Chapter Text
Killing has always been an activity Ten takes immense pleasure pursuing. He can’t tell what he likes best: if the screams, if the sound of bones crushing, if the blood spilling from slashed skin, or simply life itself leaving their eyes as he does what he knows best.
Now, as he hides inside a closet, he lets himself think about it. The sound of bone breaking is pretty satisfying, he’ll run with that one for now.
His next target enters the room, holding a gun, and Ten can hear his breathing from where he’s at, can tell by his posture he’s immensely tense, steps small and too hesitant, and right there he knows this one is going to be easier than he wished him to be.
A challenge once in a while would be nice.
When the man finally starts to come closer and raises a hand to open that tiny closet door in the corner of the room, Ten spares him the trouble and slams it open himself, taking his gun in a swift motion to then jump on his chest. As predicted, he falls on his back, stunned by the whole situation, and Ten makes it quick when he envelopes his hands around his neck and twists it just right to the side to hear it break.
The sound is indeed incredibly satisfying.
“You made me come out of the closet a second time.” He talks to the dead body sprawled on the floor.
“Hey!” another one screams from a distance, and Ten immediately recognizes the lion tattoo on his neck. Another one he has to kill.
Without hesitation he runs to the man who was still sloppily loading his gun, taking a single stab on the neck to make him drop, convulsing on the ground as blood spills from his mouth and neck without an end. It was right on the lion too, he notices.
Ten doesn’t do much after that, resuming to clean his own knife as he waits for the convulsions to come to a halt. He eyes the red splashes tinting his black shirt, a groan making its way out of his lips.
He’s pretty sure he’s done here, but still covers every division of the mansion a second time to make sure everyone is, in fact, dead. Luckily he was right, and doesn’t take him long to take his car back and drive far away from the scene, officially calling it a night.
The streets of Seoul look incredibly peaceful, too peaceful for the hellhole it actually is, but he doesn’t think about it too much. He still needs to call the boss and report about the mission. Hopefully it won’t take long. He parks right outside his house before grabbing the phone and dialing the familiar number, only taking two rings for the man to pick up.
“Is it done?” comes from the other side.
“Yes. I recognized a lot of them from the previous mission. Everyone who was inside is dead. Enough people to intimidate YG.” Ten answers as he looks over the window of his black Porsche straight to his house. He just can’t wait to get inside and take a well-deserved shower.
“How many?” comes next.
Ten lets out a scoff.
“I wasn’t really counting, but I would round it up to twenty men.”
He knows his boss well enough to know he’s probably smiling like a fool by now.
“Good. That’s really good. Are you hurt?”
“When am I ever hurt?” he then pauses. “But I got blood on my expensive shirt.”
A lively laugh comes next, and Ten lets himself smile a bit too.
“Don’t worry, the money I just transferred you is enough to buy thousands more of those.”
Ten loves very few things in life, but if there’s one thing he does love, it’s those words.
“Thanks, dad.”
“Now rest. I want you here tomorrow.”
The call ends before he has to chance to say anything else, his cue to at last get inside the house. He doesn’t bother turning on the lights, simply walking upstairs to reach the very desired suite with his very desired bathroom.
But something was wrong, and as he approaches his room, his steps grow quieter, more calculated, retrieving his knife from his boot as he hears someone’s breathing coming from his bedroom, only a few meters away.
“Sungchan?” when he doesn’t get an answer, he moves without hesitation, slamming the door on the person clearly hiding behind it, hearing them hiss as it hits their head violently. In a moment Ten had them pressed against the wall, knife edging on their neck, ready to cut at any given second.
“Ten what the actual fuck?!” Sungchan screams, blood sliding down his hair to his forehead. Seeing its only that idiot he quickly let’s go, turning on the light with a tired groan.
“I thought you were an intruder, you fucking idiot. I called for you and you didn’t answer.”
“Yeah, because I was playing around! No need to go all Killing Machine mode on me…” he mumbles the last part, and Ten can only roll his eyes at how dramatic he is.
But he still comes close to examinate the open wound on Sungchan’s head. “I just got back from a mission. I was careful, but someone could’ve followed me home. You never know.” Ten shrugs like it’s no big deal, after all, both are used to similar things happening. “Just put some ice on that. You’ll be fine.”
“How did it go?” he asks as they go back downstairs into the all-black kitchen, trying to find some ice to press on his bleeding head. Ten walks behind him, sitting on top of the kitchen counter as he watches the taller man searching the insides of his freezer.
“Good. YG will get the message. Killing his new business partner along with most of his gang isn’t exactly subtle provocation, but whatever, let’s see how they react.”
“You must be exhausted. Go to sleep, hyung.”
