Lookism: King's Ascension

The door creaked open.

Taeyang stepped out, rolling his shoulders, flexing the stiffness out of his fingers. His knuckles were swollen, red… some of the cuts from earlier had reopened, but he barely noticed. The metallic scent of blood clung to his skin, faint but unmistakable.

Behind him, the muffled groans of the broken man still lingered in the air. He hadn't killed him. Not yet. Minho still wanted his turn.

He shut the door without a second glance.

The stairs creaked under his weight as he descended, boots heavy against the old wood.

The warehouse was quieter now—most of the others had either left or were resting, tending to wounds, waiting for the next move. But not Minho. Not Dongwoo. And not Baek Daehyun.

They were still at the table, maps spread out, voices low but firm.

Taeyang stepped into the light.

Minho barely looked up. "Didn't break him too much, did you?"

Taeyang exhaled through his nose, cracking his neck. "Left some pieces for you."

Minho smirked faintly. "Good."

Dongwoo glanced at him, noting the bruises on his hands, the slow way he rolled his shoulders. "You done, then?"

Taeyang pulled out a chair and dropped into it. "For now."

The metal groaned slightly under his weight. His gaze flickered to the table… maps, notes, red markings scattered across the city's borders.

Baek Daehyun leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He was watching Taeyang, but not with concern. Just observation.

"Guess I don't need to ask if you enjoyed yourself," he muttered.

Taeyang didn't answer.

Daehyun smirked slightly but shifted his attention back to the map. "Alright. We were just going over the next step." He tapped a section near Anyang's southern border.

Ansan.

Taeyang's brow furrowed slightly. He leaned in, eyes scanning the map. "Ansan?"

Minho nodded. "We've had a few skirmishes coming from the south. They're probing."

"Ansan's circle are strong," Dongwoo muttered. "They're not dumb either. If they're testing us, they think they have a chance."

Daehyun scoffed. "Not when they're fighting off Hwaseong."

Minho smirked slightly. "And that's why I'm the one telling you what to do." His fingers traced a path down the map. 

"Suwon and Seoul are going to be too busy with each other to care about us. Gwacheon's eyes are north, as always. But Ansan? They're not distracted. Hwaseong is weak. They're looking at us."

Taeyang exhaled slowly, letting the information sink in.

Minho leaned back. "I want it handled. Quickly." His gaze flicked between them. "You two leave tomorrow."

Taeyang's fingers drummed lightly against the table.

Daehyun raised a brow. "Me and him?"

Minho nodded. "If we send a full force, they'll dig in. But if it's just the two of you?" He grinned slightly. "They won't realise who you are until you end it."

Dongwoo let out a low whistle. "Hound of Anyang and the Boy of Liberation. Sounds like overkill for a few low ranked guys."

"That's the point," Minho said simply.

Daehyun exhaled, running a hand through his hair. Then he grinned, sharp and easy. "Alright. Guess we'll show them what a real fight looks like."

Taeyang didn't smile. Didn't react.

More fighting. More destroying. This was his life now.

***

The night air was crisp. Cold, but not biting. The streets of Anyang were quiet at this hour… most of the city had settled into a lull.

Taeyang stepped out of the warehouse first, rolling his shoulders, breathing in the night. 

The scent of asphalt, the faint lingering trace of blood on his skin. The warehouse doors groaned shut behind him.

Then… footsteps.

Baek Daehyun fell into step beside him, hands stuffed in his pockets, his leather jacket shifting slightly as he walked. He didn't say anything at first. Just matched Taeyang's pace, his boots scuffing against the pavement.

A quiet walk.

Or at least, that's what Taeyang thought.

"So," Daehyun finally said, voice casual. "You ever thought about your nickname?"

Taeyang didn't look at him. "No."

Daehyun hummed. "Figures. Minho's the type to make sure a name sticks."

Taeyang glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "And yours?"

Daehyun exhaled, tilting his head back slightly to stare up at the empty sky. 

"The 'Boy of Liberation.'" He scoffed. "Sounds like something out of a history book."

Taeyang didn't answer immediately. He knew the name. Knew the story behind it.

The one who tore apart the last remnants of a pre-gen gang, stopping them from taking root in Anyang. People called it liberation. A victory.

Jeongdu said that Daehyun just called it necessary.

"Minho came up with it?" Taeyang asked.

Daehyun snorted. "Of course. He's got a talent for that kind of shit." He shook his head. "Problem is, it makes me sound like some righteous hero. Like I saved people." His jaw tensed slightly. "I didn't."

Taeyang stayed quiet.

"I didn't do it for the people," Daehyun muttered. "I did it because they were in my way. Because I wanted them gone. And now people say my name like I'm some legend." He let out a dry chuckle. "I hate it."

Taeyang let that sit between them for a moment. Then…

"I don't like mine either."

He still heard it sometimes… shouted in the middle of a fight, murmured in the backstreets, whispered from the people who understood.

The Hound of Anyang.

Not a person. Not a leader. Not even an enemy.

Just something you unleash.

Daehyun was still watching him. Not judging. Just waiting.

"…But it fits," Taeyang admitted.

Daehyun let out a small laugh. "Yeah. I thought so." He tilted his head slightly. "You know what Minho said about you, before I got back?"

Taeyang looked at him.

Daehyun grinned, sharp. "He said you bite harder than you bark."

Taeyang didn't respond.

"This city," Daehyun said, almost to himself. "It's not much."

