Chapter Text
Taehyung was 10 when he bitterly accepted that caring for an innocent, defenceless, omega orphan was not something anyone was willing to do purely out of the goodness of their heart. Not that goodness or hearts were very common around him, it seemed.
No one wanted him at the orphanage. People would come and praise energetic and audacious alphas, or coo over collected and smart betas — that was common occurrence.
But all Taehyung — the fragile and shy omega — would receive from the staff, parents and kids alike were sneers at best, insults at worst.
It didn’t matter that the alpha kid was stealing Taehyung’s lunch every day. Or that the beta kid was breaking all of Taehyung’s colourful pencils whenever he tried to draw. Or that none of the staff workers said a single thing while watching Taehyung close himself off more and more.
When Taehyung stopped having high expectations from people and accepted that no one would come to save him, he ran away. Nothing could be worse than his living hell at the orphanage, right?
Taehyung discovered another kind of hell when two gruff-looking betas found him wandering around in a dark alley at nightfall. He was brought to an underground warehouse, where he ended up being auctioned off to the highest bidder. The next day, he was shipped to work in a clothes factory, where he found several other young omegas enslaved to their work post, gaze empty and hands blistered all over. When Taehyung dared to refuse working, the alpha supervising the omegas had towered over him menacingly, toying with his pocket knife. Gulping, Taehyung quickly submitted and got to work.
Days turned into weeks, the countless sunsets and sunrises blurring together. Taehyung didn’t complain much though — he had a roof, reasonably edible food, and apart from the occasional disgusted looks or barks whenever he fell behind, he was mostly left alone.
One night was all it took to change everything.
Taehyung woke up with a start, dread paralyzing him, when he heard several gunshots fired off not too far from the room where all the omegas were being held, sleeping on the cold tiled floor together. He froze, waiting for a clue that would tell him what was happening. Did the police find them? Would they help him?
Before he could even stand up properly, the door opened with a bang, revealing a group of masked alphas. They entered without even bothering to point their guns at the frightened omegas.
“Well, would you look at this. Looks like we’ve hit the jackpot tonight, boys,” drawled the alpha in the middle. He was dressed in a black suit and had his broken teeth on full display in a smirk. “Get them in the truck.”
While dozens of omegas were shrieking left and right, trying to escape and go past the alphas blocking the main entrance, Taehyung stealthily retreated towards the back of the room, climbing over the containers that were stored there and hiding behind a huge box full of fabric, successfully hiding his tiny frame.
When silenced returned, all the omegas either gagged and hand-cuffed or knocked out cold on the floor, Taehyung waited anxiously for everyone to leave. Why weren’t they leaving?
“Come out come out, little mouse,” a cruel voice sussurred. “You don’t want to play games with me.”
Taehyung gasped out loud, bringing his trembling hands to his mouth in an attempt to muffle the whimper that was threatening to come out.
After several seconds of ominous silence, the alpha spoke again in a bored yet taunting voice. “Don’t make me go over there.”
Taehyung studied his options. He could listen to the voice and see what the scary men wanted, but he doubted they would spare him when some omegas were already lying on the floor unconscious. He could also stay hidden and wait for one of the alphas to come get him, but he was woefully outnumbered. Not that a 10-year-old omega could do much against even one fully-grown alpha — armed with a gun or two at that. But maybe he could take the alpha by surprise and attack him, maybe —
“Game’s over, little mouse.” The alpha dressed in a suit was standing behind him, knife held right against the delicate skin of his neck. When did he get here and how did Taehyung not hear him? “That was not a very smart move from your part,” hummed the alpha. Rough fingers grabbed Taehyung’s chin, turning his face toward him.
Taehyung bit on the stranger’s pinky finger as hard as he could, eyes blazing with rage more than fear. He knew he would die now, but this was just for spite. At least he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
The alpha raised a brow, barely affected. “Well at least you’ve got some fighting spirit in you,” the alpha smirked, now mildly entertained. “Let’s see how long you last for what I have in store for you then.”
