Archive of Our Own

Underneath a dark starless sky, six shadows flew from rooftop to rooftop.

They moved with the clouds in the sky, barely visible at the speed with which they were running and jumping from one building to the other. They could have easily been mistaken for stray animals seeking refuge or a place to rest, their bodies so quick at blending with the darkness and the shadows cast from the buildings of the dark city. No one had the chance to do that, though, because no one saw them in the first place.

The moon was the sole witness to their actions, but the moon wouldn’t betray them.

The moon was their friend, their companion on their dangerous missions. They were stripped bare before this satelite, all their secrets revealed to it, but the moon was the only thing they trusted as much as each other.

The six shadows leapt over one last rooftop one at a time. The one leading them, a boy with bright pink hair, gestured with his fingers for the remaining five to gather together beneath the shadow cast by the wall of the construction that led to the rooftop. Immediately understanding his command, the other five moved in unison, kneeling and keeping their heads low as they moved in the direction he’d indicated with the same slick and careful movements they’d scaled the rooftops with.

The pink-haired boy looked through a duffel bag that he’d been carrying before producing a piece of paper and unfolding it on the ground in front of his teammates, a blueprint of a house. They’d all seen it before, of course. What kind of robbers would they be if they didn’t know the places where they were going to strike?

Although, robbers wasn’t the term they would use to describe what they did.

They considered themselves something akin to justice seekers, or equalisers.

They merely tipped the scales a bit in favour of those in more desperate need.

Some people could do with less, that they knew for certain.

The pink-haired boy pointed a gloved finger to a corner of the building in the design. “This is right behind us,” he said, “We enter from this exhaust and through the ventilation system like we talked about. We’ll look for guards before going in.”

The others nodded in response.

“Does everyone remember where the vault is?” the boy asked.

“Yes,” they all replied.

Nodding, the pink-haired boy pulled a lighter out of his duffel bag, an old-fashioned silver one with the name ‘Yeo Hwanwoong’ embossed on it. It was a custom design that he’d purchased a few years ago, the name none other than his own one. He always brought it with him to their missions, albeit risky. One misstep, one misplacement could lead to it being discovered. After that, tracing it back to him would be as simple as a walk in the park.

But that was why Hwanwoong carried it. He liked the thrill, the rush of adrenaline, the danger, how easily he could be noticed.

That’s what people had always told him when he’d been on the streets, that he caught their attention, was impossible to miss. So he’d made himself even harder to miss. He’d dyed his hair bright colours, worn bold clothes to their missions and carried his name with him the whole time. Yet, this time, no one had ever seen him. He kept challenging them to, high off the adrenaline of the heists, but they never did.

“How could I resist when you’re looking so pretty like this? You’re begging for it,” vile voices echoed in his ears.

“I’d like to see you try now,” he wanted to shout back.

He flicked the lighter and placed the flame on the map, watching it ignite and curl up as the flames engulfed it. Soon after, there was nothing left of it but ashes that were already being carried away by the wind. Nothing to trace their presence or that there had been any plan by anyone for that night.

Slowly beginning to stand up again, Hwanwoong scanned the ground beneath them for anyone that could see them as they jumped onto the governor’s roof. Just like he’d planned while devising the heist, the streets were empty. The guards were positioned at the front of the building.

He licked his lips, tasting the cold air with the tip of his tongue and climbed onto the edge of the rooftop. With a swift leap, he was on the opposite building, and one final one placed him exactly where he’d aimed to be. He heard the sound of his friends landing close to him. They were hard to hear, all of them experts in making their presence unknown, but he’d known them for so long that he could even identify who was where by the sound they made as they landed. Youngjo was next to him on his left side, the one closest to him, Seoho right behind him, Keonhee on his right, further back than Youngjo, Dongju a little to the side and Geonhak right next to the youngest member of their team. He looked up, confirming his suspicions. It was moments like this before a mission when he knew that everything was going to go according to plan.

