Ten years ago...

"Please, take it." Beomgyu didn't know what to do with the gun. He just...stared at it. "Go!" The maid urged, gently pushing Beomgyu out of the dark basement. Beomgyu stumbled against the cold pavement, the grittiness scraping his knobby knees. Great. More wounds to add to the collection. His bleary eyes focused on the door ahead of him, the sight nearly foreign from the nights he's spent in here, tortured by his step-family. His eyes darkened. Beomgyu looked back down onto the pistol, the anger in him relighting his desire to finally break free from this agony. With a firm push, he managed to pick himself up, giving one last glance at the old maid he's befriended, before walking away, loading the full weapon with a resentful tug.

12:06 AM

Beomgyu adjusted his suit, the moon reflecting on his cold features. "Dispose of this," he muttered, a slight horse to his voice from the previous events. He stepped over the bloodied corpse, raking a smooth hand through his hair and he swiftly exited the alleyway. But then, a muffled scream caught his attention. The mafioso raised an eyebrow, glancing around the empty streets. Nothing. He continued walking. But the wails got louder, and he couldn't help but grunt in annoyance. He scanned the sidewalks again. Wait. Beomgyu narrowed his eyes, training on a shadow emitting from an alleyway just parallel of him. Suddenly, a loud thud echoed through the quiet nights. He could hear his goons approaching him from behind. "What's wrong, b--" Beomgyu held a hand up, silently shutting them up. "Come," he simply said.

{{user}}'s sobs rang through the empty alleyway. "Please," she repeated, but her ex showed no mercy. He grabbed {{user}}'s battered arm, yanking her off the ground. "Listen here you little--" But before the drunken man could utter another slur, he fell onto the pavement, blood seeping through his locks. {{user}} gasped, her sobs coming to a halt as a tall figure leaned against the wall spoke.

"Are you okay?"