Chapter Text
“Shot fired, target eliminated. Sending a photo of confirmation.”
“Elimination confirmed. Great work, Park!”
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“Headshot. Target eliminated, sending the photo right now.”
“Elimination confirmed. Well done, Park!”
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“Shot fired. oop I missed. Target remains unaware. Shooting again… target eliminated. I'm taking the photo rightttt now.”
“Elimination confirmed. Nice job, Park!”
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Haesbich Agency - 2:15pm
The elevator steadily climbs toward the top floor of Haesbich Agency, South Korea's most prestigious security firm for 15 years. Publicly, the company is honored for employing the nation's highest rated bodyguards and security specialists, providing protection to high-profile clients across the Seoul area.
At the helm is CEO of three years Robert K. Choi. Although everyone in the building simply calls him Bobby at his request. Under his reign, Haesbich has been unmatched against competing firms, and have cemented themselves to the public eye as the most trustworthy firm in the nation.
Privately, Haesbich is merely a front for what they truly do behind closed doors. While every employee has a legal security license and is highly skilled, strong, and capable of providing the protection the company advertises, those set of skills are just as valuable for taking lives as they are for protecting them.
Inside the building, two types of contracts can be given to its employees. One for protection, the other for assassination. The contract the public is allowed to see simply being a mask to a far more lucrative agency hidden deep in the fineprint.
The top floor of the building is reserved entirely for Bobby's office. Fit with a board room, lounge, kitchen, private gym, even a bathroom with a shower. The guy could live there for God’s sake. It’s everything you'd expect from the CEO of South Korea's best security firm. Everything except for the one room not listed on any blueprint.
One entry of a four digit keycode underneath his desk reveals a secret door that unlocks and opens up in the private gym. Where stashed inside is egregious amounts of weaponry, a desk that contains multiple monitors, computers, headsets etc. The monitors currently have live security camera feeds tapped in from all across the country available on display but can switch to simple Windows and Google Chrome all with the simple click of a mouse. This is the epicenter of the hidden side of Haesbich, where Bobby sits in the chair, making sure his employees complete their assigned job efficiently, and I don’t mean security jobs.
The best part? All his employees fucking love him. A complete difference from the stereotypical boss, Bobby is anything but a no emotion hardass that treats his employees like shit. He cares truly about every single one of them, and trusts them all with love and respect. Despite the underlying truth of what Haesbich is, Bobby isn’t villainous or perceived as shady in any way shape or form. Which makes him the perfect boss in this industry. The same guy who oversees an assassination he personally ordered is also the one making sure there's a cake and a gift waiting for whoever's birthday it is in the building. A date he'll never forget, considering every employee's birthday is written down in the little notepad that never leaves his desk, with all their coffee orders on the very next page. Bobby will always love his workers.
His face lights up when he sees the elevator door open up and stepping into his office is the best of the best assassins he has.
“Another amazing job as always, Park! This is why you’ll always be the best!” He calls out with proud enthusiasm.
“Thank you, Bobby.” a trio responds in unison.
Standing in front as the leader of the trio is Rumi Park, 26 years old. Contract assassin for 5 years. Raised as an orphan, Rumi grew up in a foster home where her foster mother Celine Kim raised her to be diligent, professional, and individually responsible and strong. She has maintained that form swimmingly as an assassin.
Just behind Rumi’s left shoulder is Mira Park, 25 years old. Contract assassin for 5 years. Unlike Rumi, Mira grew up in a wealthy household before being effectively disowned by her parents at sixteen after years of clashing with them. A troubled teenager who spent more time dealing with the law than attending school, Haesbich offered her a second chance when nobody else would. Her deadpan attitude, razor-sharp wit, and ability to stay unnervingly calm under pressure have made her one of the agency's most dependable assassins.
To Rumi's right is Zoey Park, 24 years old. Contract assassin for 5 years. Raised between two worlds after her parents divorced, with her father living in Burbank, California and her mother remaining in South Korea, Zoey's love for computers quickly evolved into an extraordinary talent for hacking. Recruited by Haesbich before she ever stepped foot into university, the computer science degree everyone believes she's pursuing is merely a cover for her true career. Unlike Rumi and Mira, Zoey still maintains a loving relationship with her mother, who remains blissfully unaware of what her daughter actually does for work. Despite being capable of breaking into just about any computer system on the planet, she'll still happily spend twenty minutes rambling about turtles, her favorite pizza toppings, or whatever other thought wandered into her head that morning. Her balanced quirkyness mixed with her true passion is what makes her a great assassin.
Individually, all three are known in that building as the finest assassins Haesbich has ever recruited. Give any one of them a contract and it'd likely be finished before lunch. Together? They're damn near unstoppable. Over five years, the trio has developed a level of trust and coordination few could ever hope to match, earning them a reputation as the agency's greatest assets.
That trust didn't stop when the contracts ended. All three came from broken homes in one way or another, finding in each other the family they never truly had. Five years later, that bond remains unbreakable. They married two years ago, with their boss Bobby, who had long since become the closest thing any of them had to a father proudly officiating the ceremony himself with tears in his eyes. They all decided quickly to take the last name of the youngest and most joyful one of the three, given her split with her family was the only one that wasn’t out of malice or tragedy. Rumi and Mira entered the next chapter of their lives leaving the Ryu and Kang surname behind for much greener pastures together.
“Sooo which Park are you talking about?” Zoey asks, tilting her head up like a dog when you get its attention.
