A wooden house, filled with ornaments of varying quality and furniture that hinted at quiet wealth. The wood itself was in perfect condition—flawless, untouched by time. Yet it didn't matter now. The house was being abandoned by its owner.
The owner: a gruff dwarf of a man, his small, patchy beard barely covering his skin, his head disproportionately large. He was panting, his breathing fast and shallow. Anxious. His hands moved frantically between drawers, rummaging through them—some filled with cash, others with documents, watches, and other luxuries.
"No, no, no... Why is this happening?"
His face twisted in regret. He hadn't expected the First Generation to be so strong.
"I thought they couldn't defeat the Kojima brothers... otherwise—otherwise I would've run earlier!"
His breathing hitched. Then—he found it. The car key.
Relief nearly washed over him, but another thought struck him like lightning.
"If only I'd taken the kid with me... I'd have a bargaining chip."
He could hear the thump of his heart, feel the rush of blood in his ears. His hands shook as he struggled with the door latch.
He was terrified.
Flinging the door open with all his strength, he bolted toward his car—a clean, black Mercedes. The paint gleamed under the sun, the exterior polished and refined. But the man couldn't care less about its beauty.
"I need to get out of here!"
. . .
Meanwhile, Apollo and Seonji stood side by side, watching the house from a distance. One of the windows offered a clear view inside. Through it, they saw the trembling shaman, desperately scrambling for his life.
Apollo casually tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, feeling Seonji's silent presence next to him. His hair was getting long again—it had interrupted his vision twice now.
"Maybe it's time for a cut," he thought.
Enough waiting.
"Let's go, Seonji," Apollo said, glancing at his current partner.
From the outside, Seonji looked fine—aside from the broken hand still bound in a rough cast. His body pulsed with strength. But Apollo could see it in his eyes. Seonji was fragile. Shaken.
"Enough of this gloomy mood," Apollo thought.
He placed a hand on Seonji's shoulder, steady and firm.
"See that car?" he said, nodding toward the sleek black Mercedes parked outside the house.
Seonji took a moment before nodding back.
Apollo grinned.
"I bet he's planning to run... like the slimy rat he is."
An idea flashed in his mind.
"Ever picked a lock before?"
. . .
Back to the shaman.
"Finally... finally, I can get out of here," he muttered, stuffing himself into the driver's seat. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with what he thought was fresh air.
Of course, his mind was far too scrambled to notice how odd it was—how a closed car could feel fresh.
His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, relief slowly washing over him. His eyes darted around the car.
The rearview mirror?
No one.
He cracked the window, glancing outside.
Still no one.
"Maybe they entered the house," he reassured himself.
The house... yes. He should—
Wait.
His blood turned cold. His heart skipped a beat.
"Someone's here with me."
He slowly turned to look at the backseat.
And almost screamed.
Two men sat there, staring him down.
One with a stoic glare, stone-faced.
The other smirking, almost amused.
They weren't the Kojima brothers. They were something worse, Apollo and Seonji were sitting in the back seat.
"I'm dead," the shaman thought—right before his body gave out. He collapsed unconscious, heart surrendering to sheer terror.
. . .
"When will this fucker wake up?" Gongseob muttered, his voice dripping with boredom. He gave the shaman a light kick and sighed.
It had been five minutes since Apollo and the newcomer dragged the shaman here—still unconscious.
Gongseob cracked a smirk.
"Guess I'll have to wake him up the old-fashioned way."
Without hesitation, he opened his pants slightly and began peeing directly on the shaman's face.
"Bleughh!"
The shaman jolted awake, choking and sputtering, his face scrunched in horror. As he looked around, his heart sank.
Standing around him was the entire First Generation he knew too well.
Apollo.
Taesoo.
Gongseob.
Jichang.
Seonji.
Jagyeon Na—who had just woken up earlier with a lazy smile.
Silence thickened the air.
It was Seonji who broke it.
"Why did you do it?"
Just one question—but it carried the weight of everything.
The shaman stammered, voice trembling, putting on a fake fervor.
"I—I was being forced! It was the brothers, they—they were the true heads! Please, believe me!"
Disgust rolled through the group.
The shaman saw it—the unconvinced looks. He could feel it.
'Fuck, fuck, fuck... I'm done for.'
Seonji asked again, voice steady.
"Why did you do it?"
The shaman, drowning in despair, felt a strange numbness crawl up his spine. What did it matter now? A dying man had no reason to lie.
He chuckled, a twisted sound.
"I did it because it was fun," he said. For once, there was no fear in his voice.
"I liked it. What? You wanted some tragic backstory? Some sob story about being forced?"
He grinned wide, showing crooked, rotting teeth.
"I had none. Fooling these dumb villagers, preying on women, watching them despair... It was so fun."
His face contorted into something hideous—something goblin-like.
"I see," Seonji said quietly.
His mind roiled.
"This is the man I was scared of...? No... It wasn't him. It was this village... these people. And they were all fooled by this monster."
Meanwhile, Apollo had another question—one far more pressing.
"Where's the red paper?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
The shaman's face twisted in confusion.
"What red paper?"
'Huh.'
........
Patreon-patreon.com/Immortal806