Part 6

In the dim light of the garage, Yok's hands moved deftly, his fingers stained with oil and grease as he lovingly worked on his bike. The hum of machinery filled the space, the scent of metal, fuel, and rubber mingling with the faint trace of exhaust. Kumpha's garage had become a sanctuary for Yok, where the problems of the world seemed to disappear behind the steady rhythm of engine work. His bike stood on the stand in front of him, half-disassembled but gleaming like his prized possession, every part a piece of a puzzle he loved putting together.

This was more than just a job. It was a passion-an escape. Yok ran a cloth over the bike's polished body, his mind focused on nothing but getting it perfect. The creak of the garage door opening behind him barely caught his attention. The figure entered silently, the tap of shoes on the concrete floor finally pulling Yok's attention away from his work.

Yok glanced over his shoulder, seeing a slight figure-brown hair, glasses, neat clothes. He was holding a lunchbox in both hands, looking around as if searching for something or someone.

"Hey," Yok called out, wiping his hands on a rag. "You looking for Sean?"

The figure nodded politely. "Yes. Is he around?"

Yok gestured to the back of the garage. "He's back there working on a car. Probably buried under a heap of parts, knowing him."

The figure smiled and, with a little bounce in his step, hurried off toward where Yok had pointed. Yok knew him well enough by now-White, Sean's boyfriend. Always tidy, always polite. He had a calming presence, and Yok liked that about him. He watched White disappear into the back before turning his attention back to his bike.

Just as Yok was about to continue, the garage door creaked again. Another figure entered, but this one moved with less grace, and the air seemed to grow heavier. Yok didn't need to look up to know who it was.

"Beat up again, huh?" Yok asked, his tone half-amused, half-concerned as he crouched next to the bike, tightening a bolt.

The figure that stepped into the light was White's twin, but an exact opposite in almost every way. His name was Black, and where White was calm and tidy, Black was rough and unpredictable. His short hair was messy, his skin covered in bruises and scrapes, the corner of his lip split with dried blood. He wore a sleeveless shirt, revealing bandaged hands from another round of whatever trouble he'd found himself in.

"None of your business," Black muttered, scowling as he dropped onto a nearby crate, rubbing his jaw. "But I'll make those guys pay. They won't know what hit 'em next time."

Yok chuckled, leaning back and resting his hands on his thighs, eyes glinting with sarcasm. "Yeah? And how many times have you said that now? Let me guess-three or four beatdowns later?"

Black's scowl deepened, but there was a glimmer of stubborn pride in his eyes. "This time's different."

"Sure, sure," Yok responded, unable to hide his smirk. He leaned against his bike and crossed his arms. "Where's Gram? Haven't seen him around."

Black waved it off. "Dunno. Didn't show up today."

Yok raised an eyebrow but didn't press it. Instead, Black leaned forward, eyes gleaming with a wild idea. "Listen, I found something big this time. A plan to take down one of those corrupt rich bastards."

Yok's brow furrowed slightly, sensing where this was going. "Yeah? And what's this plan? You know you've gotta be careful, right? Last time you got yourself into deep shit."

Black scoffed, leaning in as if about to tell Yok a great secret. "I found the mansion of this politician. The guy's filthy rich, but all his money's from blood and dirt."

Yok's interest piqued, but there was a wary edge to his voice. "A politician?"

"Yeah," Black spat, venom in his tone. "The guy's got a mansion that no one's even moved into yet. Bought it with dirty money he got from kicking poor families out of their homes. He's been stealing land from people who don't have the power to fight back. Took everything from them and built this damn palace on their misery."

Yok's expression darkened, his smile fading. "Sounds like a real piece of shit."

"He is," Black growled. "And no one's done anything to stop him. But now... I've got a plan. That mansion? It's empty. No one's moved in yet. We can get in, make some noise."

Yok leaned back, wiping his hands with the rag again, but his eyes were sharp, thoughtful. "And what exactly are you thinking of doing?"

Black grinned, though it was more of a dangerous smirk. "Make a statement. Show the world that people like him don't get to walk all over the rest of us."

Yok let the silence stretch for a moment, his mind weighing the risks, the consequences. He glanced at Black, noting the bruises and cuts, the fire in his eyes.

