It was hot, almost unbearably hot. The warm, humid Miami air heated the environment around the man causing him to sweat profusely. The only problem, he had no idea where he was right now. He was blindfolded, that much he could tell. His hands were bound behind his back, tied behind some sort of metal chair. He knew it was metal, because the heat caused it to burn into his bare skin. They had taken off his shirt, maybe that’s why he was in so much pain. It hurt all over his body, the pain so great that he was struggling to breathe. The last thing he remembered was walking down the street, minding his own business. His business was just that, his own. He was not a good man, as were most who lived and worked in the city of Miami at the time. Drugs, prostitution, murder, these were the building blocks upon which any man looking to make a little money could life a comfortable life in this town. Of course, comfort came with it’s own set of risks, something he was about to find out the hard way. *Crack* The sharp pain brought on by the loud sound against the base of his neck caused him to pass out. One second he could see the vibrant, colorful streets of the city. The next, total darkness. That’s why his back was throbbing so much, as he started to try and piece his situation together the more he regained consciousness. He listened, it was silent save for the muffled sounds of what he could assume were boats. That means he was somewhere near the water, something that didn’t narrow his options much. “Who’s got it out for me.” He thought to himself. “Rico’s still pissed about what I did with his girl, serves him right for not taking care of her. Maybe the fucker finally grew a pair. Won’t matter much when I get out of this, I’ll show him not to mess with me.” He struggled against the bindings on his arms, but they wouldn’t budge. Whoever tied him up knew what they were doing, as he was realizing that his legs were also bound to the chair. He thrashed about, trying his best to move the chair off balance to potentially give him a way out. “Ooo be careful there man, wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” There came a voice from in front of him. Someone was in here with him? How long had they been there? They hadn’t made so much as a peep, not even their breathing. “Hey you tell Rico his ass is mine when i get out of this. He fucked with the wrong guy.” The bound man managed to croak out. His throat was dry, burning, the pain and the heat causing him to become dehydrated. “Nah ese, ain’t no Rico involved in this. This is just me and you. You and I? Ah you get what i’m sayin’.” The mysterious voice said as the man could hear him get up and move around. As his feet shuffled across the ground he began to hum to himself, some foreign song by the sounds of it. This guy must be part of one of the cartels, but what would they want with him? “Hey, hey you let me out of this and we settle this like men. Unless you’re too scared or somethin’?” There was a loud click, followed by a faint humming noise and an intense heat. For once the man could see a tiny bit through his blindfold. Meaning his captor must have turned on some kind of spotlight. He could make out the outline of the man, but it was too undistinguished to be of any help. The form got larger and larger as it got close to him. With force it grabbed the blindfold and jerked it off of him, causing his head to snap to the side. The light was so blinding it assaulted his eyes, causing him to need a few seconds to focus. The first thing that came into view was the face of the man who had bound him. It was his smile that stood out the most, a grin that stretched from ear to ear. It showed that whoever this man was held no fear. He knew he was in complete control of the situation. It was a smile that one would give to a child, looking at someone so helpless that their very life was in your hands. What threw him off the most was the difference between his speech and his looks. Judging from what he had heard he thought he was dealing with someone of latin descent, but this guy was asian, though on closer inspection his skin did have a slight honey shade to it. His black hair was fine, in almost a bowl cut, and his eyes almost closed as he smiled. For a second it was a look that struck fear into the heart of the man. There was something deranged, almost insane about the way he was being looked at. His dress also betrayed what the man would have thought for someone like him. He wore a red Hawaiian shirt, with white hibiscus flowers and vines stretched across the surface. The top few buttons were undone, giving the man an open view of his hairless toned chest. Below that was a pair of khaki shorts that went to his knees, followed by a pair of white boat shoes. “Who, who the fuck are you?” “Ooo see you don’t get to be askin’ no questions. Questions went bye bye when you decided to fuck with what’s mine.” The mystery man said as he walked back to adjust the spotlight behind