The exhaust via which they were going to enter was right in front of them. He didn’t have to say anything before Geonhak was twisting the top of it off and placing it on the ground, the entrance now clearer than ever. It was going to be tight, but there was no doubt that they were all going to fit just fine and crawl through the ventilation system even easier. The latter part, especially, they’d done so many times they could do it with their eyes closed.

Hwanwoong knew it was rare to find synergy like theirs, especially between people who had witnessed and experienced the worst of humanity and trusted with difficulty. But they’d found each other, and they knew that this group, at least, was safe. It still amazed them sometimes, how much trust they placed in this circle of friends, especially those like Hwanwoong, Keonhee and Seoho who had been alone for most of their lives. Luckily, Youngjo and Geonhak had had each other, but those three had been alone, and the one who had been on Dongju’s side was no longer with him. 

Trust came hard to them indeed, but they were more than strangers now. They were friends, and more than that, they were brothers, united by their experiences on the streets and by their missions, brought together by their shared hatred for inequality and injustice.

The metal of the vent made a sound as they landed on it one by one, their bags an even louder one. They stood still for a few seconds, waiting for any indication that they’d been heard, but nothing came. Just like they’d planned.

Governor Ahn Kwangmin was attending a reception that night, and he lived alone, so the house was empty. His guards were stationed at the front to prevent anyone from trying to enter or attack the building. And there had been many of those in the days leading up to the heist, ever since the news about the governor had come out.

Hwanwoong remembered and his blood boiled as he got down to crawl through the ventilation, the countless accounts of young women who had been in the presence of the governor before, and who had been sexually assaulted by him. The instances had been far too many for all of them to give their story to the press, one newspaper had reported that they would have required a newspaper of their own to share them all. The public had been outraged. Television broadcasts had shown crowds of protestors gathered outside the governor’s house demanding justice for his victims, but the man had made no statement, no attempt to acknowledge the accusations, and had been able to keep his position.

And thus, he had become the perfect target for the six robbers.

“Get ready to lose everything you thought you could save, governor,” Hwanwoong muttered as he pushed the opening of the vent and watched it fall to the ground.

With expert speed, he’d jumped out and caught it before it could land and potentially give them away.

Putting it down, he gestured to the remaining members of his group to follow him. He looked around the room and quickly recognised it from the blueprint as exactly the place he’d wanted to lead them to. He knew that there were going to be security cameras close by, as they were near the entrance to the governor’s vault. The man was a monster, but a smart one. He knew not to leave precious things unguarded. That wasn’t going to save them, however.

A careful look around the area and he found it, a stark white bullet camera pointing in the direction of where he knew that vault was located. Hwanwoong nudged Youngjo’s shoulder and pointed at it. The other didn’t have to be told anything more before he moved towards it wearily. Staying close to the wall, he discovered the control panel and opened the bag he’d been carrying to pull out a screwdriver. Getting to work, he loosened the screws attaching the front of the panel to the wall, taking each of the ones he freed into his gloved hands so he wouldn’t drop them on the floor. Once the camera was deactivated they would be free to talk as much as they pleased, but until then they would have to wait.

Hwanwoong left Youngjo on his own, knowing that he wasn’t needed for the man to do his job well. Youngjo’s knowledge of computer systems was second to none, maybe not even government officials. Hwanwoong was certain that he could send the whole city into a blackout if he asked for it.

The other five members of their team were waiting for him in front of the vent. Keonhee was rummaging through a bag, looking for the equipment he would need to open the vault so they wouldn’t lose any time while they reached it. The bag was relatively empty, only carrying those objects, rope for climbing, spare gloves and some guns that they all knew how to operate in case the worst scenario happened. It had never come to that before, thankfully, but when they’d first started going on these missions they’d learned how to operate a weapon. Better be safe than sorry, they’d agreed. Seoho had been the only one who had used one before, during the times when he’d been a part of a gang when he’d been living on the streets.

He was the only one of them who had killed someone before.

When Keonhee had gathered a few things in his hands he gave Hwanwoong an okay sign; he was ready. The pink-haired boy didn’t know how he’d become their unofficial leader, but he tried his best to lead them in the best way he could and give them the least trouble possible. That wasn’t always possible, sadly, but he put lots of thought into every plan he devised and took care to have all the necessary information to ensure their safe entrance, exit and finally, the deposit of their findings to the homeless shelters they donated to.