"You're gonna get yourself killed if you keep this up, you know that?" Yok finally said, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "But if you're going through with it... send me in. I wanna see this mansion for myself."

Black's grin widened. "Knew I could count on you."

Yok chuckled, the weight of the situation settling in the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside for now. "Alright, let me finish up here. I'll check it out with you later."

They exchanged a look-a mixture of brotherhood and mischief. Yok got back to his bike, cleaning the last of the grease from the parts, but his mind was already racing ahead, picturing the next move in their growing battle against the corrupt and the powerful.

Yok wasn't one to back down from a fight, especially not one that felt this personal. And with Black at his side, things were bound to get messy.

~

Yok entered the bookstore with a purposeful stride, the familiar chime of the door ringing in his ears as he stepped inside. The scent of paper and ink hit him, calming in a way he wouldn't admit to anyone. He had been coming here more frequently, using any excuse he could find just to see Longtai. Whether it was a book, a new sketchpad, or a few colors, Yok always found a reason to stop by.

As he crossed the threshold, his eyes landed on Longtai behind the counter, his delicate fingers working through a pile of books that needed shelving. The bookstore was quiet, like always, a peaceful haven in the middle of the city's chaos.

"Hey," Longtai greeted with a soft smile, his voice gentle as he looked up at Yok. There was a hint of familiarity in his tone, like he had started to expect these visits.

Yok leaned against the counter, his usual cocky grin playing at his lips. "Yo. I'm back."

Longtai's eyes sparkled with a bit of humor as he asked, "What do you need today?"

Yok, never one to seem too eager, glanced around, pretending to think. "Uh, let's see... I need a ton of spray paints."

Longtai raised a brow, setting down the book he was holding. "A ton, huh? Sounds like a big project this time."

Yok's grin widened, excitement bubbling under his cool exterior. "Oh, it's a big one. I'm going all out for this. Gonna blow everyone's mind."

There was something about the way Yok said it, with such confidence and flair, that made Longtai smile without realizing it. He watched as Yok practically jogged over to the paint section, his eyes scanning the shelves like a kid in a candy store.

Longtai followed slowly, leaning slightly on the counter as he watched Yok grab spray can after spray can, muttering to himself about which colors he needed. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Longtai couldn't help but be curious.

"You really seem fired up about this one," Longtai remarked as Yok came back with his arms full of spray paints.

Yok carefully set the cans down on the counter, his grin never fading. "Yeah, this project's important. I want it to dazzle everyone, you know? Like, when they see it, they won't know what hit 'em."

Longtai's soft eyes flickered with curiosity. "I'm sure you'll pull it off. You've got that kind of energy."

Yok looked at Longtai, that grin still plastered on his face, but there was a slight flicker of something more in his eyes. For a second, he considered telling him what the project really was-this crazy, wild plan with Black to make a statement at that politician's mansion. But he held back. Yok wasn't ready to involve Longtai in that part of his life. Not yet, at least.

He smirked and waved a hand dismissively. "It's top secret for now. You'll have to wait and see."

Longtai gave a light laugh, his voice soft but genuine. "Alright, I'll be waiting."

Yok's heart skipped a beat at that. The way Longtai said it-so sincerely, as if he was actually looking forward to seeing what Yok would do. It was a small thing, but for some reason, it made Yok's pulse race just a little faster.

As Longtai began to ring up the paints, Yok leaned casually against the counter again, his eyes wandering to the shelves behind Longtai, then back to him. He caught a glimpse of Longtai's focused expression as he scanned the items-his delicate features framed by his hair, the slight curve of his lips as he worked.

There was something soothing about it. In this quiet little bookstore, away from the noise of the city and the chaos of Yok's life, watching Longtai was like hitting pause on everything. Yok couldn't explain it, but he found himself wanting to come here more and more, even if it was just for a few minutes of small talk.

"So, what about you?" Yok asked, his voice a bit more relaxed than usual. "Anything interesting going on with you?"

Longtai glanced up, surprised by the question. "Me? Not really. I'm just busy with schoolwork and helping out here at the shop."

Yok nodded, though his mind was already drifting. "Well, don't work too hard. You've got that 'delicate artist' thing going for you, but you gotta chill sometimes."

Longtai chuckled softly. "I'll keep that in mind."

Yok grabbed the bag of spray paints, giving Longtai another wide grin. "Thanks for this. I'll be back soon."

