Chapter Text
Daniel Park really does live an unpredictable life. Just when he thought he had already hit rock bottom, he sinks even lower. Sure, sure, there’s nothing wrong with seeking help. In fact, it is even better to resort to that rather than foolishly navigating a situation you don’t know how to get out of like a headless chicken. But running to the last person you’d ever want to owe any favor to out of loss of hope in your own team? I guess that could be up for a good hour of debate.
“Ansan Public, huh?" A thin veil of smoke slips past Gun’s lips. “I don’t know why you even bother with those lackeys. Even I forgot about that crew’s existence. Besides, shouldn’t you be working your way up to the second affiliate by now?" He takes a long drag on the cigarette in his left hand, puffing out the smoke directly in Daniel’s direction. “If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll help with that."
Daniel grimaces. Both at Gun’s last line and the smell of smoke that had crept its way up to his nostrils. “No. No, thank you. I made it past the fourth and third affiliate with little to no help from you; I think I can handle the next ones by myself just fine."
“Fine. Suit yourself.”
“Fine,” he retorts, not even bothering to hide how he’s losing patience with his tone. “...So are you gonna help me with this or not? Because if not, I know some other people who can.”
That was a lie (and Daniel prayed to whoever was listening that he sounded confident enough to fly under Gun’s bullshit radar). The last time he sought help from his dear friends, plan’s gotten foiled like a baked salmon, thanks to their (Daniel himself not excluded) wonky emotional management. Especially Eli, who had shamelessly choked one of the crew members on sight after bullshitting him into believing that he was calm enough to carry out his part in the plan. He appreciated Eli’s spirit... but come on.
After some time of thinking and being in the stage of denial, Daniel finally admitted to himself that his chosen team can’t possibly take on a crew like that with their current footing and state of mind. He needs help from someone beyond their league. Unfortunately, to Daniel’s displeasure, that someone happened to be the person he had been trying to never cross paths with again, now standing just a few meters away from him in the same old abandoned classroom where they last saw each other.
A real low point, but fuck it, whatever. Daniel’s willing to swallow the last ounce of pride left in him just to make even with the Ansan crew for what they did to his friends. That's all that matters now.
Gun chuckles as he takes another drag on his cigarette. The kid is hopeless at being a decent liar. “Really? Give me names then."
Oh, goddamnit. Daniel should’ve seen this coming. Luckily, he’s got a few names at the top of his head.
“Jake." Well, he helped Daniel in the third affiliate somehow (technically, it was his other body that Jake helped, but still). It wouldn’t be quite a stretch to assume that he’d help again, right?
“Fat chance.” Gun settles himself above a teacher’s desk, one leg crossed above the other. “Your little mission’s got nothing to do with his crew’s former leader.”
Daniel stands still at his current spot, unwittingly blinking at the other person across from him as he tries to remember the former leader of Jake’s crew that Gun had just mentioned. Who’s that person he was so desperate to find in Club Vivi again? Drugs, drugs, drugs... Simon? Sinu? Was that it? But wasn’t that Sinu person his brother? Daniel shakes off his thoughts. There’s more time to think about that later.
“Besides,” Gun adds. “I wouldn’t be so sure about receiving help from him if I were you. Especially after that…” He trails off, loosely waving his hand at the height of Daniel’s figure from his spot, “little show you’ve put on in the third affiliate. But I have to admit that I was once again impressed by you. Truly.”
Daniel’s eyebrows furrow. Does this guy have some kinda news outlet that’s dedicated to him and his sick little playground? “You literally weren’t there.”
“Some guy told me—and he wasn’t all happy about it.” A smirk emerges on Gun’s face upon remembering the sight of a certain someone coming home badly bruised. “Careful the next time you see him.”
Oh, that blond psychopath. Well, he did say he was there on behalf of Gun that day.
Daniel narrows his eyes.
Which other name would go well with his lie? Warren? Good one, but he’ll probably just react the same way as Eli. Vin and Mary? Nah, they’ve got their own thing going on and Daniel didn’t even interact with them that much in the past for him to be comfortable enough to ask for favors. Besides, it’s not like Vin Jin can see shit. Doo Lee? Hmm—wait, where the hell is Doo now? The last time they saw each other was when he rescued Daniel from becoming a human soup in Club ViVi. But, eh, they’ll probably meet again sometime in the future. No need to rack brains worrying about it. Olly? Oh, for fuck’s sake, he’s dead. Why would he even consider him?
Ah.
"Johan."
“Highly doubt you have enough cash for his service.”
Well, that’s true. Johan’s in dire need of money for something he never bothered to tell. There’s no way he’ll exert any effort to help Daniel out of goodwill.
"Also, I think you must be forgetting that Johan was also in Club ViVi. Might wanna reconsider that decision."
Daniel squints his eyes even more. Goddamnit, he’s losing this name game. If he’s not getting any help from this bastard, he might as well not lose his pride in this way.
“Kou… ji?”
“Oh, come on.” Gun sighs, undecided on whether he finds Daniel’s ability to go on with his bluff despite being painfully obvious from the very beginning hilarious or just simply disappointing. “You’re just running out of shit to say now.”
That marks the end of Daniel’s attempt to ask for his favor. This entire meeting has been nothing but a waste of time and a potential headache source for the upcoming days. Daniel wanted to run himself through a concrete wall for being stupid enough to have hope of this madman actually hearing him out.
