The cold draft of wind gently toyed with a strand of Apollo's hair. His hand, resting comfortably on the couch, rose instinctively to brush it back into place.
"I should really cut it," he thought, seated in what was easily the most luxurious sofa he'd ever sat on—inside a karaoke bar, no less. The room glowed with flashy light sources, each casting colorful beams that bounced off the spotless walls. Everything here was clean, pretty—far too pristine for the situation at hand.
Across from him sat Taesoo Ma, eyes bored yet tinged with curiosity and anticipation. He downed another glass of soju, his gaze flicking to the man laid out between them.
Jinrang lay sprawled across the table, blood dried across his face. The sight was concerning, even with the fight over.
"When will he wak—"
Before Taesoo could finish, a rough gurgle escaped from Jinrang's throat.
Both their eyes turned toward the man as he coughed, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. Another wet cough followed, this one smearing more blood onto the already stained table.
Taesoo nearly winced. 'I didn't mean to hit him that hard,' he thought, pouring himself another glass. 'But I had just broken through that wall... I didn't have full control yet.' The excuse did little to settle the guilt.
Jinrang slowly sat up, his face contorted in pain, but his eyes sharp with caution. He looked across the room and locked eyes with Apollo—calm, steady, unreadable. Then he turned his gaze toward Taesoo, flashes of his humiliating defeat playing in his mind.
"Who are you?" Jinrang rasped, clutching his chest. He managed to push himself off the table and onto another couch, his body trembling from the effort. He wanted to attack, to retaliate—but his injuries chained him down.
Apollo calmly reached over and poured him a glass. "Drink first," he said, voice firm but not cold.
There was no malice in his eyes. No hidden motives. Jinrang had seen too many eyes—of men, women, all wanting something from him. But Apollo's?
'He doesn't seem to be against me… for now.'
Accepting his fate, Jinrang took the glass and downed it in one gulp, his grip surprisingly steady.
Apollo raised an eyebrow at the man's resilience. "We'll get you a doctor after this. But first…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Why did you attack the Kings?"
Jinrang looked down, his expression twisting. "Because I'm a dog."
He said it as if that alone should explain everything.
Taesoo, uncharacteristically engaged, replied with a quiet scoff. "And what does your master owe you for you to go this far?"
Jinrang hesitated, eyes flickering with the weight of a decision. He remembered his younger brothers—fragile, unaware, innocent. 'Should I tell them?' He looked into Taesoo's eyes and, strangely, saw concern. Not pity. Not scorn. Concern?'Why does he look… worried?'
"I have younger brothers," Jinrang muttered. "If I don't hunt the Kings… he'll kill them." He paused. "I'm a dog."
Apollo sighed internally. 'What's with this guy and being a dog?' He braced himself, ready to launch into a speech about leashes, freedom, and strength.
But then, unexpectedly, Taesoo spoke first.
A dog? The words rang in Taesoo's mind. His grip tightened around his glass until it shattered—shards bouncing off his calloused skin without piercing it.
"So some guy blackmails you," Taesoo said, his tone cold, "and instead of protecting your kin, you follow him like a dog?"
He stood up, massive frame casting a shadow that almost reached the ceiling. His eyes bore down on Jinrang with something that felt dangerously close to contempt.
Jinrang's breath hitched. The words cut deeper than any punch could. 'I know that already… But what can I do? I'm not strong enough.' Pain radiated from his elbows as he pushed himself up further.
He looked at Taesoo with something between rage and sorrow. "As if you know any better!" The words burst out of him louder, sharper than he expected—raw with frustration.
In a flash, his hands latched onto Taesoo's collar. He didn't even know why he did it. Anger? Desperation?
But Taesoo didn't flinch. Calmly, he gripped Jinrang's wrists and pulled them off.
His voice was low, almost quiet—like the rumble before a tidal wave. "A dog who follows that kind of owner usually gets bitten by him."
Taesoo stared down at Jinrang. Beneath the surface, his fury simmered. 'Using someone's family to control them… That bastard deserves worse.' But he knew this wasn't his fight to finish.
Jinrang froze. The words clawed into him, digging deeper than guilt ever had.
Finally, he shouted, "Then what should I do?!"
Taesoo didn't hesitate. "Protect them. By any means necessary. That's what a man would do."
Jinrang stumbled back, mind racing, eyes unfocused—but no longer lost. 'He's right…' He looked down at his battered hands. Despite the pain, he felt something. Something stirring.
'I need to become a wolf.'
"I need to protect my pack," he muttered.
Taesoo's lips twitched. He almost smiled. Almost. But they weren't done yet.
Apollo, silent until now, finally spoke. "It's about time, Mr. Wolf," he said with a smirk. "Let's head back to Busan."
Jinrang raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"It means," Apollo replied, standing up, "you're not going alone." He placed a firm hand on Jinrang's shoulder. "The Kings are coming with you. You're one of us now."
He pulled out his phone and opened the group chat.
Their voices erupted in chaotic unison, excitement clashing with confusion, until Apollo's authoritative tone cut through.
"Listen up. Pack your things. Tomorrow… we go to Busan."