“I will.” Ten jumps off the counter, looking over at Sungchan. “When I wake up, I want you out of here, got it?”
But his friend only chuckles in response. He knows Ten really enjoys his privacy, but for some reason he just loves pissing him off. It sure is entertaining, even when it escalates to painful, like now, as he presses the ice pack against his hair.
“Oh, and I’ve heard what you called me earlier. Just don’t, okay? It’s annoying.” Ten doesn’t wait for an answer before walking out.
“What’s wrong with it? I find the nickname Killing Machine very badass. Just embrace your title already!”
“Never!” He screams from upstairs, and Sungchan hears a final slam of a door before silence takes over the house again.
Ten doesn’t even know how he hasn’t killed that kid yet. He’s annoying, a child, so damn noisy and giddy, in other words, everything that makes Ten’s blood boil. But still, he’s everything Ten wants to protect. He met him when Sungchan was only ten years old, being just fifteen himself, and from the start the kid was a menace, always latching on to him because he thought Ten was so cool. “The coolest hyung” is what Sungchan used to call him. He would watch him practice, his big Bambi eyes sparkling in amazement every time Ten hit the target just right. In other words, Ten was his role model from the start, and even after so many years, the kid still acts just the same, glued to him 24/7.
Ten blames the years they’ve spent together for his, in lack of better words, emotional involvement. How could he not grow used to that noisy child after so long? He hates people, he has for a long time, but he’s still human himself, and humans crave connections, emotions, love. He couldn’t help growing fond of Sungchan, watching him grow to become taller than him, strong and a great fighter.
Of course he would never say these things out loud. Sungchan would never shut up about it if he did.
He thinks about this as he showers, the stained shirt now thrown into the trash bin. It was so late already, and when Ten finally falls onto his bed it almost feels like heaven.
But heaven doesn’t last long for him, and the next morning he’s back at work.
The SM building is huge, located in one of the richest areas of Seoul, where the government and big companies also house their businesses. Ten uses the face scanner to enter, and from there he walks straight to the boss’s office, receiving looks from everyone he encountered. Some even bowed in respect, making him lower his head as a small greeting. Ten’s used to having his name in everyone’s mouths around here, but it still doesn’t make it less annoying. This building has practically been his home since he was fifteen, for God’s sake, you would expect people to normalize seeing him around. Still, the eyes on him only increase as his achievements grow. Guess there isn’t much he can do.
When he finally gets to the boss’s office, a single knock is what takes before a “Come in” is heard. Lee Sooman greets him with a happy grin, and Ten knows the good mood is due to the success from last night’s mission.
“Son, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
Ten bows deeply before talking, hands clasped behind his back as he looks the man in the eyes. “I’ve heard about the new information we got on the Americans.”
“Yeah, we were able to track their location and find where they’re storing the product.” the man shrugs, still not getting where this was going. “I already prepared a team for that. No need to worry.”
But Ten was hesitant. “With all due respect, don’t you find it a bit suspicious we suddenly got access to their location? We’ve been trying to track them for months... I feel something is wrong.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to go on this mission, just to make sure everything goes according to plan.”
An American mob has been exporting pills and other drugs to their territory, possibly working with one of their enemies inside the country (Ten suspects of a political party) to make it happen. This wouldn’t be a problem if SM wasn’t one of the biggest providers of drugs for private clinics all over the country. Trying to break in their market without consent was like asking for war. They knew the drugs came from America, the only questions left were: who were they exactly, and most importantly, who were they working with?
“You do realize that if you go on this mission, you’ll have to work with the team I set.”
Ten wanted to roll his eyes, but he stopped himself before he could. He hated team work, fuck, he hated basically everyone, but what choice did he have? “For the sake of the mission, I don’t mind joining a… team.”
Lee Sooman was staring at him with a hint of amusement, and Ten wanted to roll his eyes again. “You can go. Just remember you aren’t leading. I know you, and I especially know your temper...”
Another reason as to why he always worked solo was because he absolutely despised not being in control. Relying on other people seemed almost silly to him, unthinkable, especially during a mission that could cost him his life. He doesn’t think he could do it even if he tried.
But he’ll do it just this once. It’s not like he’s joining the team, he’s just supervising, making sure everything goes right.
“That won’t be a problem, I can assure you.” He then pauses. “Who is leading the mission?”
“Lee Taeyong.”
Oh, Ten knew Lee Taeyong. He’s one of the guys whose been in the mafia since he was a kid, known for his amazing skills and good sense of leadership, almost like he was made for the job.