As much as it would make sense to keep their loots themselves, they’d started working together like this so they could provide for those who were living in the conditions they had been in. They donated the money they stole to homeless shelters and gave it to people who slept on the side of the street. Seeing a man he’d given money to with a new blanket had been one of the most hopeful moments of Hwanwoong’s life. He remembered how harsh the ground had been when he’d tried to sleep, how the gravel had dug into his skin, how humiliating it had been to have his head lying where everyone’s feet were. If he could take someone out of that life he would dedicate his life to it.

He only allowed himself to keep the small amount he and his friends would need to survive on their own. Their rent wasn’t too high, which was to be expected from the apartment that had been meant for two or three people they’d rented. Despite its size, it didn’t feel small. To the six boys who had grown up behind dumpsters and in dirty alleys, it seemed like a whole kingdom. The biggest expense of living together was the food supplies. A small amount of their earnings from each break-in was more than enough to cover them, so that was all they took. Everything else belonged to the homeless.

He sat down next to Dongju as they watched Youngjo work on the cords of the security camera. With the bag of tools next to him, he could have passed for a repair service that had been hired to aid the governor with his electrical circuits. He always kept his tools separate from the others until he was finished, for easier access. Once he was done, they went into the communal equipment bag along with the guns, Keonhee’s things and other necessities. 

The two other bags they brought always left the buildings they broke into full of money and other valuables.

Youngjo let out an exclamation of joy as he snipped one of the cables in half and dropped his pruner. He cracked his knuckles as he walked away from the control panel.

“All done,” he announced proudly.

“I could kiss you, Youngjo” Hwanwoong exclaimed, springing up from his sitting position with excitement.

Youngjo chuckled and shook his head. He tossed his equipment into the bag Geonhak was holding open and gave Hwanwoong’s shoulder a pat. “What you’re going to kiss is the money we’ll find inside that vault,” he said.

Hwanwoong couldn’t deny that statement. He already felt intoxicated thinking about it. He laughed darkly and shrugged the hand off of his shoulder. He could almost see their loot before his eyes, the colours of the bank notes, the gold bars, the countless watches that all showed a different time and the governor only owned to show off. He wondered if Ahn had a favourite among them, maybe one with the biggest diamond in the center or with the most jewels on the strap, and if that had been the one he’d worn that night before leaving the house. He didn’t know it was going to be the only one he would have left after they were done with him.

But he could think about that later. Right now, they had limited time until someone noticed that the vault’s security camera had been disabled (half an hour according to his calculations), so they had to get done with their work and head out as soon as possible. He composed himself and picked up the now empty bag that Youngjo had left near the control panel. 

“Let’s move,” he said to his team.

They scrambled after him, running into the room they’d been aiming for.

Just as they’d imagined and pictured from the building’s blueprints, a massive silver vault greeted them. The room was otherwise empty, all the guards had indeed been sent to the front entrance. While that was useful at the moment, it would pose a problem when they would have to escape. But Hwanwoong had time to think of a plan to get rid of them by then. He’d devised complex plans that had been successful in less time than what they currently had.

That was his role in the team: planning. Leading the team had come unexpectedly, but the device of every stage of their missions had always been his strong suit. Just like Keonhee had a talent for picking locks and cracking combinations, which he was doing right then in front of the vault, jaw set in concentration, Hwanwoong’s time homeless had given him insight on all the cracks and openings he could slip into to hide. Soon, that had evolved to entering buildings so he could sleep at nights, and his speed and agility while doing so had also improved. He’d had to learn how to protect himself from those who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves and saw him as nothing but a warm body for a few hours, because on the streets day, night, the words ‘yes’ and ‘no’... none of them meant anything. He was glad that he’d at least made a living out of his trauma since leaving those dark alleyways behind him.

