CHAPTER FOUR
Face to Face | 면 대면

⚘( ၴႅၴ

Crystal was organizing papers. And when she heard the door opened, her eyes looked up from her reading glasses, but didn't stop how she organized her papers. Then eyes moved back to her task. 

Gun walked towards her with his other hand on his pocket. The same neutral expression on his face. Crystal didn't know why he was here, although she looked unbothered from the outside, she was still concerned of what he could be after. It was Gun after all, and the gangster didn't come in contact with her, his "princess", unless he was being her guard or helping her train-- all in the name of the chairman.

"Whats up." Crystal raised a brow.

There was still so much to be done with the streaming industry.

"Whats up? Do you know why your father sent you to a Forrest?" 

Now that he says that, Crystal was beginning to see why Gun was so concerned, (not for her but what made the cogs in Charles turn to make him do that) and more so, a girl her age with an unusual and surprising visuals was seen with her when the time Gun have allotted her had stopped.

If it weren't for the black printed t-shirts and guitar, they would've thought you were an ethereal creature in those forest that were luring Crystal down to its depths.

"Ugh," Crystal groaned. "I don't know either. Maybe its got something to do with y/n since she was the only one there." Yeah... Its was as if she was resented like a pearl on a shell. She was signing her hearts out in the heart of the dragon. But why?

"Your father might have an interest on that girl you've found in there." Gun concluded.

"Figured." Crystal's train of thought. "He's afraid of her."

Crystal stopped her papers, and closed her eyes. the thought feared her. And its only the moment she realized that. there was no beat, no melody. It was all one single thought that left her disassociated with her work as she took off her glasses and set down her papers in their own files. Gun watched as it seemed like a switch have turned on in her. 

Gun never thought that Crystal would so much cared. Her determination to hate good-looking people wasn't burning, but a block of ice.

Ice.

That was her gaze when he first met her. 

You could say Gun have already met the girl in the forest far before he saw her in the arms of his princess.

"Okay then," gun started, lighting a cigarette. "Because..."

"What?" Crystal squinted her eyes, specifically at the smoke that came from the tip of the straw.

"That's what he told me, I am not to disclose anything else other than that." Gun mumbled.

That pissed Crystal off, but she still has her poise, her intel, with every maze-like conversations she have to be accustomed to, she have to navigate it-- because that's how she was raised. That's how it was meant to be from this point on. There's nothing else much more higher than her position right now, and she could say that if she were Icarus, the story would write itself as sure as day. 

Crystal knew. Before she became a Choi.

"You're kidding." She said so, letting some of what she really feels inside to Gun. 

Honestly she wasn't afraid of Gun. He was but a dog hungry for power. Not the power like her or her adopted dad wants, not what the governement or all her employees in the streaming industry want, and not what the gangsters that Gun would be beating about in the streats want. Gun wanted that raw, free power. a power that is rid from all materialistic gain but also know no bounds. 

That's why he came to Japan in the first place. It was close as he can get until he was frustrated by the fact that he can't find the one there. It has the be Korea, the centerpiece of his chess board.

"When did I ever. And I have no care for any of those. I never did." Gun said matter of factually, like it was second nature. It rolled off his tongue like nothing.

"Let me call her then."

--

"And that's why I'm riding you to the place?"

you asked, with two's bluetooth helmet on and the new motorcycle that Crystal have given you. It was a CFMOTO 45, and it has that sweet roar added, honestly she never thought that Crystal would think this was fitting for her character. After all these years, you were still curious as to what Crystal thought of you, and from the first clue, she might think that you are some rebellious, adventurous asshole. 

Which she is correct to.

Except for the fact that she is not as flamboyant as the design to this chick magnet of a ride. And it was already working. She has a chick on the back of her motor right now.

A fucking chicken.

"Yeah," She said through the speaker of the helmet. Sighing through. "I'm sorry it seems to be an abrupt meeting but I need to have you a good impression on my dad. I don't know what he'll do."

"Charles Choi?"

"You know him?"

Why?

Of course she knew him. Through every echoes on the street, or the whispers at the back of her neck. He was one of the people that was interconnected with a past she have never wanted to relieve. 

And yet it haunts her every nightmare. To what extend shall she go before the nightmare that is that day, would leave her to dream another dream? 

Although, it was inevitable. Every blink in the night, she could see the shadow of the moments passed, the dead and broken, the screams  and guns blaring. 

After that, she couldn't embrace night with open arms. 

That's why she was an insomniac.

 "Let's just say he's a famous chairman."

They know each other? Crystal thought. After all this years, Crystal may not know who you were in a long long time. But to a promise of closure in the back of her mind. All this time. There was still that vivid memory of you and her. And with a promise like that, how could she forget you?