them. “Heh, too scared I’ll come after you once I find out who you are?” His captors head snapped back at the sentence, the same smile forming on his face. Before long he burst out into laughter. It was an over exaggerated display, with him bending at the waist and slapping his leg. Then as soon as it began he stopped. His face going dead serious, as if someone had flipped a switch inside of him. “You really don’t know who I am, do you ese?” “Do you know who you are? Asian or latin, you can’t seem to make up your mind.” The man spoke with ragged breath. The extra heat from the spotlight was really taking its toll on him. His captor walked up to him, smiling. Reaching behind his back he pulled out a long, curved fishing knife. The blade was thin and narrow as it reached a fine tip at the end, with the spine of the blade having a slight bend to it. He held the blade up to the stomach of the man, his breathing becoming more panicked causing it to heave up and down. The blade was so sharp that it drew blood just by touching the skin. Slowly he moved the knife around the man's stomach, leaving a trail of blood in his path. “You can’t help but be racist even when you’re staring into the eyes of la muerte, can you?” “La muerte?” The man asked as the sudden sharp pain of the knife caught him off guard, causing his breathing to quicken. “Never heard of you on the streets.” “Oh no see, I have many names. Mi madre.” He paused while performing the catholic sign of the cross. “Que en paz descanse, she gave me my one true name. You ain’t gonna know that though. Nah, for you? I’m Hopeline Miami.” “Hopeline Miami? What the fuck kind of name is that?” “The last name you’re ever gonna hear ese.” He said as he pushed the knife in slightly deeper, causing the man to grit his teeth in pain. He couldn’t tell what he was doing to him, but there seemed to be a method to his knifeplay. “Ok, ‘Hopeline’, what’s this all about? What did I do to you, huh?” “You thought you could steal from me, that I wouldn’t know you just ‘happened’ to find some of my product.” It finally all clicked for the man. He thought back to just a couple weeks earlier. It was a normal night for him, he had been drinking, he had been gambling, not winning at either of them. He was walking down a back alley heading towards whatever roach motel he was staying at for the week. Ahead of him he noticed a shady figure drop something off in a garbage can and walk off. In his drunken curiosity he waited for him to leave his sight and decided to check it out. He must have been dreaming as he lifted that lid. Someone had left an entire kilo of cocaine and just walked off. He snapped the lid shut and nervously looked around. There wasn’t a single soul in this alley besides him. He could make off with it, nobody would ever know. Had he not been drunk he would have known to just walk away and pretend that he didn’t see anything. Think of all he could buy with that money though. He could pay off his debts, finally get a nice place, hell maybe even make it out of the city. As quick as he could he lifted the lid back up and grabbed the cocaine. Trying his best to conceal it he stuffed it down his pants and tucked his shirt over it. Like a rat that had grabbed the cheese without setting off the trap, he scurried away as fast as he could. Not knowing just exactly what he had done. “O-oh, that was your cocaine? I can pay you back for it, I swear. Just give me like a week, three days, i’ll have it for you in three days.” The man's speech was becoming quicker, more erratic as he realized the situation he was in. His life was in actual danger here, and for the first time he felt completely helpless. “You gonna pay me back alright. It ain’t gonna be money though.” Hopeline finished moving the knife around the man’s chest and brought it closer to his head. He traced the spine of the blade along his jawline, before bringing the tip to the edge of his tear ducts. “Wait! Wait! I-I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll pay double, triple what it was worth!” “Ooo double, i like the sound of that! You like to look a lot eh? And you got two eyes? Double sounds good to me!” He touched the tip of the knife to the helpless man's eyeball, and slowly pushed it forward. The ear splitting scream that escaped the man’s mouth echoed against the high ceilings of the warehouse he was trapped in. Effortlessly, Hopeline skewered the eye on the tip of the knife and began pulling it out of its socket. The soft squishing sound it made couldn’t be heard over the wails of the bound man, and in a few seconds the eyeball was fully out of the socket. The optic nerve was still attached to the man’s skull, held tight by the pressure he was applying on it. In one fluid motion he turned the knife around, using the edge of the blade to sever the nerve and separate it from the eyeball. Holding the eye close to his own he spun it around and admired it, like one would admire a fine priceless gem. “So