Similarly, out of the need to protect himself and Youngjo, Geonhak had gained strength and fighting abilities, and was still the best at it among them. He had been appointed as the one in charge of physical altercations in case they ever encountered any. Youngjo had learned everything he could about technology and applied that knowledge to their missions, Seoho had trained the rest and showed them how to use weapons, as well as being entrusted with the ones they owned and Dongju with his charms and quick thinking could get them any file or document they needed. After deciding on a target, he learned their schedule, got access to their house’s blueprints and gathered any other information he could so that Hwanwoong could plan the entry and assign duties to everyone.

Their plans had all been successful so far.

They’d even heard the news talk about them multiple times, but not even the police had ever made the connection between all their activities. They were exactly what they wanted to be, an invisible group of invisible people who committed very visible deeds.

Keonhee pressed his ear to the vault as he fiddled with the combination lock. It made noise every time he changed the numbers and his team waited with baited breath for the click that would mean they had access to the inside of the vault.

“How long has he been?” Seoho asked.

“Four minutes,” Hwanwoong responded, checking his timer. He always timed Keonhee when he played with the locks so they could know how much more time they had left until they had to be out of the house. It also served as a type of praise for the boy. He asked Hwanwoong how long it had taken him every time he cracked a lock open and beamed with pride whenever the number was lower than his previous one. His self-worth was low, Hwanwoong knew that, something leaving the streets had never fixed for him, so he made up for it by improving on their heists.

Finally, the lock beeped and the lights around the code flashed green. Keonhee let out an exclamation of joy and smiled, teeth showing and eyes crinkling at the edges, as he stood back up.

“How long, Woong?” he asked.

Hwanwoong looked down at his timer. “Four minutes, twenty-seven seconds,” he replied.

Keonhee pouted at his words. “That’s longer than last time,” he muttered.

“This was a tough one, we knew he might have changed the code recently with all the news breaking out,” Hwanwoong told him, handing Seoho the timer so he could put it away, “You did well, Keonhee.”

Expressing his gratitude came hard to him, so he hoped that his friend knew how genuine he was when he complimented him. He admitted that he’d worried Keonhee would have taken longer with that particular lock, but he’d proved him wrong and should be proud of that. Hwanwoong definitely was.

He let Keonhee do the honours of opening the vault for the rest of them. He could see everyone’s eyes shining as they saw inside. Every heist, Hwanwoong imagined what the treasures they were going to discover would look like, and every time they proved to be better than what his mind could have ever conjured up. This was no exception. Stacks of money were placed in the middle of the room, like the tall tower of a king that the governor definitely thought he was, surrounded by gold bars, large diamonds and boxes that could only be filled to the brim with jewellery and other precious items.

Hwanwoong ran inside as if in a trance. He kneeled in front of one such box and lifted the lid. He was met with pearl and diamond necklaces, rings, bracelets, watches, even tiaras. Hwanwoong wondered what Ahn did with all of them. He was a bachelor, and had no respect for the female gender, so he doubted he offered them to someone as gifts. He probably kept them for himself, enjoying the fact that he possessed such rare and beautiful treasures.

The boy laughed loudly as he tried to picture Ahn’s face when he returned to his home and found them all gone. He’d never stuck around long enough to see someone’s reaction to a heist, so in this case he had only his mental pictures to go by, but he knew that it would be just like uncovering a new vault.

He pulled a necklace that sparkled with blue gems out of the box and turned around. “Dongju,” he called to the youngest of their team, “This is yours.”

The boy smiled at the sentence, rushing to him so he could take it and put it on, posing so Hwanwoong could admire him before rummaging through the box for more jewellery he could wear. All of them had things they had a weakness for, and to Dongju that was sparkling accessories.

As the younger boy enjoyed himself, giggling with joy, Hwanwoong picked up a pack of money and threw it to Seoho.

“Why are you all standing there?” he asked his friends.

That was all they needed to join him inside the vault.

At first they were calm, taking stacks of money and shoving them into their bags, but it didn’t take long for them to lose control and let go of their calm demeanor. It always happened to them and it was impossible to tell who started it, but every time they broke into a vault they found themselves running, throwings things at one another, playing with their findings and laughing.