Bobby responds to the youngest while a small chuckle and a “all of you! Seriously, you three make my job so much easier.” as he stands up from his chair and approaches the three, offering them all a hug.
“And you make our job so much more fun, we appreciate you so much Bobby!” Rumi with that glow of passion in her eyes and a big smile tells her boss.
“So what else for today?” Mira asks, breaking her silence throughout this brief conversation.
“Well… all I have for you three is to go home, relax, and treat yourselves. You are all set until something else comes up.”
Zoey gasps then begins to jump up and down at this early dismissal clapping her hands. “GUYS WE CAN FINALLY GO TO THAT MINI GOLF PLACE I’VE BEEN WANTING TO SHOW YOU! OH CAN WE GO CAN WE GO PLEASEEEEEE???”
Mira and Rumi stare down their still a child at heart wife with a smirk.
“Sure, Zoey.” Rumi calmly answers, already bracing herself to be tackled and assaulted by a million kisses all across her face, to which Zoey immediately gives her, all while Mira and Bobby just stare down at them and begin to laugh.
“Ok ok that’s enough spazapotomus!” Mira says rescuing Rumi from her affectionate assailant by pulling Zoey off of her. “Why don’t you head on down and pull the car out front, then we can go right to the putt putt place.”
That same damn sparkle in Zoey’s eyes lit up again, causing Mira to begin to brace herself for her violent share of a million kisses. But fortunately, she was spared because Zoey proudly saluted like a seasoned soldier, belting out a loud “AYE AYE CAPTAIN!” Then darted into the elevator, mashing the button to the ground floor like it owed her money, all with the cutest giggles as the door shut.
Mira helps Rumi to her feet, the leader’s braided lavender hair is now partially undone and all over the place, her shirt stretched out unevenly by the sheer pull from Zoey, and her face is tomato red which perfectly blends in with faint lipstick marks scattered all around her face.
And she wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Seriously, how in the fuck did she ever become an assassin?” Mira asks herself loud enough to maybe warrant a response from either her wife or boss.
Bobby responds by raising his shoulders and shaking his head with a smile that just says “I have no fucking idea but I don’t care.” Yeah, Zoey is easily the least qualified of the three, but that's simply because Rumi and Mira are so unbelievably good at what they do that the bar is insanely high. But just like them, she has never come close to failing a contract, and has a skill in computer hacking the other two don’t. Bonus!
“You alright Ru?” Mira asks her wife while fixing up her hair.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She responds with a laugh.
“I don’t know, maybe it’s because you got love bombed by a million and one dalmatians.” That earns another laugh from Bobby, who is now back to his desk probably doomscrolling menus of restaurants in the area to decide his dinner for tonight.
“Anddddd good! Are you ready to go?” Mira finishes up Rumi’s hair, now back in the slick long braid.
“Never been more ready!” she answers as they both thank Bobby and make their way to the elevator.
Bobby waited until the elevator doors shut before quietly shaking his head to himself.
"Idiots..."
The smile on his face betrayed the insult.
"I love my girls..."
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Teheran Road - 2:24pm
As Rumi and Mira stepped out of Haesbich, the summer afternoon greeted them with a warm breeze. Across the street, a small coffee cafe sat comfortably on the corner, packed with office workers enjoying late lunches and overpriced coffee before heading back to work. The patio buzzed with quiet conversations and the occasional burst of laughter. A businessman frantically typed away at a presentation while scarfing down a sandwich. Two university students argued over whose turn it was to buy coffee. A young couple sat together in comfortable silence, each pretending not to glance at the other's phone every five seconds. A male barista on roller skates stepped outside carrying a tray of drinks, weaving through the maze of tables with the precision of someone who'd done it a thousand times before. Seated near the back of the patio were three women around Bobby's age, each with a laptop open in front of them. One typed away without ever looking at her keyboard. Another lazily stirred an iced coffee with her straw while reviewing what appeared to be financial spreadsheets. The third simply watched the traffic pass by, occasionally glancing down at her screen before taking another sip.
Heads throughout the cafe turned toward the front doors of Haesbich at the unmistakable and eardrum piercing sound of loud screeching of car tires skidding to a stop in front of Rumi and Mira. The window lowers to an overly loud radio blasting some overplayed pop song along with Zoey with the same big smile nodding her head to the beat.
"COME ON YOU TWO! MINI GOLF ISN'T GONNA PLAY ITSELF!"
Rumi and Mira look at each other, rolling their eyes grinning in telekinetic agreement that Zoey is insanely adorable before hopping in the car. As they speed away narrowly avoiding hitting a parked truck one of the women in the back of the patio watching that whole scene shakes her head giggling to herself.
"Youth…" she quietly muttered to the other two before indulging in her drink once more.
A faint smile crossed their faces, like they were all reminiscing about the good ol’ days before returning to their laptops.
"Let's finish this report and head back.”
A few minutes later, the three women closed their laptops, neatly gathered the scattered papers across the table, and quietly disappeared into the afternoon crowd without so much as a second glance from anyone around them.
The patio returned to its usual rhythm.
The barista rolled over on his skates, clearing away the empty cups and wiping down the table.
Just as he reached for the last coffee cup, he noticed a plain white envelope with Thank You! written on the front resting normally where a cash tip would be.
He simply slipped the envelope beneath his apron, finished wiping the table, and skated back inside to prepare the next order…
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