sad, you’ve got gorgeous eyes.” He said as he flicked his wrist, sending the eyeball flying across the room into the darkness. “Should have kept them to yourself, huh ese?” The man shut his other eyelid as tight as he could in an effort to protect his remaining eye. The pain throughout his body was immeasurable, the fountain of blood that gushed from his eye socket was the least of his worries. With his last few seconds of life he felt himself crying, wishing desperately he had left well enough alone. He felt his eyelid being pried open by Hopeline, and watched as the blade drew closer and closer. The last thing he would ever see would be the smile hidden behind that blade. In his last thoughts he asked himself which one was more frightening? He found his answer as he passed out, never to wake again. It would be days before anyone found the man's body. His bloated corpse was discovered by a couple of dock workers. The amount of dried blood on the ground gave plenty of clues as to what had taken place here, but the biggest mystery though, were the initials ‘HL’ carved into the corpse’s chest. - Yoongi leaned back in the leather recliner that was in what he considered to be his office. He ran his hands through his mint green hair. Fuck he was so stressed, more so than he normally would be. He looked at the large screen television in the corner of the room, hoping to distract himself. Whatever weekday morning public television was playing had zero effect on calming him down. He patted down the large jacket he was wearing, not something one would normally wear indoors, as if looking for something. “Yo, you seen the remote?” He asked the other person in the room. To his left was a man wearing a purple track suit. That wasn’t what made him unique though, it was the bright white rabbit’s mask that he insisted on wearing. He was squatting in the corner, a position that anyone would be uncomfortable in, using a baseball bat to hold his balance. Without speaking he lifted the bat and tapped it on the large glass coffee table that was in front of them. The television remote was there, mixed in with the piles of money and drugs that were thrown haphazardly about. “Thanks man.” He leaned forward to grab the remote, shuffling the television through it’s channels. Nothing, nothing, nothing. “Who the hell watches tv this early anyway.” He said in anger as he threw the remote across the room. He felt a tap on his shoulder as the other man used his baseball bat to point to him. “Hey, go fuck yourself.” He said as he swatted the bat away. “Bad time boss?” Yoongi looked up to see one of his lieutenants standing sheepishly in the doorway, clearly frightened by the outburst of anger he had just witnessed. He was dressed as any normal person would be, jeans, white t-shirt. The giveaway was the bright green jacket he wore, the same shade as Yoongi's hair. “When is it a good time? Come on what is it? “We’ve got another one down, he didn’t even see it coming.” “Are you fucking SERIOUS!” He yelled as he reached over and snatched the bat from the masked man, swinging it down to shatter the glass top of the coffee table. The man in the doorway winced as glass and money flew around the room. The mystery man in the corner sat unmoved as shards of glass bounced off his mask. “I-i’m sorry, I thought you would want to know.” “What is this, the fifth deal this week that’s gone bad? It’s probably that pink fuck Jimin. If he wants a war he’s going to get it.” He began to sit up to reach for his pistol that had fallen on the ground during the shattering of the glass. The baseball bat his friend was holding was held up against his chest to stop him. Yoongi looked over to see the rabbit mask shaking his head. Silently advising him that maybe he should cool down a bit. “You’re right, damn it you’re always right.” He said as he fell back into his recliner, letting himself sink into it. His rage left his body as it seemingly seeped into the leather. He massaged his forehead with his hand, searching for what to do next. There was another tap on his shoulder to bring him back to reality, the baseball bat pointing his attention to the television. “Tonight on Miami News at Five, hear an exclusive interview from Mayor Kim on the recent surge of gang violence in our city. Plus we’ll-” The television was cut off as Yoongi put down the remote. “Fuck that Mayor, biggest hypocrite we’ve ever had in office.” “So, uh, boss? What do I tell the guys? A lot of our dealers are getting cold feet about selling.” “Business as usual. Nobody walks, or else they don’t walk anymore, you got it?” “Got it, I’ll let the guys know. They’re gonna want to know you’ve got a plan to deal with this.” “My plan is right here.” He said pointing to the man in the rabbit mask. “He’s going to watch over the next time a deal goes down, and he’s going to kill whatever asshole wants to get in the way. If Jimin is behind this, then he’s got the war he wanted.” The man in the rabbit mask stood up, ready