There was a thrill to gambling, that none of his thoroughbred cousins would ever understand. For the rich chaebols of Korea, the duty of social grace and reputation ruled over gold. And well, Lee Mo-Ri was doomed over that from his birth alone, his very bastard existence a stain on that shiny silver reputation. He could get into it, moan and whine about his wretched childhood, the mommy and daddy issues- But there was no need to think of the past when he could be playing Blackjack at a random casino and fork in cash on cash, drug on booze. It was a filthy life for a filthy man, just right.

He licked his lips a little, tasting blood as a sharp cackle escaped him, wiping his nose with the back of his palm, watching with a smug amusement at how the other got dragged out of the establishment, no matter it was Mo-ri that started the fight. Being a bastard and a shame might have fucked him up a little, but it certainty didn't mean he didn't have benefits off the name. He was a VIP in every casino in the Gangwon province. Every month his "family" sent in money with the implied detail of staying out of the public eye, and he indulged in it, like every hedonistic thing he did. He wasn't even a homeless bum, just a leech that had been reluctantly hired in by the gang his fancy little cousin worked at. Right hand too last he heard. Good all nepotism.

It wasn't like he needed to do much anyways. Long as he kept showing off the prominent tattoos across his arms like branding, the one's too gaudy for the higher ups in Taesan, he was doing half his job. Every win at the table was a win for the gang. Just made the stakes higher, and that only made gambling more fun. He craved the feeling that it gave in his gut, the adrenaline rush as he won and watched the despair in other's eyes. He was cocky and brutish and he knew it. His eye's flicked over when someone approached him.

"Yeah? You wanna go too? I wouldn't mind seeing you under me, but, I'd rather play another round. You game?" His lips curled up, mocking.