Seoho threw a handful of bank notes that he’d freed from the band that held them together into the air as if he was a child playing with the leaves that had fallen from a tree on an autumn day. Dongju had placed a diamond tiara on Keonhee’s head and was adjusting it for him, smiling and showering him with endless compliments. Meanwhile, Youngjo and Geonhak were throwing money off of the huge stack and throwing and kicking it around. But they were all laughing with genuine bliss as they did so.

It may have been chaotic, but it looked more like a children’s playground than a scene of chaos.

They were children playing with the only toys they could get their hands on, trying to construct a childhood they’d never had out of memories of safety so few they clung onto them like a lifeline and each other’s presence.

Hwanwoong freed a single bank note from its pack and brought it to his nose. He wasn’t going to kiss it like Youngjo had suggested, but just like each of them had a vice, this was his. He smelled it, breathing in the familiar scent of wealth and power and laughing euphorically.

But he detected something else along with that as well: justice.

He looked around and tried to categorise the money inside the vault into the ways it could have reached governor Ahn. Some from taxes raised too high for anyone, some from his salary, some from illegal activities he hid from the world, some perhaps as bribes he’d accepted in order to not tarnish someone’s reputation. Hwanwoong thought for a second that a man as rotten as Ahn might have even demanded money from his victims as a threat, that he wouldn’t destroy their lives if they didn’t expose what he’d done to them.

The fiery feeling inside him changed from ecstasy to rage and he crumpled the note he was holding in his hand. He didn’t allow himself to fall into his emotions often, preferring to keep up a strong façade for the sake of appearing like a better leader to his friends, but the truth was that he had a weak side, one that few had seen, and all but one of those he’d left behind after escaping the streets.

The other one was Youngjo.

His friend had seen him succumb to his trauma before, had waited patiently by his side and guided him through breathing exercises until Hwanwoong felt comfortable enough to let him touch him again. He’d sat with him quietly when he’d woken from night terrors and listened to all the retellings of events Hwanwoong could never forget. 

Everyone knew what had happened to him, just like they knew about all of them, but Youngjo was the only one who knew the full extent. He was the only one who fully understood why Hwanwoong made himself as visible as possible only to disappear easier than anyone had ever noticed him, brought his name with him wherever he went and left traces of himself everywhere that would never be discovered. And so Youngjo was the one he went to whenever he fell into a flashback or the feelings of helplessness or anger this side of him brought to the surface.

He tried not to let it happen during missions, but this particular one reminded him of too many things he would rather forget. He hadn’t met governor Ahn before, but he hated him more than he hated any other person they’d stolen from. He hated that a man like him could have so much power and continue to maintain it despite the news that had come out about him. And he hated him even more because he knew that the governor had taken part in receptions and parties aimed at helping the poor before, where elites would enjoy themselves and raise minimal funds that they would then donate to whatever cause they thought helped.

He doubted they actually cared enough to look into what was actually happening in the world, and yet those bastards claimed they did and that they were there for their fellow citizens.

He wondered where they had been when Seoho was being forced to point guns at people and pull the trigger so that he would be able to live another day under the harsh rule of street gangs, where they had been when Geonhak and Youngjo would have to fight others for scraps of food that they would then have to split in half, where they had been when people would spit on Keonhee for sitting on the pavement and “getting in their way”, where they had been when Hwanwoong was being pulled into side alleys and raped on a daily basis in broad daylight, where they had been when Youngjo had found Dongju sick and barely clinging to life, curled up on the ground behind a restaurant next to the cold body of his brother who had suffered the same sickness as him but been less fortunate.

They had been holding their parties like always, and making their followers believe that they cared about helping others.

All while being monsters, like Ahn.

His rage took over him and he dropped what he was holding and walked over to the duffel bags they’d brought into the vault.

“Let’s pack up and leave!” he announced. 

With swift movements, he picked up a handful of jewels and gold bars, avoiding the money in fear of tearing it with how unsteady and shaky his hands were. The poor needed that money, he didn’t want to risk not being able to deliver it to them.