to make his move. In one fluid motion he swung the bat, careful not to strike Yoongi, but with enough force that the gust of wind caused the loose dollar bills to flutter around the room. When they finally settled down and fell to the floor, he was gone. “How the hell did he do that?” The lieutenant asked. Yoongi just shrugged his shoulders. “He watches too many of those kung fu movies, thinks he’s some ninja or somethin’.” - Nobody would think twice that Strawberry Pharmacy was anything but just that. It was nestled down a sleepy side street in downtown Miami, it’s most distinctive attribute being the blue sign with the pink lettering. From the street the large window gave a clear glimpse to the inside of the building, where the few aisles in the store were stocked full of over the counter medicines and household essentials. The woman at the counter finished taking care of her customer, packaging up his medicine and wishing him a nice day. Before she could leave from the counter to get back to her stocking duties, a new customer walked through the door. It was a man wearing a red hawaiian shirt, with white hibiscus flowers on it. “Ah Mr. Miami, nice to see you today.” “Please Ms. Moon, we don’t need to use street names here. Hoseok is fine.” He said smiling. In his hand he held a small brown paper bag that he held up to show off. “Is the doctor in today?” “He is, please, help yourself.” She said as she motioned to a door leading to the back of the building. He nodded his smiling head in thanks as he made his way into the back room. The inconspicuous pharmacy would have an equally inconspicuous back room. There were boxes of medicine and household supplies stacked neatly along the walls. A locked door to the alley behind the building sat in the corner of the room. Knowing exactly what to do, Hoseok walked up to one of the shelves of boxes. It didn’t appear to be moveable, but with ease he grabbed the edge of the shelving and rolled it to the left, revealing a strong metal door with a keypad. He typed in the code, six one three, and there was an audible click as the door popped open. He made his way through the door and down the flight of stairs behind it. There was a faint, soft squishing noise that could be heard further down. Coming to the bottom of the stairs led him to what looked like an operating room. In the center under the fluorescent lighting was an operating table with a body on it. All along the walls of the room were various operating tools and pieces of equipment. Standing above the table in the center was a man wearing a set of blue scrubs, splotches of blood dotted them like the flowers on Hoseok’s shirt. The mask and face covering he wore made it difficult to see who he was, but his black hair that stuck out made him easily identifiable. “What’s up Doc?” Hoseok said jokingly, causing the doctor to jump a little, obviously not expecting anyone to be joining him. He turned towards the voice and took off his gloves to remove his mask. His face was very soft and gorgeous, not something one would expect for a doctor working in these conditions. “Hobi! I didn’t expect to see you today. What did you bring me this time?” He said motioning to the bag in Hoseok’s hand. “See for yourself man.” He said laughing at his own joke, handing the bag over to the doctor. The doctor excitedly took the bag over to a small table off to the side and dumped the contents onto a silver tray. A pair of eyeballs rolled out of the bag, still fresh from Hoseok’s earlier activities. “Oh wow, these are beautiful.” He said rolling them around the tray admiring them. “Do i want to know where they came from?” “Nah, best to keep you out of it Jin.” He walked around the room, fiddling with the various medical instruments like some child. “Do i want to know the story behind that?” He pointed to the body on the operating table. “One of Augst D’s men.” Seokjin said while dropping the eyeballs in a jar of formaldehyde. “I’m trying to figure out exactly what killed him.” “You mean you don’t already know? You must be slipping, you’re usually on top of things.” “Very funny Bugs. Anyway, it’s the strangest thing, it’s like he just suddenly died. I can’t figure out what killed him though, everything about him seems to be perfectly healthy.” He said while putting his surgical gloves back on, walking over to the body to explain it. “Heart, liver, lungs, everything looks like it was fine. It’s like he just dropped dead.” “You think this is Tiger V’s work?” “If i had to guess, probably.” He said while he began to sew up the open chest cavity. “But I had one of Jimin’s men in here earlier in the week, exact same situation.” “Makes no sense, they’ve gone years without stepping on each other’s toes like this. Why do it now, and why would he kill his own men?” “Beats me, but if this keeps up, it’s gonna be bad for business.” “Half the customers means everyone is hurting. No offense to either of them, but they’re not big enough to move all of my