“Whatever, I’m heading out.” He clutches his bag straps as he starts dragging his feet to the doorless doorway of the classroom. “Looks like you have no interest in helping, anyway.”
Gun watches Daniel’s back in amusement as he nears the exit. In all honesty, Gun didn’t know how to respond to the other’s request. Given his position in the underworld of two separate countries, he’s got a legion of teenage outlaws who would be more than willing to pull all sorts of stunts just to be in his favor—just take Samuel as an example. Daniel's is one he didn’t see coming; didn’t even bother thinking about it as a joke. But, oh well, what do you know? Life is full of unexpected twists and turns.
“How about this—” He hops off the desk and stubs his half-consumed cigarette out against the floor with the sole of his shoe. “If you come up with something for me in this deal that’s convincing enough, I’ll consider your request.”
Daniel paused, one foot already out of the room. He turns his head sideways to look back at Gun, who's now standing and leaning against the edge of the teacher's desk, for a few seconds before completely pivoting on his heel to return to his previous spot.
There was a long, dragging silence between the two. Daniel was sizing up Gun's intentions while the other was just waiting in amusement to see how he would take up the challenge.
“Fine," Daniel surrenders. “I’ll give your black badge back,” he bitterly mumbles, already regretting what he had just offered in exchange for his deal. Man, he really had the time of his life enjoying the privileges of that black badge in hopes that Gun had suffered a great financial loss with how he blew it in the third affiliate.
The other tilted his head with a raised eyebrow, obviously disinterested. To Daniel’s surprise, he found himself somewhat relieved that Gun didn’t want his black badge back yet. But factually speaking, if letting another person enjoy his privileges was something of great importance to him, he wouldn’t even have gifted it to Daniel in the first place.
“I'll beat up the Workers' chairman for you." It would be a win-win situation. Daniel could bring justice to all the innocent people that became entangled in the atrocities of all the affiliates' businesses. At the same time, Gun could just simply enjoy the thought of their chairman being beaten into a pulp. Daniel’s gut feeling tells him that Gun doesn’t seem to like the Workers’ chairman very much.
“You're getting pretty ballsy now, huh. Can't say I'm displeased by this, but good luck with that,” Gun replies. “You'll need it.”
Well, that didn't work.
"I’ll… exchange numbers with you?" The sheer hesitance he didn’t even bother masking anymore ended up making the statement sound like a question. It's pretty obvious that he’s really out of bullets now. But hey, I’ll be damned if Gun does buy it.
Gun lowers his head at an angle. Sunglasses slide down his nose bridge, giving Daniel a better view of the ridiculed look on his face. “Now, that's just really offensive and humbling. You’re flattering yourself too much if you think you have the slightest chance of bribing me with something like that."
Now the humbled one is Daniel. He didn’t know what came over his mind, but truth be told, he somewhat expected that Gun would take the bait. Well, it’s not a stretch to think about it; if you take their last interaction months ago in the same exact place where they’re standing at the moment, in context. But tough luck for him; Gun takes these kinds of negotiations very seriously.
And Daniel’s patience is nearing sub-zero.
“Well, what do you want, then?” He snaps back.
“You're not that stupid to not know.”
Goddamnit, this devious bastard. This is what Daniel's been trying to avoid since the day Gun brought it up for the first time. He's set up the entire conversation from the beginning to reach this point. Daniel should've expected this scenario while in deep contemplation on the train ride to this godforsaken building.
For about a minute or so, there was nothing in the room that could be heard except for the whistling of the wind coming from behind the ajar rusty windows. Some comical cricket noises could have also been perfect to fill in the dreadful silence between the two as they estimate each other’s next move.
The long, grave silence could have dragged on until the crack of dawn if Gun hadn’t decided to cut the first turf by tapping his foot against the floor.
He points to the face of his watch. “Your visiting hours are almost over.”
Daniel gazes up at the ever-so-eager man in the room. God knows the things he would so desperately do just to wipe off that winning look on his face. But he’s come this far now, and the help he needed so badly is now only within his reach. Only an egotistical fool would pass up on this opportunity.
It's a good thing Daniel was just a fool.
“Alright, you win," he concedes, shoulders slumped as if he was a general who had just lost a major war. “If you don’t play with me here, I will take your offer about being your successor or something into serious consideration." He shoots him with a deadpan look on his face. “Satisfied?”
Daniel tucked his right arm behind his back, fingers crossed as he prayed to all the gods he could name that Gun would somehow miraculously get selective amnesia after this deal and forget about him caving into his long-running offer of being his successor.
“Not exactly." Gun takes a few steps closer to Daniel and stops just a few inches away from the other. His hands make their way to the lapel of Daniel's navy blue uniform blazer to soothe out the crease that has been bothering him for a while now. “End results always matter more, but progress is progress, don't you think so?"
“I said I will only take it into consideration. Don’t get too excited.”
“Eh." Gun shrugs. He briefly grazes Daniel's cheek with the back of his hand. For a split second, Daniel felt a high-voltage surge through his nerves, driving his heart to pound within his ribcage like an animal pleading to be freed; it's an ugly feeling. Gun puts his hands back in his pockets before turning his back on the other, grinning to himself. “You’ll come around."