"I'm sure you will," Longtai teased lightly, his voice warm as he watched Yok head toward the door.

Yok paused for a second before stepping out, turning back to give Longtai a quick glance, something playful in his eyes. "Next time, maybe I'll show you the project once it's done. If you're lucky."

Longtai smiled, nodding slightly. "I'd like that."

With that, Yok flashed him one last grin and walked out of the bookstore, the door chiming softly behind him. His heart still buzzed with excitement, but not just for the project. Something else was growing in him-a feeling he couldn't quite place yet, but one he was starting to enjoy more with every visit.

And as he stepped out into the street, he realized that coming to the bookstore wasn't just about the paints, the sketchbooks, or the excuses. It was becoming about Longtai.

~

The night was pitch black, the moon barely visible through the thick clouds that covered the sky. A cold wind swept through the streets, rustling leaves and sending a slight chill down the spine of anyone who dared to venture outside at this late hour. The city was eerily quiet, with only the occasional hum of a passing car breaking the silence.

Yok, Black, and Gram moved swiftly under the cover of darkness, their faces hidden behind black bandanas, only their eyes exposed. They wore dark clothes that blended them into the shadows as they made their way to the back of a massive, luxurious mansion. The house stood ominously in the distance, its towering structure almost disappearing into the night sky.

Black, leading the group, raised a hand to signal a stop. He crouched down behind a large bush, his eyes scanning the perimeter of the mansion. There were no guards, no movement. Everything was still, but that didn't mean it was safe.

"Stay low," he whispered, his voice muffled through the fabric covering his face.

Yok and Gram nodded, both crouching beside him. Yok's heart raced with the adrenaline of the moment. They had done things like this before, but each time the thrill of it sent a surge of excitement through him.

They crept along the side of the mansion, their footsteps silent, avoiding any patches of gravel or dry leaves that might give them away. Black motioned to Gram, who moved toward a small window on the lower floor, checking for any sign of an alarm system. After a few seconds of tense silence, Gram shook his head. No alarm.

Black knelt by the window and pulled out a brick from a small bag he carried. Yok and Gram held their breath as Black took aim. With one swift motion, he threw the brick at the window. The glass shattered with a sharp crack, the sound unnervingly loud in the quiet night. All three froze for a moment, listening for any reaction.

Nothing.

Black reached through the broken window and carefully unlatched it, pushing it open. One by one, they slipped inside.

The interior of the mansion was grand, even in the dark. The faint moonlight coming through the windows illuminated the expensive furniture, the marble floors, and the intricate artwork that adorned the walls. Everything looked untouched, as if the mansion was waiting for its owners to return and live in the lap of luxury.

"This place is huge," Yok muttered under his breath as he adjusted the strap of his spray paint bag. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the excessive opulence that screamed of wealth built on the backs of exploited people.

Black gestured to Gram. "You take the ground floor. Break everything you can find. I'm going upstairs to search for documents."

Yok nodded, already focused on his mission. He made his way down a long hallway until he came across a massive white wall. It was blank, a perfect canvas. He dropped his bag on the floor with a soft thud and pulled out his first can of spray paint, shaking it as the familiar sound of the ball inside rattled.

Meanwhile, Gram took out a crowbar and began swinging at the luxurious furniture, smashing glass tables, ripping cushions, and tearing paintings off the walls. He wasn't interested in stealing anything-none of them were. This wasn't about money. This was about sending a message.

Upstairs, Black was rummaging through file cabinets and drawers, searching for anything that would reveal the corrupt dealings of the mansion's owner, a politician who had made his fortune by taking homes from poor families under the guise of government projects. But Black's frustration grew as he found nothing of real value. He angrily threw papers in the air, cursing under his breath.

Downstairs, Yok was in his element. He began with broad strokes, spraying thick black lines across the pristine white wall. His hands moved quickly, expertly switching between cans of different colors, shaking them and pressing the nozzles with precision. Lines turned into shapes, and shapes turned into powerful images. Reds, blacks, and yellows clashed together in an explosion of color, but there was purpose in the chaos.

His art was raw and emotional. At the center of the wall, he painted a large figure-faceless, but towering and imposing, looming over a crowd of smaller figures. The smaller figures were detailed, representing ordinary people-men, women, and children. Above the large figure, Yok spray-painted in bold letters: **"EXPOSE THE CORRUPTION."** Surrounding the faceless figure, Yok painted barbed wires that symbolized oppression and control.