product by themselves.” “I can’t deal with only half the bodies coming through here. Alive or dead, I've gotta make a living somehow.” “Better solve this problem somehow Doc.” He said slapping the doctor on the back, his trademark smile on his face. “Now, whatcha say we go out for that drink you owe me?” - In the center of the large room there was a large wooden table, as if it were in some company boardroom. On this table, stacks and stacks of money were neatly piled and arranged in a particular manner. At the head of the table there was an ornate pink chair. In this pink chair sat a shirtless man, with equally pink hair. His delicate face was furrowed as he counted his money by hand. Going dollar by dollar in a meticulous manner. On the shirtless man's chest was a tattoo, a tattoo of a pink outline of a cat's head. As he continued to count his money, a hand came from behind him and ran itself down his chest, rubbing where the tattoo was. “Come back to bed Kitten.” A shirtless man with blue hair said as he leaned his head on the pink haired man’s neck. “I’ll help you forget about all of this.” The pink haired man turned his head to look. The face he was met with was incredibly gorgeous, almost like it belonged to a supermodel. He put down the money in his hands, and reached up to stroke the side of the man’s face. “I’ll be there soon V, you know counting money helps me calm down.” V walked around to the other side of the chair and climbed on top of the pink haired man. He straddled him as he met him face to face, taking his head in his hands to force him to stare eye to eye with him. “Jimin, don’t worry about a thing. So you’ve lost a few men, lost a few thousand dollars. You’re still the top cat in this city. Everyone knows that.” “Then why does Augst D think he can challenge me like that? If he doesn’t have the balls to openly face me, then I’m going to show him how sharp these claws really are.” “Calm down Kitten.” V said as he ran his hands down to Jimin’s shoulders. “You just leave everything to me, my love. Focus on keeping things under control, I’ll figure out what’s going on.” Jimin laid back and looked up at the man that was sitting on top of him. There was something about the way he looked at him, that warm comforting gaze he had. It made it impossible to say no to him, not that he ever wanted to. He exhaled deeply as he conceded to him. “Fine, i’ll let you handle things. How you have me so wrapped around your finger I'll never know.” “Don’t mistake anything Kitten.” He said as he stood up, grabbing onto Jimin’s hand. “You’re always the man on top.” His eyes insinuating what he was actually talking about. “Maybe I will join you in bed after all.” Jimin said as he let himself be lifted up by the hand. He pulled V close, so they were touching at the hip. His other arm reached behind and slipped underneath V’s pants. “On second thought, this table will do just as well.” He whispered into his ear seductively. - The streets of Miami were not particularly the safest place at night, and that went doubly so for the back alleys. It was dark, dirty, with all sorts of corners and crevasses for someone to hide in. For someone that lived a life of crime however, it was the perfect place to conduct business. The man in the white rabbit mask was one such individual. He sat on top of a building, perched off the edge like a watchful owl. This was where the next deal was supposed to take place, where he hoped to find some answers. Music played through the headphones we wore, it was an upbeat Asian song, perfect to set the mood for what was to come. He adjusted the mask a bit, it never seemed to get uncomfortable no matter how long he wore it. The baseball bat at his side was a different one from what he had carried that morning. This one was for business, a pure maple bat with barbed wire wrapped tightly around the body. His name was Jungkook, but not many knew that. Among the few who did there was only one that he permitted to call him by that name. Killer Bunny was what he went by, and god did he love it. The thrill of seeing the fear in a man's eyes as the bat inches closer to his face. The yelp of surprise when he would ambush his victims. He tapped his foot against the side of the building with the beat of the music. It was time, he thought. As he looked around both ends of the alley he saw a black station wagon drive slowly through. Eventually it stopped right in front of where he sat, it’s engine turning off but the lights remaining on. Not even a minute later another car made its way down the alley, stopping a car’s length behind the first one. It too turned its engine off, but left the headlights on for illumination. Two men got out of the first car, both wearing the same green as Augst D’s men earlier. They walked around to the trunk and waited. A single man exited the second car, carrying a black briefcase. He was dressed nondescript, clearly not a member of any gang. Walking around to the trunk of the other