Chapter Text
Lee Felix was not employed in the most ethical sort of job. In fact, some would argue his line of work was the opposite of ethical. Lee Felix was a freelance worker in the mafia underground.
It wasn't his first choice of work - but a rough life and many unfortunate occurrences later, he was left almost homeless and absolutely broke. Doing what he did was his last option to stay alive - and everyone knows that once you’re in the business, you can’t get out. So, this was his life now. He was hired by numerous different gangs at any point in time to do their dirty work, essentially. Given the absolute bare minimum in terms of details and expected to carry out his mission; assassinations, theft, spying, stalking - he’d done it all. Felix wasn't well known and he definitely wasn't anyone important - and he liked it that way. As long as he could cash out at the end of the day, he was happy.
He had a few gangs who regularly employed his skills but by far his favourite - if you could even call it that - was the notorious group Stray Kids . Of all the people he worked for, Stray Kids were the most considerate. Of course, Felix had never actually met the Stray Kids before; why would he, when they were at opposite ends of the pecking order? But the seven gang leaders always gave direct orders to their middlemen to give their freelance workers medical attention if injured on the jobs they had ordered. It was almost definitely just a way to ensure that they could hang on to their usual hires to avoid constantly needing replacement, but Felix could honestly say that the treatment he had received through them had saved him from a gnarly infection on more than one occasion. Plus, their payment was more than satisfactory compared to any other gang.
Unfortunately, jobs from Stray Kids were few and far between, so Felix had to settle for the next best thing - like right now, as he scoped out a seemingly empty warehouse. The only information he’d been given by his employers was that there was a meeting taking place tonight between an unknown number of gangs. He didn't need to listen to their conversation; he didn't need to get involved. All that was required was for him to identify the gangs and report back. It was one of the easiest jobs he could be offered, in theory. Stick around to see who showed up, then dip before any shit went down. Theoretically, this should be a quick cash grab with little stress. At least, that’s what he thought before watching the Stray Kids waltz in from his vantage point in the rafters.
Of course nothing could ever be that easy, Felix bemoaned to himself. His employers had failed to mention that this wasn’t just some run-of-the-mill catchup , it was a full-fledged leaders’ meeting. Of the ten Stray Kids gang members who had arrived, 3 bore the glinting insignia of Stray Kids’ inner circle proudly on their lapel, their faces obscured with masks and caps. Felix gritted his teeth as he watched two other gangs enter the building, along with their respective leaders. As far as Felix was concerned, this didn't have to change anything. He’d be out in a second and getting his paycheck before eating some shitty dinner and calling it a day. The gangs had started to talk amongst each other, which Felix took as his cue to leave. He had the information he needed and he wasn't sticking around to get caught. But, just as he began shimmying his way over to his designated ‘escape window’, gunshots rang out across the warehouse. He barely had time to recover before all-out warfare had begun below him. Now it was really time to get going.
Looking down, Felix saw chaos. People were hiding behind the random junk scattered around the building and shooting at anything that moved. It was from this point Felix saw the exact moment a Stray Kids leader was shot. As he fell, his golden insignia shone into Felix’s eyes, as if beckoning him over. Felix didn't know what happened. One moment he was making his escape through the warehouse window, and the next he was by the gangster’s side, stemming the blood flow of his wound.
Now up close, Felix could identify the man as I.N, one of the seven leaders of Stray Kids. I.N’s status wouldn’t save him here, though. Felix’s hands were getting slicker by the second and blood steadily pulsed out of I.N’s side to the timing of his slowing heartbeat. Felix internally cursed himself - why did he have to get involved? He could be collecting his money right now and instead he’s knee deep in his own self-sabotaging ways. A wheeze from I.N snaps his attention back to the task at hand - he’d come this far, he may as well commit, right? Grimacing, Felix dragged I.N’s limp body further behind their cover and hoped they wouldn’t be spotted. The bullet had hit the meaty part of I.N’s torso, below his ribcage, and to Felix's untrained eye, it hadn’t seemed to get anything too important. He silently thanked any unknown forces in play - he was not prepared for an impromptu surgery. After a quick feel around I.N’s back, Felix confirmed there was no exit wound and got to work on treating what was possible. He had no idea if the man was even conscious, but he still muttered an apologetic “This is gonna hurt”, before shoving his fingers into I.N’s open wound and fishing around for the bullet he knew was still lodged inside. A pained grunt and the quickening of his breath revealed that I.N was , in fact, still conscious and feeling everything. Felix winced in sympathy but simultaneously grasped the metal he was searching for with blood-slick fingers, wrenching it out before he lost his grip. Letting the bullet clatter to the ground behind them, Felix immediately got to work ripping up his own shirt as a makeshift bandage, pushing up I.N’s soiled top and securing it firmly around the wound. He didn't have the means to stitch anything right now, so this was going to have to do.
Clambering back over the I.N’s face he gently tapped the man on his cheek to gain his attention. His eyes were glazed over and unseeing, but Felix hoped he was lucid enough to answer his one question.
“Hey.” A groan in response. “Do you know your rendezvous point?”
“Hm?”
“Rendezvous”, Felix shortened, helpfully.
“133 James Street”, I.N impressively managed to choke out - before promptly fainting. Felix could only hope he heard right as he scooped the injured man up with a little difficulty.
This was supposed to be an easy mission, lamented Felix as he rather ungracefully lowered the still-bleeding body of I.N at the supposed rendezvous point, shaking out his sore arms. Felix sighed. I’m not getting paid enough for this.