The most striking part of the mural was a set of hands at the bottom, reaching up, breaking through chains as they tried to grasp the larger figure. The message was clear-this was a fight against the powerful, against those who oppressed the weak, and it was time for the people to rise.

As Yok finished, stepping back to admire his work, Gram came over, breathing heavily from the destruction he had caused. His eyes widened as he took in the mural, impressed.

"Damn, that's good, Yok," Gram said, slinging an arm over Yok's shoulder and pulling out his phone to take a picture. He snapped a few shots, grinning proudly. "This is gonna make waves."

Black stormed down the stairs, clearly frustrated. "No documents. Nothing useful." He kicked a chair across the room, sending it crashing into a wall.

"Doesn't matter," Yok said, stepping aside to let Black see the mural. "This is what we came here for."

Black paused, his eyes scanning the painting. The anger in his face faded, replaced by something like satisfaction. He gave Yok a sharp nod. "This'll do. People will get the message."

They never took anything from these houses. They never stole, never profited from the wealth of those they despised. Their goal was to make a statement-to show the rich and corrupt that they wouldn't get away with exploiting people forever.

Standing in front of the mural, all three of them felt a sense of accomplishment. Yok wiped the sweat from his brow, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Let's get out of here," Gram said, snapping one last photo, before that a bodyguard comes.

The bodyguard's heavy footsteps echoed down the hall as the boys froze, their hearts pounding in unison.

"Go!" Black hissed, shoving Gram toward the back door.

The three bolted, their footsteps a frenzied rhythm against the marble floor. Yok glanced back just in time to see the hulking figure of the bodyguard barreling into the room.

"Hey! Stop!" the guard shouted, his voice booming with authority.

Adrenaline surged through them as they dashed into the sprawling backyard. The towering hedges of the manicured garden loomed like a maze in the moonlight. Gram was the first to vault over a low garden wall, Yok hot on his heels. Black lagged slightly, turning just long enough to kick over a decorative planter, scattering dirt and ceramic shards in the bodyguard's path.

"Move faster!" Black barked, his tone sharp but laced with exhilaration.

Yok's laughter bubbled out despite the danger. His legs burned from the effort, and his lungs screamed for air, but the thrill of the escape was intoxicating. Gram stumbled as they neared the estate's perimeter, his sneaker slipping in the damp grass, but Yok yanked him upright with a grin.

"Keep running!" Yok urged, his voice breathless but filled with an irrepressible joy.

They reached the outer fence-a tall wrought-iron barrier gleaming in the moonlight. Without hesitation, Gram climbed first, his hands slipping slightly on the cold metal. Yok followed, nimble as ever, and Black brought up the rear, cursing under his breath.

Behind them, the bodyguard had reached the garden. His flashlight beam danced wildly across the ground, illuminating the trampled grass and overturned planter. He slowed, scanning the area with narrowed eyes, but the boys had already dropped down on the other side of the fence.

Once they hit the street, they kept running, their sneakers slapping against the pavement. Yok let out a whoop, the sound ringing through the quiet night. Black glanced back to make sure they weren't followed before finally slowing to a jog. Gram collapsed onto a bench, his chest heaving as he threw his head back and laughed.

"That...was insane!" Gram managed between gulps of air.

"You're insane," Black shot back, though the corner of his mouth twitched with a smile.

Yok was leaning on a lamp post, still catching his breath, his face flushed but alight with exhilaration. "Did you see his face? He didn't know what hit him!"

Their laughter echoed in the empty street, a mix of relief, triumph, and sheer adrenaline. Yok dropped onto the bench beside Gram, the two of them grinning like madmen. Black remained standing, his sharp eyes scanning the street one last time.

When he finally deemed it safe, he turned to the others. "Alright, enough celebrating. Let's move before someone calls the cops."

But even as they trudged away, the rush of the moment lingered, the bond between them feeling unshakable. They had pulled it off. They had left their mark. And for now, that was enough.

~

Thanks for reading today's chapter!

Yok, Black, and Gram bringing the best chaotic energy into the group

Is Longtai ready to be pulled into their chaos?

Don't forget to vote and comment.

Love Yoon ~