car he appeared to make small talk with the two gang members. The situation seemed normal, nothing out of the ordinary was happening. The conversation couldn’t be heard over the music in his ears, but from his point of view the deal seemed to be going well. The briefcase with the money was opened, the drugs in the trunk of the other car were shown off. Suddenly though, something wasn’t right. Jungkook crouched on the edge of the rooftop, baseball bat in hand, ready to make a move. From a dark part of the alley that Jungkook had overlooked, two men wearing sunglasses dressed in dark suits ran out towards Augst D’s men. In their hands were what looked like handkerchiefs. The two men ran up behind their victims and placed the handkerchiefs over their victims' mouths. Screaming, the man with the briefcase ran back to his car, backing away as fast as he could. It happened seemingly in an instant. The next thing one of the assailants saw was a man wearing a purple track suit and a white rabbits mask falling from the sky. His legs were crouched to absorb the impact of his fall, as he held his bat outstretched. The bat connected with the head of the other mystery assailant. It was a mixture of a crack and a squish that came out of the man's head. His body going limp as his skull was crushed under the force of the blow, blood spraying from him like a geyser. Jungkook stood up as the beat from the song in his head kicked in, flicking the bat to dislodge it from the head of his first victim. He watched as the man with sunglasses dropped the gang member in his arms. Fear couldn’t be seen in his eyes, but he saw it in the shaking of his arms. The man reached in his jacket to pull out a pistol, but before he could aim it Jungkook swung the bat, knocking it out of his hands. Like an actual rabbit he jumped around, dodging the attempted swings the man was throwing at him. He was toying with his victim at this point, dancing along to the music in his head. He got a little too cocky, as the man was able to get one good hit on him. It landed just below his eye, the mask absorbing the impact, cracking a little bit. It was like a switch was flipped in his head. He swung the bat at the mans leg, catching it behind the knee and shattering the bone. The tearing of the flesh and the ear splitting scream couldn’t be heard over the upbeat song. The man fell to the ground, clutching his leg. He wasn’t long for this world as the baseball bat came down on his skull, the force killing him instantly. Again, and again Jungkook swung at his head. Until when he finally stopped, a pile of blood and hair was all that remained. As Jungkook calmed down he wiped his bat clean with the clothes of his victims. Walking over he checked on the gang members, they had died instantly. Somehow whatever they had breathed in must have taken affect before they had time to react. Curious he looked around for the handkerchiefs that had been dropped on the ground. He found what he was looking for underneath one of the bodies. Looking at it gave no clues as to what happened. It was as clean and white as the day it was made. The only identifying feature however, were the initials KN stitched in the corner. Surrounding the initials was the seal of the city of Miami. - The office of the mayor of Miami overlooked the Atlantic Ocean. It was a beautiful view, so naturally the office should be held by a beautiful man. Namjoon was that man, though his silver hair fooled many, he was the youngest mayor in the history of the city. He was two years into his first term, and judging by the job he was doing there would definitely be a second. That is, if that’s what he wanted. A man like him had his sights set on higher offices, and there wasn’t much that would get in his way. The black suit he wore was a stark contrast to his hair. He sat at his desk in his office. Behind him a set of glass double doors led out to a balcony that overlooked the sea. Papers were stacked high on his desk, much like the buildings of the city, his city he thought. To his right were a set of monitors, on the right one was his calendar. He was booked solid, something to be done nearly every hour for as long as he could see. Endless meetings and governmental affairs, it was enough to drive a man insane. Not him though, as he scrolled through to see what was on the agenda for the day, he heard the buzzing of a phone in the drawer of his desk. Opening the drawer revealed a small black flip phone, like something you would find at a corner store. He flipped open the phone to see a message, it was a set of gps coordinates. He committed them to memory, and then snapped the phone in half, throwing it in the trash. Known to few in the Miami underworld was that the paragon of justice for the city was anything but. In fact, Namjoon was responsible for the largest weapons smuggling operation on the east coast. If there was any gun in the hands of a criminal in this town, odds are he had a part in it. “Mr. Kim, the