And that tone, that tone spoke of knowing. 

She laughed internally. and after all these years, she still know you like the back of her mind.

"Can you tell me why he wants to meet me?" You asked, turning on another alley.

"I can only guess." Crystal shrugged, even though you couldn't see. "I usually don't face my dad. He's usually the one asking me for my presence. And Gun would be the one to deliver that message. But..."

"You care about meee..." 

"Shut up."

"I know how to push your buttons."

"Yes you do."

You stopped your motor bike and parked in the largest building she have ever seen. She only pass by it on her daily walks. To smell the fresh morning of Korea.

"Whatever you do." Crystal whispered, wary. "Don't provoke them."

"Who?" You knew who. 

"You'll see."

Let's just say that didn't bode well for you.

Both of you went inside the building. 

It didn't look corporate.

The building felt like a case of mistaken identity. Outside, it sported the sharp lines and cool demeanor of a skyscraper, but inside, it radiated a cozy, lived-in vibe with the cream colored walls and the green of the plants, also the smell of coffe. the only things that weren't out of place (but were actually the ones out of place because of the aesthetic of the room) was the water dispensers that were spread throughout the hallways. 

Crystal told you that most of these doors lead to empty rooms.

You would then reply it was a poor use of them. But what can you say, you don't live in a skyscraper.

"You have this all to yourself? Nice!" You said a smile on your face.

You two took the elevator and walked to Crystal's office, which you were impressed by from the look of the door at the end of the hall that looked like ancient greek. As if it was the bedroom of Zeus.

She opened the door and revealed a room with a wall of a window. You could see the whole city. It was one of the perks on having a tall building. You still weren't convinced thought. 

"Occupy yourself." Crystal sad on her desk. Where she and Gun have taken that conversation before.

"So why am I here exactly?" you took a shot in asking the question again. It was one and a one time where she would be this serious. Like there was a line of danger that they haven't crossed but setting a toe in. And that seemed to have made Crystal nervous.

"I'm just going to find the list of people who will be at the party."

–

These four crews... they're like toddlers playing with firecrackers. Scattered, loud, and ultimately harmless. Sure, they cause trouble, but they lack the teeth to truly bite. But that could change. Maybe it's time to give them a little push. A nudge in the right direction, you could say. Let them clash, test their limits. The stronger ones will rise, the weak ones will crumble. That's how things get interesting.

"There's nothing i could do with the current situation. Nor do I plan to."

"I though you want someone to wrecked it all. Why can't you do it." Goo said drinking strawberry milk and staring off into nothing while walking towards Crystal's room. He was swingin his arms, sporting a yellow blazer with matching pants, white sparkly shoes and gelled up hair. 

"That's not mine to tell. And besides... its fun this way." Gun said. Although he doesn't even know why he's even talking to this piece of shit.

Goo stopped his goofy walk and turned his head at gun, who was looking straight to where they're heading. Goo's face morphed into something disturbed.

"What the... such a sadist." 

Swinging the door open, both found Crystal and another girl sprawled on the couch, a video game controller clutched in each of their hands. The newcomer, with an emo vibe and a hint of mischief in her eyes, glanced up at them as they entered.

"You're the one who is at the forest."

"And you're that ass hat who tried to make a special moment be quick. Nice to meet you, such a pleasure." You grinned. 

She wasn't shy to hide it.

Immediately, Goo jumped at the opportunity. There was no limit to what Goo will go through this.

"My name's Goo!"

His thought process is basically this, if she was with Crystal, then that means she's close to the boss. If she's close to the boss, there won't be a problem being in a relationship with her because it won't be like Romeo and Juliet!

Amazing Goo, that's such a nice train of thought.

I hope that train of thought will ram you over in the head. 

 "Gun, what the fuck, you didn't tell me-" He tried to get a flirt in but he was interrupted.

"Okay, you're here." Crystal face palmed in the corner. It was starting to get very loud inside her office and she wasn't used to it.

You pointed a thumb at Gun. "Him? He's the one we're waiting for?" 

"I agree with her statement." Gun responded turning to Crystal.

Crystal could see some similarities they have. And to which it irked her in the slightest. There's nothing annoying than a second Gun. But well, how could she insult you that much?

Crystal stood up. "I can't go out of this building without my body guard." 

"And it's my apology that a stray dog is here." Gun bowed slightly with a sigh.

Goo couldn't register what Gun said.

"What—"

"Its fine, lets go." They all exited the room but without how Gun heard you, (who decided to be at the back of the group and was the last one to move to stand up)

"I could be your bodyguard..." You muttered.