At his word, his friends ceased what they were doing. He’d spoken to them so sternly in a tone that they knew meant urgency. Whether they had run out of time or if their leader had encountered some other kind of trouble, they didn’t know, but they listened to him nonetheless, knowing that something was happening for him to call an end to the heist in that way.

They helped him put everything they’d found inside the vault into the duffel bags, leaving not even a single bank note or gem behind. They all hated the unfair wealth of people like this, so they weren’t going to leave anything behind for them once they’d entered their lives.

Tentatively, Youngjo approached Hwanwoong and held his hand out, palm facing up and still. It was a code the two had developed between them for when Youngjo felt the other was becoming uncomfortable. He would hold his hand out for him like that as if asking, “Are you okay? Can I touch you?” If Hwanwoong placed his hand on his, “Yes, I am. You can.” If he pushed it away, “I’m still alright, but don’t touch me.” And if he avoided him altogether, “I’m not well and I don’t want to be touched.”

Fingers twitching, Hwanwoong reached out and pushed Youngjo’s hand away.

The other man looked down at him, gaze soft and comforting and nodded understandingly.

“We’ll talk later,” Hwanwoong told him, “Let’s get out first.”

Youngjo nodded and the two went back to the task at hand. 

The two duffel bags were soon filled with money and valuables. The thieves scanned the floor of the vault to make sure there was nothing left before their leader gave them the sign to move out and proceed to the exit.

Where they went after that they would find out shortly.

In Hwanwoong’s original plan, the guards outside the house would be rotating so they could be keeping watch from all angles, but that wasn’t the case as they’d discovered upon arrival. All of them were situated to the front of the property. It had worried the robbers, but they’d trusted their leader to come up with an escape plan for them like he always did. They would make it out, they knew it.

Hwanwoong kept his back to the wall as he led his team through the house. The vent they’d entered from could have been an option, but the fear of someone noticing the top was missing made him unsure of heading back in that direction. For all he knew, some guards might have seen it and were searching for them inside the house as they moved. No, he couldn’t risk it.

So he’d thought of something else.

In some ways, it might turn out to be an even more dangerous plan, but if it worked it would get them out without leaving a trace. 

He knew the house’s blueprint by heart, knew exactly which corners to turn to get where he wanted to. His team didn’t question him as he led them through the house, their duffel bags making some noise occasionally as the objects inside them bumped into each other.

He heard Dongju gasp as the younger realised where they were going.

“Are you crazy?” the boy hissed, keeping his voice down.

“It’s the best way out,” Hwanwoong replied.

“It’s a death sentence!” Dongju insisted, “There’s no way they won’t see us!”

“That’s exactly what we want, Dongju,” Hwanwoong smiled back at him.

Before the younger could ask any more questions, Hwanwoong pushed open a door and ran inside a room, summoning the others to follow him and closing the door behind them when they did.

“Why are we in Ahn’s study?” Geonhak asked him.

“I’m getting us out,” Hwanwoong replied, “Youngjo, give me your bag.”

The man seemed unsure but handed it over anyway. Hwanwoong opened the bag and rummaged through it until he reached the objects at the bottom of the bag and pulled one out. 

He heard Keonhee next to him gulp at the sight of the gun, still not used to them even after all the years they’d spent together. The weapon was an AEK-971 rifle, the biggest gun they’d brought with them to the heist. Wordlessly, Hwanwoong tossed it to Seoho who caught it easily.

“I want you to get on the balcony and shoot at the guards,” Hwanwoong instructed him.

“What?!” Keonhee and Dongju exclaimed at the same time, barely managing to not scream.

Seoho, on the other hand, nodded. “But miss,” he said, sensing the direction in which his leader’s plan was going.

“Exactly,” the other nodded, “Fire another shot if you must, but make sure that all of them leave the front and come under this window.”

“Consider it done,” Seoho replied.

He and Hwanwoong clasped hands, a silent wish of good luck and a reminder of how important they were to each other.

“While the guards are distracted thinking someone is attacking them we’ll escape from the other side,” Hwanwoong continued, “Which means we have five minutes at most to get out after Seoho’s first shot. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” they all replied.