They never really talked, but Ten remembers that when they were fifteen, training to become what they are now, Taeyong used to really challenge him in every way. If Taeyong got 7 people down in fist fighting, he had to at least get 8. If Taeyong was a good shooter, he had to be an amazing one. If Taeyong was flexible, Ten had to do the splits on top of chairs.
Everything to show his father he made a good choice when he took him in. That he was indeed the best. That he was worth something.
Of course Taeyong never actually meant to compete with him, or anyone else. He was actually a very quiet person. The only times he opened his mouth to talk to Ten were to complement him on his skills or maybe just a quick ‘hi' when they would meet in the hallways. You wouldn’t expect such a kid to become a good leader, but looks like he outgrew his shyness, and is now able to really assert himself amongst the others.
Ten leaves the office after that, his next destination being the training room where he expects to meet Taeyong.
“Ten hyung!”
Of fucking course…
Soon enough he feels an intrusive long arm travel around his shoulders, walking with him with a big smile. Ten immediately pulls away from the touch, eyes deadly on the kid besides him. “How many times do I have to say do not touch me?” he says. “What do you want Sungchan?”
“Such a grumpy guy you are…” he mumbles out, but just as he started to pout, a smile grew back on his face again. “I saw you leaving daddy’s office. What were you doing in there?”
“None of your business.”
“Just tell me already! It’s worse if you resist, you know I won’t stop bothering you until you tell me.”
“I was asking to join a mission.”
“Which one?” Sungchan asks excitedly. Again, Ten wants to roll his eyes, or throw him off the building, both seeming equally tempting.
“The imported drugs mission. I think the Americans, or the organization behind them, must be plotting against us.”
“Oh! I’m also going on that mission! I can’t believe I’ll work with you! Wait… I can’t believe you’re working with a team. Will you follow Yongie’s orders?”
Ten could swear his head was on the verge of exploding. Sungchan talks too much. And the constant excitement in his voice makes Ten want to shoot himself with his own gun.
“Who's Yongie?” he manages to ask, still trying to process everything the younger said.
“Taeyong, our leader.”
“Your leader lets you call him that? How professional.” He’s hating this whole team thing and it hasn’t even started.
As they finally reach one of the training rooms, they’re met with two guys fighting on the big mattress, rolling on the ground as the red-haired one delivers a few punches in the other guy’s ribs. The other seemed taller though, taking advantage of it to pin the red-haired down and head-but him, both groaning in pain after it.
“Hey guys!” Sungchan screams, waving his hand at them.
“What are you doing?” Ten whispers to Sungchan, kicking him on the leg and hearing an ‘ouch' in response. “You can’t just interrupt a fight.”
“But they’re my friends. Also, a part of the team you’re going with.”
“Oh.” Ten says, looking back at the men now getting up from the ground. The taller one had a nose-bleed, and the other one keeps on smiling like a fucking idiot.
“That was a good one.” He says, and Ten takes notice of the accent in his voice. The taller one just groans, going to fetch his towel to press on his nose.
“Guys, this is Ten.” They both turn their heads to him. “Ten, this is Yuta and Jungwoo.”
Ten bows his head slightly to greet them, and the red-haired one, Yuta, he thinks, just keeps on smiling. “I finally get to meet the Killing Machine. You’re pretty famous around here.”
Another thing Ten hates is that stupid nickname. He doesn’t even know who came up with it, he just knows that it started a few years back, and now everywhere he goes people call him that. It’s so damn corny, and in his opinion, over the top. He’s just doing his job after all, it’s not his fault he does it better than most. No need for a dramatic title.
“Just Ten is fine.” He says, eyes serious on Yuta.
Jungwoo takes a step forward and extends his hand for a shake.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Kim Jungwoo.”
His smile was blinding, too cute for the mafia, but again, SM has Sungchan, of course they had more like him… just what he needed.
Ten is hesitant to take his hand, but he still does it. “I’m Ten.”
“Ten is going on a mission with us.” Comes Sungchan’s voice again. Their eyes bulge in shock.
“Really? That’s surprising.” Jungwoo speaks.
“It’s a one-time thing. Sungchan is making a fuss about it.”
“You know, you sound so scary and intimidating, but you’re quite pretty.” Yuta comes closer, and Ten sees his hand raising to meet his cheek, acting faster than him to take his arm and twists it just in the right way to easily break it if he wished.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t say that again, or ever try to touch me without my consent.” His voice was now deadly serious, both Jungwoo and Sungchan surprised by how fast Ten acted, Yuta only whimpering in pain. He lets him go a few seconds later, pushing him away a little further than necessary so he almost falls.
But Yuta was still smiling?
“Oh my God, you’re so cool! Sorry, I won’t touch you again. But that was awesome! You should teach us some things!”
Ten couldn’t believe this. He hates this team already.