***
Taehyung was 13 when he was able to name all kinds of drugs and poisons. He could differentiate powders and liquids by scent or by touch, list all the effects of ingesting each substance, and recall the corresponding selling prices.
It was hard for himself to admit, but Minho had trained him well.
His training had begun as soon as he had bitten Minho’s finger three years ago. Two alphas had held Taehyung down while Minho had taken his sweet time breaking every single bone in Taehyung’s pinky finger. There weren’t many — no more than three bones — but it had been insanely painful.
“I give you an order, you listen, and you obey. Understood?”
Taehyung had later found out that getting his finger broken wouldn’t even come close to all the pain he would have to endure for the next year. From getting beaten up to a pulp until he was able to decently defend himself, to getting chained up and left alone to starve until he was able to pick the locks himself on all his chains, the young omega endured it all as the seasons seemed to drag for longer than they were supposed to last.
At the end of the year, Taehyung was a defenceless omega no more. But he still looked like one — which was actually the reason why Minho had decided to shape Taehyung into his secret weapon, instead of selling him to omega traffickers just like he had done for the other omegas he had captured that night along with his prized apprentice.
After his year-long training, Minho had taken Taehyung out to assist him during his deals and raids. Taehyung mostly watched and learned (he was a quick learner), and soon enough, he became an flawless little errand boy. He had never run into trouble with the authorities, unsuspecting and deceived by Taehyung’s young age and omega status.
For the two years following his training year, Taehyung was lulled into a routine, getting used to dealing drugs, picking locks, breaking into houses, stealing money and information, and distracting targets during raids. Taehyung was good at his job — and Minho’s expectations from Taehyung only grew.
Which was why Minho decided it was finally time to bring Taehyung with him to one of his dirtier missions.
When they were both standing in front of a nearly unconscious beta tied to a chair and drenched in a mix of sweat and blood and something that smelt like ashes, Minho handed Taehyung a gun.
Taehyung had never used a gun before. Or any kind of real weapon. His hand-to-hand combat skills had always been enough.
“Kill him.”
Taehyung refused to let his emotions show. He asked with a levelled voice, gaze never leaving the stranger hunched in front of him. “Why?”
“Because I say so. You know what you have to do when I give you an order, little mouse.”
Taehyung knew. Listen and obey.
“Unless you’d rather die as well. More cleaning work for my boys, but I’m not keeping any useless liabilities with me.” Minho had his own gun in his other hand, the barrel scratching his temple, looking bored. But Taehyung knew Minho was waiting for his answer, and one wrong word would cost him his life. Minho did not like having disobedient boys under him. And what he didn’t like, he dealt with it . Using a gun. Like the one he had in his hand.
Taehyung turned his eyes back to the stranger in the chair and met his pleading eyes.
“Please, I swear I’ll have the money by next week, my daughter really wanted a dog so I had to buy stuff for it, and I had to pay for my brother’s hospital bills because he got injured on a construction field, just give me one more week and I’ll—”
“Quiet,” growled Minho, not bothering to tear his eyes away from Taehyung. “I don’t like waiting, little mouse.”
Taehyung was hesitating. This man didn’t seem shady or dangerous. He probably just happened to make bad decisions and got involved with bad people. And now Taehyung had to deal with it to survive.
He raised the gun and aimed it at the beta’s head.
The beta had brown eyes. They were warm — but tainted with unmasked terror.
“What’s your name?”
“Jongsuk, please, I promise— ”
Taehyung took the safety off.
“Goodbye, Jongsuk.”
I’m sorry.
Taehyung pulled the trigger, a faint ring echoing in his head.
He didn’t think the ringing would ever stop.
***
Taehyung was 15 when he resolved himself to sit still and look pretty. Except he didn’t sit still, but rather killed ruthlessly and did Minho’s dirty job. The looking pretty part was simply to distract his targets more easily.
He resolved himself to listen and obey . He didn’t ask for names anymore. He shut himself down, his heart quickly hardening, now insensitive to pleading eyes and empty promises. No one had answered to his own either anyway.