No one seemed to hear this but Gun.

Gun raised his brows at this.

-

The air hums with a constant low buzz. Music drifts from various stores, blending with the murmur of conversations and the rhythmic tapping of footsteps. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the sweet aroma of popcorn and the occasional whiff of perfume.

And it felt it was all going to fast. Why was she at the mall? And why the fuck is Gun with them? And what is Goo doing at the female section- Nevermind. It was too much for your sensort to een comprehend the complexity of this stupidity.

"What is this?" You asked with a hunched back as Crystal was raising two hangers with dresses hanged.

"We are going shopping, what do you think?" She said, not even glancing back. 

"I thought we're going to—..." Realization hit you like a splash of cold water. "Oh..."

This is what she was talking about in the beginning.

And like hell does she want a fucking dress.

She've seen her taste, although it looked fitting on Crystal,you don't know if it was fitting on you. Crystal was in the fashion department at her college, but you don't trust people all that much in providing you your taste for you.

"Come on, what's the wait?" Crystal shrugs with the two hangers on her hand, finally turning to you with a soft smile. Behind those smile were the grin of a devil and you weren't taking it one bit.

"I don't think—" You raised your hand to surrender.

Ultimately you hae failed in defending yourself. 

They put on anything they can find. And they didn't find anything that suited her.

"You do know I do have school tomorrow--"

"Cut."

"The fuck... sigh."

Why does this girl scare Charles?

Gun and you leaned against the opposite wall, a comfortable silence settling between you. Across the vast expanse of the fashion department, Crystal flitted between clothing racks, a whirlwind of movement in a sea of vibrant fabrics. This was her natural habitat - the rhythmic whoosh of clothes being pulled aside, the thoughtful tilt of her head as she inspected a garment, the satisfied smile when she found a treasure. It was a familiar routine, one you'd witnessed countless times before.

"You're... Gun Park...? The Shiro Oni?" You mumbled as you slid down the wall and crossed your arms above your knees.

"I see you know me."

"It isn't really that hard, but when you're the one who decided to kill thousands from the fire tigers, I don't think I'll have the opportunity to miss it."

"You do not possess anything. How did you get that close to that confidential information?" Gun's brows was furrowed and now head facing the girl on his feet.

There was a thought: he could easily kick her through the next store in this position.

"I shouldn't be underestimated. I bet that I could land a hit."

You stole a glance at Gun, his jaw clenched tight, eyes narrowed as he watched Crystal. You could practically feel the tension radiating off him, a storm brewing beneath the surface. What was he thinking? Was he worried about Crystal's choices? Or was something else entirely on his mind?

Crystal chimed in.

"Marcy! there's this perfect dress! you should go try it out."

You sighed. "Sure."

"Eat it, sucker."

"What was that?" You glared at Gun.

"Nothing."

Could you use him? A pawn in your final gambit, a weapon against the enemy? The thought was enticing, promising a powerful ally. But the risk was immense. Getting close to Gun meant entering a dangerous game, one with potentially disastrous consequences. The alternative, facing that place alone, was a terrifying prospect.

You clenched your jaw, frustration gnawing at you. A deep breath did little to calm the storm within. Stealing a glance at Gun, you searched for any tell, any glimpse of his true agenda. His face remained a mask, mirroring your own turmoil. A decision loomed, and the clock was ticking.

They moved to the counter.

A shiver ran down your spine as you witnessed Gun lean in and murmur something to Goo. Goo's response was a slow, teasing smile that stretched a little too wide, sending shivers down your spine in a completely different way. It was a smile that oozed an unsettling kind of allure, laced with a hint of creepiness. He punctuated the smile with a playful thumbs-up, and for a fleeting moment, you swore you saw Gun visibly recoil.

rystal grabbed the bags, "Let's go!"

When they stepped out of the mall, the cool air offered no relief. The weight of her churning thoughts followed her.

Gun's voice cut through the tense silence. "Crystal," he started, his tone clipped, "an unexpected situation has come up regarding the diamond acquisition . It would be best if you headed out with Goo to handle it immediately."

Crystal's eyes narrowed. "Huh? All of a sudden? Everything seemed under control with the shipment arrival this morning."

A flicker of annoyance crossed Gun's face. "Trust me," he said, his voice low, "this is important. Don't question it. There are rumors of a rival group intercepting the shipment at the docks."

Goo, usually lighthearted, seemed unusually tense. He muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible but his shadowed gaze fixed on Gun, "Ugh, you always pull this last minute stuff. No wonder Crystal hates you for it."

He then turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eye despite the tension. "Since she's stuck dealing with your mess, Y/n, maybe you can give Gun a beatdown for me, huh?"

