Nearly two years later…
Eun sat on his rotting wooden throne, chin in his hand, and legs draped over the armrest. He had grown into his limbs and no longer looked like an awkward teenager despite still being one.
Cold and impassive, he watched two of his thugs duke it out in the ring over some petty conflict. Other members of the gang cheered and placed bets while the girl they were fighting over watched with bloodlust in her eyes.
One of the men took a solid hit to the jaw, stumbling back and spitting out a tooth. The man who threw the punch grinned cockily and blew a kiss to the blood thirsty woman.
The other man shook his head, breathing hard, his face turning red. He stalked towards his cocky opponent, reaching behind his back and pulling a knife out from under his shirt. The cocky man’s grin faded as his opponent charged him with the knife. The cocky man lowered himself into a ready stance but before the man with the knife could reach him, he was stopped by a blade poking out of his chest. He grabbed for it as it was pulled out, blood blooming across his shirt. He dropped the knife and fell to his knees, pressing both hands into the wound.
Behind him stood Eun, wiping his blade off on the man’s shoulder. When it was clean, he inspected it and sheathed it with a click that was unnaturally loud. Still staring at the back of the man he stabbed, Eun raised his voice and shouted, “I told you! We do not sully our blades with petty squabbles.” Those who had been watching the fight fell silent when the knife had been pulled but at the sound of Eun’s voice every loud drunk gambling on card games throughout the hideout grew quiet at once.
Eun took a step away and said to no one in particular, “take him outside. If he survives he can come beg for his spot back.” Two men came from the crowd, grabbed the stabbed man’s arms, and dragged him away while Eun walked back to his wooden throne. The moment he sat down the chatter began again as if nothing ever happened.
With no fight to watch, Eun observed the room as a whole. The woman the two men had been fighting over was nowhere to be seen and the other participant was sulking by the bar with a cup of rice wine in his hand. The men who had bet on the fight were arguing in hushed voices as to what the conclusion of the fight meant for their money.
Eun was considering intervening when his right hand’s rapid approach caught his eye. Eun’s right hand was the first one to declare him the leader of the Blades and stood by his every decision since. Hak was a tall, slender, but sharp looking man who always wore a broken monocle despite clearly having the money to replace it. It was hard to tell his age; he had no wrinkles but his hair was more white than black and thinning a little bit despite his strategic styling.
Eun sat up a bit straighter when Hak approached his throne and bowed his head to the much younger man. Eun nodded to Hak, eyebrows raised in a questioning expression.
Hak cleared his throat, “one of our men, who was arrested for selling Ucar, was released. He was beaten severely and passed on a message; ‘the Crown Prince wishes to challenge the Boss to a duel’.”
Eun scoffed, instantly slouching back down as he lost interest, “ I have no desire to fight that vain, pompous little kid. He is no warrior.”
“You are the same age.” Hak raised an eyebrow at his leader.
“Age is a number and he’s a child. And if he wants to play pretend at being a big boy and challenge me to a fight then he can come here and talk face to face.”
EJ Williams Books 