He did not feel sad, or guilty, or angry, or tired. He didn’t think he could really feel anymore.
Taehyung became numb.
***
Taehyung was 18 when he made his first friend. Or something close to it according to his standards anyway.
He was leaning against the bar at one of the high-end clubs owned by Minho all across Daegu. His job was finished an hour ago, his target probably lying somewhere at the bottom of the Han river. He was just here to build an alibi, and he was terribly bored. But better safe than sorry — and Taehyung never made mistakes.
“Is this seat taken?”
Taehyung turned to the voice. A woman — a girl — was standing in front of him, all dolled up and dressed in what looked like an expensive dress. She was looking expectantly at him.
“I don’t know. Ask the chair,” deadpanned Taehyung. He looked at his watch and sighed internally. One more hour to go and he could finally get the fuck out of this stinking place.
The girl flipped her hair and plopped herself down on the stool. “Funny.”
Taehyung wasn’t trying to be funny. He genuinely didn’t know nor care, and wished he could be left alone .
“I’m Lia. Why aren’t you having fun? My alpha brought me here telling me we would have lots of fun with his friends but I lost him in the crowd.” She had a small pout on her face, making her look even younger than she probably was. Was she even old enough to be in such a place?
“I don’t come here to have fun. Aren’t you even scared?” Taehyung looked at his watch once more, wishing time could go by faster so that he didn’t have to deal with the bad feeling he had for this oblivious girl. She couldn’t have come here to have fun when this place was the usual meeting point for criminals and, more often than not, sex workers.
Lia’s gaze shifted slightly before hardening again in a pout. She whispered, her strained voice contrasting starkly with the naïve look she carefully crafted. “Omegas like us can’t afford to show fear, or weakness. I can see you learned that the hard way as well.”
Taehyung’s eyes widened ever so slightly. He was wearing scent blockers and he usually passed as an alpha, or at least a beta, in the way he held himself. “How did you know?”
She scoffed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t learn how to read between the lines. A bit of observing was enough to tell me how much we’re alike, you and I. Plus, you’re not half as cruel as the kindest asshole in this room.”
He didn’t believe that. In the span of five years, he had killed, stolen, lied, manipulated, blackmailed, tortured, all without blinking twice.
Taehyung spotted Changmin in the crowd behind Lia. He had planned to visit Changmin’s office tomorrow morning to inquire about Minho’s latest ecstasy order and kindly convince Changmin that he should not be late this time if he valued his life. Maybe Taehyung will be able to sleep in instead.
“I’ll be right back. Stay here.” He hadn’t intended to say anything to the girl but for some reason he knew she was actually scared and probably not safe here.
When he came back from his talk with Changmin half an hour later, Taehyung found Lia’s seat empty. He asked the barman, “Where did the girl go?”
“The omega?” The guy snickered. “I wouldn’t say she willingly went anywhere, seeing how she was passed out. Probably from some drug that was in the drink one of the alphas gave her. Not very smart.” He dangled a set of keys in front of Taehyung’s face. “They’re probably done playing with her anyway, I just got the keys back.”
“The keys for what,” the omega gritted out.
“Why, the room they, ah— played in, of course.”
Taehyung felt his chest tighten. He snatched the keys from the offended barman and quickly reached said room. The door was unlocked, slightly ajar.
He wished he had never opened that door.
Lia’s body was lying naked on the tiled floor, bloodied and dead .
You let this happen.
“Did you come to play with us too, pretty?”
He turned to the group of proud-looking alphas behind him, his vision going red.
In a matter of minutes filled with brutal punches and the alphas’ grunts, the group was laying next to Lia, lifeless.
You told her to stay there .
Pulling out the lighter he always had on him for whenever he needed to burn evidence, he set the club on fire.
They could all die for all he cared. No one did anything to help Lia. He didn’t either. Maybe he should die here too.
He shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall on the floor, the growing fire quickly engulfing it. The bodies would probably be unrecognizable by tomorrow, and hopefully only ashes will remain.
