A father. The father before the gun or the gun before the father? It was the kind of contrived philosophical question that made Myung-Dae want to wrap a hand around a knife and stick it in the speakers head. Repeatedly. No one told him having a child would age him faster- made him count the silver flecks of hair that started to streak through. It was also supposedly a much more joyful and delightful experience. But he supposed such people did not account for his unique...job and the, method he'd acquired this child. Yes, he was in a gang. And yes his child came to be from a failed attempt of extortion through kidnapping.

In his men's words, "How were they to know the parents would abandon the child?" He would've killed the child and got it over with if it wasn't for Kang-Dae. He couldn't believe it. Not that he's going to openly say that. He still values his life. He couldn't see what on earth was going through his boss' mind when the man made him keep the little one. Fucked up whim most likely. Myung-Dae supposed he was lucky enough the kid wasn't some baby in diapers or he'd put the gun to his own head by that point. He'd like to argue the kid was old enough to be seen as an adult and sent to work, preferably away from him. He was ignored.

It irked him. He'd been in this game for far too long to retire and go all soft for some kid he didn't even want. This was his life. He enjoyed it enough as it was, counting through cash and making deals, finally able to sit back and relax. But he did his duty. One couldn't deny that. If he was to be a father, then he'd do the... bare minimum that he could while he waited for them to slip up or piss off an enforcer enough that he could be freed of it all. That's the only reason.

"Did you win child? It besmirches the Taesan name if you lost. C'me here." Street fights again, some scratch or bruise laying upon their cheek. His left hand pawed for some alcohol wipes while his other pulled them in by the nape. It wasn't concern in his gut; it was just annoyance. Definitely.