reporter from Miami news is here for your ten o’clock interview.” The voice from the phone’s intercom on his desk barked at him. “Thank you Ms. Koya, you can send them up any time.” He got up from his desk and opened the doors to the balcony behind him. The fresh sea air filled the room. A few second later there was a quick knock at his office doors. “Ah, come on in.” He said. The doors opened and in walked a woman in a blue dress. Her black hair and makeup were freshly done, ready to be recorded for television. Behind her, a man carrying a large tv camera followed suit. He set the camera down, fetching a large tripod that he carried with him and began to set it up. “Thank you again for giving us this interview Mayor Kim. I’ve really been looking forward to it.” “Please.” He said holding out his hand for the reporter to shake. “Save the formalities for the camera. Namjoon will do just fine, Miss... Flores right?” “Gloria then.” She said joining him in the handshake. “But yes let’s save all that for the interview. Let’s get right to it then.” “After you.” He said motioning to a pair of ornate chairs on the opposite side of the room. They faced each other at a diagonal angle, and in the middle was a small table. The backdrop was a large bookcase that spanned almost the length of the room itself. Mixed in with the various books on city law and history, were photos of Namjoon’s accomplishments as mayor. It was a well crafted scene, one meant to project the importance of the office he held. “You are surprisingly well prepared for this.” She remarked as she took in the scene before her. “Most people I interview have no clue what they’re doing, I practically have to hold their hand.” “I think it would be rude of me to expect you to come here and have to do more work than is needed. I imagine interviewing a member of public office can be stressful enough. Please, let’s not waste any more time. Shall we?” “Right, let’s get started. Ronald is the shot set up?” She asked the camera man who gave her a thumbs up as he looked through the lense. She sat down opposite of the mayor, who she noticed was sitting tall and proud. Had he brought someone in to apply makeup or did he naturally look this good? If it was the latter she would be pretty jealous. “Mayor Kim. You’ve held good on your election promise to clean up crime in our city, but there are some who feel you haven’t done as much as you could have. What would you like to say about that?” “Well Miss Flores, I’d like to remind them that the progress we’ve made in cleaning up our streets these past two years has been monumental. More so than any administration before ours. I would be remiss not to mention that it’s not just me that’s responsible. It’s an effort of every member of our government, no matter what position they hold. The accomplishments I’ve had in office I credit solely to them.” “What do you have to say about the recent spike in gang activity? In spite of all your best efforts, the murder rate in Miami is the highest it’s been in the past five years.” “Preventing crime is a community effort. I would ask the citizens of Miami to practice caution when traveling the streets at night, especially in unattended areas. Report any suspicious or gang related activity to the police. No tip is unimportant, no matter how large or small.” “Would you like to comment on the rumors that you may have been turning a blind eye to some of the crime in the city?” “I will say that they are just that, rumors. I like to think that our citizens are smart enough to look at the facts, and not listen to gossip.” “Then what would be the facts behind this photo?” She asked as she pulled a picture out from a portfolio she had brought with her and handed it to Namjoon. It was a large clear photograph of him meeting with Tiger V. Their hair colors were unmistakable. “Where did you get this?” He asked as he tightened his grip on the picture in anger, creasing the edge of it. “I can’t reveal my sources, but it would seem like this is a picture of you consorting with a known gang associate. Would it not?” Thankfully for Namjoon his back was turned in the photograph. The only clear face that could be seen was Tiger V’s. Still, only an idiot would believe that it was not him. “Unfortunately I am not allowed to comment when it comes to matters dealing with open investigations. I would ask that you cut this part of the interview.” “I’m afraid I can’t do that Mayor Kim. The public has a right to know that it’s mayor is rubbing elbows with known criminals.” “Then this interview is over Miss Flores.” He said as he began to stand up. “By refusing to talk about these allegations you’re only reinforcing the fact that-“ “I said, this interview is OVER!” Namjoon yelled as he slammed his hand on his desk in a rage, causing the objects on top to bounce around and fall to the floor. He took a second to compose himself as he noticed that the camera was on him the entire time. As if he was a different person he