On it.

"Don't," Crystal said as she opened the door to the car. "Are you sure you're going to be okay with Gun?"

"Do you even know me?"

"Do you even know me?"

Crystal rolled her eyes with a sigh. "Sure, sure. Have a blast you two..."

Marcy grumbled, a low growl escaping her throat. "Yeah, right," she thought, her eyes narrowing. Crossing her arms did little to quell the simmering anger beneath her skin. This wasn't over.

Before another word could be exchanged, a blur of motion filled your vision. Gun was on you, a fist aimed for your jaw. You reacted instinctively, tilting your head just enough to avoid the blow. The force of his missed punch sent a gust of wind past your ear.

Capitalizing on the opening, you lashed out with a leg sweep, aiming to knock him off balance. Gun, however, was a seasoned fighter. He anticipated the move, twisting his body to absorb the impact. The momentum from your kick carried you past him, momentarily off-center. Spinning on your heel, you brought your elbow up in a sharp block, deflecting a powerful right hook aimed at your temple. The metallic clang echoed in the otherwise silent space. This wasn't a brawl; it was a calculated dance of offense and defense.

You pressed your advantage, launching a series of quick jabs aimed at Gun's pressure points. He grunted in annoyance, deflecting most of the blows with his forearms. But one found its mark, landing squarely on his bicep. A flicker of pain crossed his face for a split second, a testament to your accuracy.

A cruel smile stretched across Gun's face. "You're that girl," he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.

Your eyes narrowed. "Good thing you remembered, you son of a bitch," you spat, your voice laced with venom. Years of pent-up anger surged through you, a dam finally bursting.

Gun scoffed. "I have to admit," he said, circling you like a predator, "I never expected you to grow this strong."

The comment sparked a fresh wave of fury. You lunged at him, a flying side-kick aimed for his chest. He barely blocked it with his forearm, the force sending him staggering back a step.

He recovered quickly, launching a counter-attack. His fist whistled through the air, but you ducked, the air ruffling your hair. You swept your leg out, aiming to trip him, but he anticipated it, jumping over your attack.

Gritting your teeth, you ignored the throbbing pain. You wouldn't let him break you. 

The air crackled with tension.

"I never held any grudges against you, Gun," you growled, each word a punch in itself. "But I couldn't stand by and watch you pull your illegal crap anymore."

Gun scoffed. "Don't delude yourself into playing the hero, kid."

"It's not about being a hero," you retorted, your voice rising. "It's about basic decency! Society deems destruction as a flaw, and you revel in it."

He smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Different perspectives don't equate to flaws. You can't be defective for simply having a different viewpoint."

"That's easy for you to say," you spat, launching into a series of swift, precise attacks. This wasn't brawling; it was a calculated dance you'd honed for years, a secret style honed from... well, that was a secret you'd take to the grave.

Gun, surprised by your skill, barely managed to block your blows. "Where did you learn to fight like that?" he demanded, a hint of respect lacing his voice.

You offered a tight smile. "Let's just say you wouldn't want to know."

Gun's smirk faltered. "And if I told you I don't like the direction this fight is heading?"

A single word hung heavy in the air.

"As you should."

Gun's smirk evaporated as you pressed the attack. He'd underestimated you – your blows were precise, economical, and landed with surprising force. You weren't just defending yourself; you were exploiting openings, countering his aggression with calculated movements. This wasn't raw power; it was the strategic mind of a warrior honed in a different kind of battle.

A sharp, calculating gaze locked with his – a hunter sizing up its prey. Then, with a swift maneuver you'd never attempted in this city's tame brawls, you landed a solid punch to Gun's jaw. The satisfying crack echoed in the tense silence.

Gun stumbled back, a hand flying to his reddening jaw. Years of city brawls had left their mark on his body – bruises faded, scars etched in his skin. But your fighting style was different. It spoke of focused training, a disciplined mind directing every movement.

Confusion flickered in his eyes. You weren't just another city punk, fueled by rage. This was something else entirely, something he'd never encountered before. The predator had become the prey, caught in the web of your calculated assault. There was a newfound fire in your eyes, a burning determination that transcended the anger fueling the fight. And Gun, for the first time, felt a sliver of fear snake its way through him.

In this fight, at the first blow you landed on Gun's jaw, something shifted within you. It wasn't just rage fueling your movements anymore. It was a primal awareness, a heightened sense of every sound, every movement, every fiber of your being. You were experiencing life with an intensity you'd never known before.

Somehow, even through his sunglasses, Gun saw it. You saw a flicker of surprise, a recognition in his eyes that something was different about you now.