“Let’s do it then,” Hwanwoong said.

He positioned himself at the door, ready to run with the others as Seoho cracked the balcony door open silently and stepped outside, rifle in hand. Hwanwoong signalled to the others to leave the study before giving him a nod. Nodding in response, Seogo raised the gun, pointing it in the direction of the front of the building, and pulled the trigger.

The shot rang clear and definitely caught the attention of the guards, but Hwanwoong didn’t stay to see what happened for himself. By the time he heard the second shot from Seoho, he was running through the house, crossing room after room and leaping over pieces of furniture that came in his way. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins and he didn’t let himself think of anything other than a mantra of, “Get out! Get out!”

The study was located on the left side of the house, right over a street, and the room he’d led the others to now was on the exact opposite side. The guards were as far as they could get, the right distance for them to escape. He almost crashed into a window with the speed he was running at, but stopped himself and with careful but quick hands opened the window and stepped to the side.

“Out!” he ordered his friends.

The drop to the ground was big, but it was their best chance. He could calculate the distance in his mind and knew that they would survive the fall. His brain was ticking like a clock, giving him the exact seconds of time that had passed since Seoho first shot at the guards and was telling him that they could make it if they hurried.

Youngjo was the first to step out, trusting Hwanwoong with his life and knowing that he would never present them with a choice that would lead to certain death. He stepped onto the ledge and jumped, landing on his feet. He stood back up and signalled to the rest to follow him.

Geonhak was next, throwing down their bags of loot and weapons to the other before jumping out himself, followed by Dongju and Keonhee. Right as the last one jumped and was caught by Geonhak and Youngjo, Hwanwoong saw Seoho running towards them, gun still in hand.

“Out the window,” Hwanwoong simply said. He would leave the sappy talk for when they were all home and safe.

Seoho threw the gun down first, and jumped out of the window once it had fallen to the ground below him.

Lastly, giving the house a look of hatred, Hwanwoong stepped onto the ledge and leapt out of the window. He landed in Youngjo’s arms, the man lowering him to the ground immediately after catching him, not forgetting their non-verbal conversation from inside the vault. Hwanwoong was grateful for that.

“Ready to go?” Geonhak asked, picking up the bags and slinging them over his shoulders. Seoho had picked up the rifle and was putting it into the equipment bag.

Hwanwoong could have said yes. By all means, the mission had been a success. They’d picked up a satisfying loot and gotten out unscathed.

But inside he was itching for something more.

He took the equipment bag from Seoho and looked through it. “One more thing,” he said.

He pulled the object he’d been searching for out, and knew that his friends understood what he wanted. He’d only done this a few times before, all in relation to missions he’d felt a personal connection to, and this one was the strongest he’d ever felt one to.

He stroked the side of his flamethrower softly, feeling the metal beneath his gloved hands. The gloves with the leopard print that he’d worn to that mission complemented the weapon well, he thought.

He raised the flamethrower, gripping it tightly, and heard everyone’s footsteps as they took some steps back from him. He counted how many each of them took.

He aimed in the direction of the window they’d left through and steadied his grip, finger hovering over the trigger.

“Go to hell, Ahn Kwangmin,” he spat, hatred thick in his voice as he pulled the trigger.

Flames shot out of the gun and wrapped around the side of the building.

The sound was loud, and the guards definitely heard it, but they had some time before they would appear. They could still get out. That was all that mattered.

Hwanwoong lowered the gun once he could see the inside of the house in flames through the window. It would spread that way. Maybe it wouldn’t burn down the whole house, but it would damage quite a big amount of Ahn’s property.

Just like monsters like him deserved.

He put the flamethrower into the duffel bag he’d taken it from and turned back to his friends, gesturing towards a back street with his head. 

“Let’s go,” he said, “There’s a sewage system running underneath.”

They took off in the direction he’d shown them and in a flash they were gone, vanishing from sight like the shadows they’d seemed like when they’d appeared in the neighbourhood.

They slipped into corners and through small undetected entrances like ghosts and only the moon saw what had taken place.