Taeyang looked at him. "Then why fight for it?"

Daehyun was quiet for a second. Then he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I don't really know how to do anything else."

Taeyang didn't press him. He just waited.

Daehyun's hands went back into his pockets, his shoulders rolling slightly. "You probably already know the story. How me and Minho and Jeongdu drove out the pre-gen guys. How we kept Anyang from getting swallowed up."

Taeyang nodded.

"What you don't know," Daehyun continued, voice quieter, "is that they weren't always outsiders."

Taeyang frowned.

"They used to be from here," Daehyun said. "Not all of them, but a lot. Older guys. The ones who got pulled into the Pre-gen era and never made it out. They wanted to rebuild here, to turn Anyang into some graveyard for their glory days." 

His jaw clenched. "They looked at this place and thought it was theirs for the taking. That pissed me off."

"…Why?"

Daehyun let out a slow breath, eyes narrowing slightly as he stared ahead. "Because Anyang doesn't belong to them. Doesn't belong to anyone. Not them, not Seoul, not Suwon. Just the people who are here now." 

His fingers curled in his pockets. "I didn't fight for Anyang because I love this place. I fought because I don't want anyone else deciding what it should be."

Taeyang thought about that. It was the same reason he didn't like being called a dog. It wasn't about the label… it was about what it meant. 

About what people decided for you.

Daehyun chuckled, shaking his head. "You thought about why Minho's sending you and me to Ansan?"

"Because they've been pushing at us," Taeyang said simply.

Daehyun smirked. "Yeah. But also because we're both the kind of guys who won't let that slide." His gaze flicked to Taeyang. "You might not like being called a Hound, but let's be real… from what I've heard, you don't let go of a fight."

Taeyang didn't argue.

Daehyun sighed, stretching his arms briefly before letting them drop back into his pockets. "Anyway. That's why I stayed in Anyang. It's not about the city. It's about making sure no one else gets to claim it."

He said it like it was simple. 

Like it wasn't something that sat heavy on his shoulders. 

But Taeyang wasn't blind. Daehyun wasn't just fighting for Anyang… he was fighting to make sure it stayed free, to make sure it didn't fall into someone else's hands. 

That wasn't the kind of battle you won and walked away from. That was a war that never really ended.

People didn't look at him and see the struggle. They saw the victory.

Before this, Taeyang had always thought that Baek Daehyun was seemingly a tailor-made hero for Anyang. But now?

Now he wasn't so sure.

"And you?" Daehyun asked, glancing at Taeyang. "You fight for Minho?"

Taeyang exhaled sharply. "I fight for myself."

Daehyun hummed.

Then, casually, he asked, "So if you fight for yourself… why fight at all?"

Taeyang didn't answer right away. He just kept walking, his hands in his pockets, his breath visible in the cold night air.

Daehyun gave a short laugh. "C'mon. Don't tell me you don't have an answer."

Taeyang finally replied. "I fight because I'm good at it."

Daehyun tilted an eyebrow. "That all?"

Taeyang tilted his head slightly. "What else is there?"

Daehyun let out a breath through his nose, like he'd expected that answer.

"Most guys fight because they want something. Power. Fear. Respect. Even Minho… he fights for control, whether he admits it or not." His eyes flicked to Taeyang. "But you? You don't chase any of that. So what keeps you in this life?"

Taeyang didn't answer immediately. His steps were slow, deliberate. Then, after a long pause, he said, "Because it feels honest."

Daehyun raised a brow.

Taeyang kept his gaze ahead. "People lie all the time. They smile when they don't mean it. They shake hands with people they hate. They talk about loyalty and then stab each other in the back." 

"But a fight? A fight doesn't lie. You know exactly where you stand with someone the moment they throw a punch. How they throw a punch."

Daehyun studied him for a second. Then he nodded, a small, knowing smile on his lips. "Huh. Yeah. I get that."

He stretched his arms above his head, exhaling. "Guess that's why Minho likes you so much. You're not trying to be something you're not."

Taeyang scoffed. "Minho likes me because I get things done."

Daehyun grinned. "That too."

They walked a little further, the sounds of the city quiet around them. Then Daehyun spoke again, this time a little softer. "You ever think about what comes after?"

Taeyang glanced at him. "After what?"

"After all this. After the fighting. After Minho's plans. After we're done carving up territories and keeping people in check. After the First Generation ends."

Taeyang didn't respond. He couldn't.

After all, he was practically the only one who did know.

How James Lee would bring the First Generation to an end, bringing the generation of endless war to a halt, one King at a time.

And then the Age of crews would begin.

Did Taeyang want that?

Did he want to just let that happen?

Taeyang exhaled. "I… I don't know if I want it to end."

Daehyun smiled faintly, shaking his head. "Figures." Then, after a pause, he added, "I do."

Taeyang waited.

Daehyun's gaze flickered to the side, his expression unreadable. "But the problem with thinking ahead is… I don't know if a guy like me fits anywhere past this."

It wasn't self-pity. It wasn't regret. It was just a fact, said like a passing thought.

Taeyang didn't reply right away. Then he said, "That's not just a you problem."

Daehyun looked at him, surprised for a second. Then he let out a soft laugh. "Guess not."

They walked in silence after that.

The night stretched out before them.

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Some characterisation. Gotta know why Daehyun ticks after all. I mean, if you don't care about the person then how would you care about his fights.

Ansan arc coming up... you know who to expect😏.