But the feeling was fleeting. As quickly as it flared, it subsided. You landed a final blow, connecting with a satisfying thud. Gun's sunglasses clattered to the ground, revealing his wide, shocked eyes.

He skidded back on the pavement, clutching his jaw. You, despite the dull ache in your own body, wiped the blood from your split lip and limped forward. Gun, however, remained frozen, his gaze fixed on something off to the side. You weren't sure if he was stunned, scared, or simply trying to process the unexpected turn of events. The air hung heavy with a new kind of tension, one laced with a strange sense of awakening.

"If I were you," you spat, the metallic tang of blood coating your words, "you'd learn my damn name. Asshole."

Gun remained standing, though a slight tremor ran through his hand as it cradled his injured jaw. He wasn't fazed by your threat, not entirely. But the raw power unleashed within you, the way you moved, fought, it seemed to have him under a spell. His gaze locked onto you, a predator mesmerized by a sudden display of fangs from its prey.

"Incredible," he murmured, the word laced with a strange mix of awe and something darker, a hunger perhaps. You weren't just a nuisance anymore, you were a revelation, a challenge he couldn't ignore.

Despite the bruises blossoming across his face and the way his chest heaved with ragged breaths, Gun remained a formidable figure. His stance, though slightly weakened, held a defiant edge. It was clear – this fight wasn't over yet.

But what truly sent shivers down your spine was the flicker of recognition in his eyes, a flicker that morphed into a question you both knew the answer to: What happened?

The answer was a story buried deep in years of violence and buried memories. You were the White Ghost, the one who defied him long ago, the one who landed the first blow on the infamous assassin. Back then, Gun was a whirlwind of destruction, an unstoppable force. You weren't sure if he was a monster on a leash or a monster unleashed.

But you, you were different. You were the anomaly. Back then, you were also the first woman to ever spark an interest in Gun. An interest that quickly turned to something far more twisted – a twisted respect fueled by the challenge you presented.

Now, years later, that same flicker of interest ignited in his gaze. But this time, it was laced with a new element – fear. The fear of facing a worthy opponent, the fear of being dethroned.

You stood there, battered but unbroken, the weight of the past crashing down on you. The fight had awakened something within you, a primal ferocity you never knew existed. And across from you stood Gun, a monster awakened from his slumber, ready to reclaim his dominance. The air crackled with unspoken threats, the promise of a battle that transcended the physical. It was a battle for power, for survival, and for something more – a twisted dance of a forgotten interest and a rekindled rivalry.

You spat the grit from your lip, glaring at Gun. "What? Spit it out, Gun. I don't intend on giving you the satisfaction of seeing me surrender. Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

He wiped a trickle of blood from his jaw, a strange sight given the unsettling smile playing on his lips. It was a smile that didn't reach his eyes, a predator admiring its prey.

"You're a fighter," he chuckled, a humorless sound. "Just as impressive now as you were back then."

You bristled. "Hey, I'm not playing around, you – "

"Relax," he interrupted, his voice dripping with amusement. "You're exactly what I remember – strong, defiant. Even battered and bruised, you hold yourself like a queen."

His gaze drifted over your injuries, a flicker of something... respect? "You're smart. You have eyes that miss nothing."

Repulsion curdled in your stomach. "Are you in love with me or something? This is messed up, ew."

"Love?" he scoffed, amusement hardening into a cold glint. "No, nothing so cliché. But you're interesting, a challenge. Right now, we don't have time for this dance."

He reached up, gingerly retrieving his sunglasses and slipping them back on. The playful facade vanished, replaced by a cold professionalism.

"I need someone to find the Alban," he stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "Someone expendable, someone who wouldn't be missed."

The truth hit you like a sucker punch. He hadn't been toying with you out of some twisted affection; you were just a pawn in his game. A pawn he was now discarding.

"An apple thrown away," you muttered, the disgust evident in your voice.

"Exactly," he said, a hint of his earlier amusement returning. "But a resourceful apple gets home nonetheless. Consider this a ride home, courtesy of Gun."

You crossed your arms, refusing his offer. "I can manage, thanks."

He shrugged, a flicker of something like disappointment crossing his features. "At least I offered," he said, sliding into his car.

The engine roared to life, and with a final, smug grin in your direction, he peeled away.

You watched him go, a storm of emotions warring within you. Disgust, anger, and a strange sense of... anticipation?

"Ugh," you muttered, the disgust winning for the moment.

But as you turned to walk away, a single thought echoed in your mind: This wasn't over. The next time Gun crossed your path, you were ready. You wouldn't be a pawn – you'd be the one calling the shots.

________________________________

A / n — Tell me if there's any grammstical mistakes, thank you for reading !