Without another glance, he left. He jumped on a random train and left the club, left Minho, left everything related to the god-forsaken city that was Daegu.
When the train reached its destination, Taehyung was in Seoul.
He roamed the streets aimlessly, shivering slightly from the unforgiving cold breeze of dawn. He just had to find somewhere to stay and avoid underground gangs.
He stumbled on his feet when he collided with a stranger.
Who could have guessed that Taehyung would get street-casted to join one of the biggest entertainment agencies of South Korea? Turns out, looking pretty was good enough to make you become famous and liked in Seoul. When the agency found out that he was decent at singing and beyond flexible enough to learn dancing (thanks to his martial arts training), it was decided that Taehyung would be their next “hit” idol.
Taehyung was too tired to refuse, or even bring himself to care.
***
Taehyung was 20 when he debuted and made half of South Korea immediately fall in love with him. Based on his looks and his behaviour on screen, no one would have been able to tell that idol Taehyung was the same person as Minho’s stone cold killer prodigy Taehyung.
Idol Taehyung was a sight for sore eyes, looking like the epitome of what society believed omegas were like — cute, giggly, sensitive, frail, and fragile. Weak. Brainless.
But somehow, it felt wrong to act all coy and innocent when he actually had blood on his hands beneath the delicate lace gloves and dainty jewellery.
After going through endless photoshoots, recordings and interviews, Taehyung realized the power he was starting to hold. A power that did not come from his physical abilities — which he was still maintaining, practicing in secret, just in case — but a power that came from fame, influence, and arrogant alphas and betas assuming things about him.
Taehyung never failed to get invited to the most exclusive parties only rich and famous people attended. He barely even needed to do anything to overhear the latest gossip. And when you lived and experienced enough misfortunes, you started to be aware that when “rich and famous” were involved, criminals were never very far.
And Taehyung couldn’t just do nothing .
He would not allow another Lia to suffer under his watch.
Which was why he created an anonymous Instagram account.
His account quickly gained a lot of attention from netizens. All the pictures Taehyung snapped of entitled scumbags taking advantage of innocents at one of these high society parties, all the audio recordings he saved of conversations he was not supposed to overhear — every single one of these were uploaded on Instagram, successfully exposing and bringing down politicians, businessmen, and celebrities lower than ground.
Cancel culture was a scary thing, he learned. Social media had its own kind of dangerous power.
Taehyung felt much satisfaction from seeing these self-entitled assholes getting what they deserved, and he held onto the hope that he might have helped prevent a powerless person from getting abused in the way he had been. The way Lia had been.
But all Taehyung felt was dread when out of nowhere, he received a DM from a newly created account. From Chim .
“What would people think if they knew that the Kim Taehyung was actually the one playing hero and backstabbing the people who are inviting him at their stupid parties?”
“Who are you”
“You act too carelessly for a celebrity. I didn’t even have to dig longer than two minutes to find out who you are. I bet I’m not the only one who knows”
“What do you want”
“Delete this if you don’t want to get destroyed by the same people who are currently backing you up. And go to Cypher Ent. if you really want to help and are not just an attention-seeker.”
Some quick research on the Internet taught Taehyung that Cypher Ent. was a security agency. He frowned. Was Chim suggesting Taehyung to become a bodyguard or something?
But after getting in touch with them, turns out that their security services were merely a cover, and that Cypher Ent. was actually an agency for hired assassins , who killed under Cypher’s orders. In exchange for the assassins’ services, Cypher would provide them high-quality training, equipment, and confidentiality. And the targets only ever involved the worst criminals.
Taehyung couldn’t deny his interest. Putting to use his ability to kill without much remorse, his connections to power-hungry two-faced people, and his deceitfully innocent omega looks, to kill scumbags who thought that money and fame put them above everything and everyone else?
Sign him the fuck up.
***
Taehyung was now 23 and he had become an internationally-recognized idol, as well as Cypher’s best hired assassin ever. He had become rich, popular, trained, and physically able to protect himself.
Somewhat safe.
Lonely.
Still numb.