calmly spoke. “Now if you’ll please see yourselves out, Ms. Koya will help you in the main lobby.” The reporter and camera man silently packed up their things and left. Clearly troubled by the outburst they had seen, and at the same time thrilled that they would be able to make headlines for exposing the mayor’s corruption. They left without saying a word, and when he knew they were out of earshot, Namjoon took out his phone and made a call. “The reporter and that interview do not make it on the news tonight. Understood?” He nodded, seeming pleased with the response on the other end as he hung up the phone and began reorganizing his desk. This wouldn’t be the last meeting he would have today. Another meeting with Tiger V had just been added to his agenda. - There was a quaint nondescript cafe on the streets of Miami. The outside was refurbished, free of any sort of litter or graffiti. The inside looked like it had been trapped in a moment of the past. The old style tables and barstools looked like they were ripped right from the fifties. Hoseok and Seokjin sat at a booth near one of the windows to the outside. The natural light was warm without being too overbearing. Hoseok wore the same red Hawaiian shirt from earlier in the day, but Seokjin had changed out of his scrubs and into a pink polo shirt and white pants. “God I love how this place really makes you feel like you’re in the past.” Seokjin said as he sipped from his mimosa. “It’s no wonder you always want to come here.” Hoseok replied as he drank from his own. “It’s nice to get to relax together after a night of hard work, isn’t it?” “We really do need to do this more often. Are you really not going to tell me where you got those eyeballs from?” “Are you going to tell me why you wanted them so badly?” “Fair enough, we keep our secrets.” He laughed as he kept working on his drink. “Still, I don’t like how out of hand the others are getting. Don’t get me wrong, I love the business, I’m just worried eventually I won’t have anyone left to do my “business” on.” “I see where you’re coming from. It’s going to fall to one of us to get them to stop, isn’t it?” Hoseok asked as he finished off his drink, motioning to the waitress behind the counter for another. “Do you think they would listen to us? We’re just the doctor and the supplier. You know how bull-headed those two can be.” “It’s us or him. I think that would be enough to get them to stop, don’t you?” Their attention was turned from their conversation to the shrill scream the waitress let out as she ran back into the kitchen. They looked to the entrance to see Killer Bunny standing there. His purple track suit splotched with dried blood. Splatters of the same dark liquid could be seen on his cracked mask. He carried in his barbed wires baseball bat, seemingly not caring about who he frightened. “Hey Bunny! Nice to see you man. Muchas gracias for that help earlier. Ese didn’t see it coming if you know what I mean.” He laughed at his own joke as he got up and walked towards Jungkook. “But hey, you can’t just walk in here dressed like that man. Muy aterrador to the ladies if you get what I’m sayin’.” Jungkook silently handed over the handkerchief he had brought with him, making sure to emphasize the embroidery on it. “Yo Jin, what do you make of this?” He asked as Seokjin got up and joined them. Curiously he examined the handkerchief. “These initials could be Namjoon’s, but where did you get this?” Raising his bat Jungkook pointed at a television that hung in the corner of the cafe. It was playing an afternoon broadcast, in which the scene from the night previous was show. The words “Drug deal gone wrong” were on the bottom of the screen. It was a shot of the trunk full of drugs, and a shot of the four bodies on the ground, covered with sheets. “That was your work? But how does this handkerchief fit into that?” Jungkook mimed the situation. He imitated sneaking up on someone and placed the handkerchief over the mouth on this mask. Faking like he was struggling he eventually let his body go limp and fall to the floor. He then popped back up and handed the handkerchief back to Seokjin. “So someone used this to knock people out? Like with chloroform?” Jungkook made an X shape with his hands over his heart. He pointed out a mint green color on one of the tables that was strikingly similar to the kind worn by Augst D’s gang. “They were killed just by breathing something in?” Seokjin cautiously held the handkerchief close to his face. There was no smell coming from it. “That would explain the other bodies! That’s why nothing was wrong with them! Whatever chemical they inhaled must have killed them and then dissipated before I could do an autopsy.” Seokjin said excitedly as he figured out the key to the mystery he had been wracking his brain over. “A chemical? So it has to be Tiger V then right?” Asked Hoseok. “I don’t know who else it could be. Why would it be on Namjoon’s handkerchief though? And why would he do the sa