Chương 12: After Rain II
Kevin glanced at Kiriko walking beside him, trying to gauge her reaction. She seemed calm, though he could feel her curiosity brewing. Jinyoung, the youngest and most talkative of the group, was the first to introduce himself, followed by Kevin and then Jacob. Kiriko paused, looking at them with a spark of recognition.
"I've seen you guys before," she said, tilting her head slightly, "in my brother's phone. He said you were his friends. Who are you?"
Jacob and Jinyoung exchanged glances, their hearts swelling at Toji's choice of words. They weren't just tools or fighters to him; they were part of something more that even Toji might not admit openly, making them smile genuinely.
"Where's my brother?" Kiriko asked, her tone growing more concerned. "What's so urgent?"
Kevin hesitated for a second. "It's just... some problem with another group of students. Nothing serious," he said, careful not to reveal too much. The last thing he wanted was to let slip anything about the fight that Toji was in or the danger she might be in. He needed to protect Toji's secret and, more importantly, Kiriko.
Soon, they reached Kiriko's house, a quiet place that stood in contrast to the chaos they had just left behind. Jacob gave a command to the motorcycle gang members, instructing them to patrol the area and ensure Kiriko's safety. The street hummed with the sound of engines as they took their positions, a silent but powerful force watching over the house.
Kiriko tried to invite them inside, her natural politeness shining through. "Why don't you guys come in for a while?" she offered. But Kevin shook his head, quickly declining.
"We've got something important to take care of," he said, casting a glance at Jacob, who nodded in agreement. "But don't worry, Jinyoung will stay with you. He's more than capable."
Kiriko raised an eyebrow at that. Jinyoung, though sharp and clever, was still a middle school kid. His connection to Toji was a mystery to her, but she didn't press. She gave a small smile, accepting that Toji must trust him for a reason.
Inside the house, Kiriko greeted her mother, who seemed pleasantly surprised by the sudden visit. Jinyoung bowed respectfully, addressing her as "Mrs. Park" with the utmost politeness. Kiriko decided to keep today's events from her mother. She didn't want to worry her, especially when everything seemed under control for the time being.
Jinyoung, ever the sly one, handled the situation smoothly. After some light conversation, Toji's mother insisted that he stay for tea and snacks, not taking no for an answer. While sipping on tea, she asked curiously, "So, why are you here, Jinyoung?"
Without missing a beat, Jinyoung put on an innocent face and replied, "Oh, I just forgot my phone earlier, and Kiriko-noona offered to help me find it. I needed to make a quick call to my parents."
Pulling out his phone, Jinyoung pretended to dial, speaking to no one on the other end as he made up a conversation. "Yes, mom, I'm at Kiriko-noona's house. Oh? You'll call me back? Okay, I'll wait."
Kiriko observed him with raised eyebrows, clearly impressed by his quick thinking. Jinyoung had crafted the perfect excuse to stay until things settled down. He had the ability to adapt to situations on the fly, and Kiriko couldn't help but admire the young boy's cleverness. He was definitely more than met the eye.
Toji's mother, none the wiser, smiled warmly. "Of course, Jinyoung. You can stay as long as you need to."
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Toji stood amidst the wreckage, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. The remnants of Big Deal's men lay scattered around him—bodies broken, faces bloodied, groans of agony filling the air. His shredded shirt clung to his blood-splattered body, the fabric barely holding together after the carnage he had unleashed. He glanced down at himself, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes as he brushed off bits of blood and dirt.
The fight had been nothing more than an exercise for him, a way to get his muscles moving after what felt like a long period of inactivity. Toji, the seasoned assassin and leader of the feared Division, had fought his way through over a hundred men, and yet not a single drop of his own blood had been spilled. His body barely showed signs of exertion; this was routine, child's play for someone like him.
As he looked at the time, he exhaled a plume of smoke, his cold eyes scanning the chaos he'd left in his wake. "What a drag..." he muttered to himself. It wasn't exhaustion he felt—it was boredom. He'd hoped for something more challenging, something that might actually push him. But even the infamous Big Deal hadn't been able to provide that. It was disappointing, to say the least.
Turning his head, Toji spotted four figures standing frozen at the edge of the carnage. His sharp eyes flicked to the name tags on their shirts, and he immediately recognized them as part of Division. The drivers who had come along with Jacob and Kevin. They hadn't left with them, and now they stood pale-faced, clearly shaken by what they had just witnessed.
One man. One man had single-handedly dismantled Big Deal.
Toji sighed, letting the cigarette dangle from his lips. The drivers had been frozen in place, their minds still processing the sheer violence and ruthlessness they had seen. Toji didn't need to say anything—he knew what they were thinking. What had transpired today would spread quickly through Division. Every member would soon know what kind of man their leader truly was. Not just Division, though—this would reach all the crews, the big shots in Central Seoul, even Charles Choi and other influential figures who had their eyes on the city. The name Toji would soon be whispered in fear across every corner.
The "Devil Child." That was what they called him now. The merciless, cold-blooded leader of Division.
Toji's eyes fell on one of the still-conscious thugs, crawling away slowly, as if hoping to escape the nightmare he'd just been through. Toji took another puff, his gaze hardening as he stepped over to the man. Without breaking stride, he placed his boot on the thug's back, pushing down just enough to hear the satisfying crack of ribs snapping beneath his weight.
"Going somewhere?" Toji asked, his voice low, devoid of any emotion. He didn't wait for a response. With one final press of his foot, the man let out a strangled scream before falling silent. Toji had already moved on, his attention elsewhere.
The drivers, finally coming out of their stupor, scrambled to action. One of them hurried to unlock the trunk of the car, pulling out a fresh set of clothes. Seeing Toji's questioning glance, the driver stammered, "Uh, sir… w-we were ordered to always carry extra clothes. This… happens a lot."
Toji raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. As an assassin, his line of work often left him drenched in blood and with his clothes torn to pieces. He muttered under his breath, "What a drag..." before grabbing the clothes and turning toward a nearby hose to wash the blood off his body.
As he scrubbed away the gore, he thought about how easily he had been lost in the pleasure of the fight. It had been a while since he had felt the need to remind himself of the sensation of raw combat, but now that it was over, he realized it had all been too simple. His body had moved instinctively, like muscle memory, dismantling each opponent with terrifying efficiency.
He glanced over at Jerry Kwon, the last of Big Deal's leaders, who was still unconscious, half-buried beneath the crater in middle of road. With a smirk, Toji grabbed a marker from one of the drivers and walked over to where Jerry lay. He scrawled a quick note across the thug's forehead: "Leave T Group Alone."
That was a warning—a message to anyone who thought they could mess with his father's company. Business was business, after all, and Toji knew how to send a message loud and clear.
After changing into the fresh clothes, Toji took one last drag from his cigarette before flicking it to the ground. He glanced at the Division drivers, who were still staring at him like they were witnessing a ghost.
"Let's go," Toji muttered, walking toward the car with an annoyed expression. His work here was done, and there were other matters to take care of.
As the car pulled away from the scene, the drivers exchanged nervous glances. They had known their leader was powerful, but seeing it firsthand—watching him tear through an entire crew like it was nothing—it left an indelible impression. They knew that what had happened tonight would ripple through the underworld. Toji wasn't just feared anymore; he was a living nightmare, a force that no one would dare challenge.
The "Devil Child" was more than just a nickname now. It was a legend.
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