about with Jungkook? There was no way to know either that or if he had really been inside the hospital all this time. As far as I knew, the injury to his leg wasn't that serious. The fact that he wasn't present at the assemblage only served to add to my steadily growing doubt.

I felt guilty for thinking that way, but I couldn't help but keep thinking about all the blanks that could only be filled by him. The manager's right hand, the one person no one knew much about but still respected to an extent.

What if?

"You were with Baekhyun most of the time, right?" Jimin asked, making me turn towards him. "Did he talk about his assumptions about the bikers' plans or anything?"

I frowned. The surveillance idea had gone down the drain the moment someone had put a bullet through Baekhyun's skull, but I still wasn't used to having eyes on me. "The leader was in Suwon the last time he was spotted, so he must have sent forward the other bikers to kill me."

Even saying the words made my skin crawl. Because of all that had happened in the last few days, my mind had been taken off the pressing issue at hand: the bikers. I couldn't say it had been pleasant while it had lasted.

"It's been a long time since you got shot, so they might just be waiting for the perfect moment to attack, as cheesy as it sounds," Jimin muttered, folding his arms over his chest. "They probably want to wipe us all out, and this is the best chance they have."

"What if they were the ones who blew Byun's brains out?" Taehyung questioned, voice muffled because of the chain that dangled from his mouth. "That could mean they're already here."

As earlier, no one seemed affected by his choice of words, but I winced. Blew his brains out. I wondered if that was going to happen to me anytime soon.

"We don't know if the leader's going to come up to Seoul just for her," Vernon spoke up, looking troubled. "Maybe it's the same person who tried to kill her the first time."

Ah. Right. They still didn't know why I was running from the bikers or who the person who had shot me was. This only added to my confusion about Taeyong. I felt guilt creep up at the thought, especially because he had been injured after I'd argued with him, and that was the last thing I needed at the moment.

"Or it could be someone else," Jennie said. Her tone, as usual, was brisk and official, but her expression he darkened considerably. "Baekhyun has pissed off important people in the past, some that he didn't even know about. This could be completely unrelated to the matter at hand."

"Too well-timed," Jimin said, shaking his head. "Baekhyun was always a careful person. It could have been someone he trusted."

Jinyoung arched an eyebrow. "You think he was still in touch with the bikers?"

The room fell deadly quiet. Even Seulgi, who had earlier looked like she wasn't paying attention, was now staring at him with scrutiny in her eyes. I didn't blame her—the question was too controversial to be laughed off, and too believable to be ignored.

However, I couldn't believe that.

"I don't think that's possible," I spoke up, my voice, though, low, carrying in the quietude of the room. I didn't know why I felt the need to defend Baekhyun, even in death, but somewhere along the line I had grown to truly trust him.

"Right." Taehyung scoffed, unclenching his teeth so that the chain dropped back to his chest, catching and reflecting the sunlight from the window. "You would trust an ex-member of your gang, Hwang."

It wasn't the fact that he didn't believe me that pissed me off, it was the way he had said it. I rose to my feet, locking eyes—and mentally, horns—with him.

"Don't call me that," I snapped.

Taehyung's eyes still glittered with faint amusement, but Seulgi cut in before he could speak up. "What's in a name?" She raised her eyebrows, not looking up from her nails.

"Too much," Vernon muttered under his breath.

"All right." Jungkook spoke up as I turned to Vernon in surprise, but he only offered me a wry smile before turning his attention back to the manager. Jungkook pushed off of the wall he had been leaning against, and everyone straightened. "Byun Baekhyun isn't what's important right now. Focus."

Though I didn't agree with him, I backed down. His voice radiated authority, like he had been doing this work for years and knew what he was supposed to be looking at.

"The main aim of the wolves is her," he said, jerking his chin towards me. "Since they've always worked as a pack, they probably won't stay divided long enough." He focused on me. "And if you've done something unforgivable, they're going to use all their resources to find you out."

Unbelievably, everyone listened to him. There was nothing he said that I didn't already know, but the words hadn't been spoken out aloud before. It felt final, like he was laying all the pieces on the table so we could put them together in a way that actually made sense.

He's including everyone, I thought grudgingly.

"When will they be done waiting for the perfect moment to attack?" Jennie asked.

"When everyone they need to eliminate is at one place," Vernon answered, looking thoughtful. "It'll be easier for them since there will be no loose ends."

Somehow, I had managed to involve everyone around me into the chase. The racers had been tied to me the moment I had stepped onto the track, which meant that my fate was now theirs. There was only one thing that I couldn't comprehend, the only question that prevented this arrangement from coming together.

What was stopping them from throwing me to the wolves?

"There have been a lot of times we've been together," Jimin countered. "The Dragon's Tail, almost all the time. Downtown. The bar. The track, or maybe that's how they got Taeyong..."

Something was missing. Something was keeping the leader back in Sewon when he could've taken us out with no problem.

A missing piece.

"No, they couldn't have," I said, as slow realization struck, and everyone looked at me. "Because at all of those places, we weren't together."

The awareness that spread across Vernon's face was almost palpable, his expression loosening and the mask falling for a split second to give way for shock.

"The manager," he breathed. "But then—"

The breaking glass interrupted him mid-sentence, looking like a fountain of ice. The racers broke away from the crowd, and my eyes widened as the second bullet broke through the window.

Before I could move, Vernon was at my side, his grip tightening on my upper arm. "Go," he said through gritted teeth, pushing me in the direction of the door. I stumbled, catching wild glimpses as I looked—the glint of a gun, the sound of footsteps.

I turned and ran.