Wolf Keum wasn't a stranger to companionship; while he didn't have anyone he would sincerely call a "friend," he still understood the concept... and how it often landed idiots in hot water.
His hair was a dark shade of purple; it was also one of the main characteristics others knew him by, aside from the reoccurring bloody messes he would make of people.
Despite the attention it drew to him, Wolf never bothered to change it, and over the years, it became his most common feature. His brutality would often become uploaded to social media, either from bystanders or onlookers. Whenever his name was unknown, his unique hair would take its place.
The problem was that with a combination of people dying to join (aka reap the benefits of) the union and Wolf being in the top food chain, people would try to win him over in costly ways.
"That's him, right?" "It's gotta be. No way does anyone else have that kind of hair," discussed a trio of lackeys. Before quickly shutting up, Donald Na ushered everyone through the doors, signaling the start of the union's meeting.
After discussing the finances, developments, and new additions, the meeting eventually ended. Most were permitted to leave, while a few were "held back" for a private audience with Donald. It was easy to tell who were high-level members with further business to discuss and others who thought they could cheat the union. Instead, they were now in a world of hurt.
Keeping a tight ship and effective results were expected of Wolf. While most heads had at least a few incidents regarding not meeting quotas, Wolf was the exception. He continuously maintained an immaculate record at every meeting, resulting in his exits and debriefs often being swift. Outside the building, Wolf smoked a cigarette and started running numbers in his head before he was interrupted.
"Donald sure does like to go on and on, huh?" "Makes me wanna fall asleep right there listening to him." "Wicked hair, by the way. I dig the color," yapped a trio of union members.
Wolf remained silent and kept blowing out smoke; he continued meeting their eyes as they kept blabbering. He'd witnessed this misconception before, people comparing him to the other hot-headed fools in the union and assuming he enjoyed talking shit about his boss. While also thinking that having abnormal hair choices meant he must enjoy talking about his hair.
His eyes never left theirs as he blew out one final puff of smoke, reaching the end of the countdown in his head. One of the benefits of altercations involving lackeys was that they knew who they were up against. They knew how much worse things could get for them and how many more bones he could break.
Wolf always relished how they would stand motionless, eyes to the floor, as their bodies were slowly getting additions of knuckle imprints.
Despite his enjoyment, he still had to factor in the fact that they were still with the union and cut his fun early. He enjoyed the benefits of the union and wasn't planning on putting Donald down just yet.
"Get the fuck out of here," he muttered as he watched the two limp away, one of the trio punching the other as they walked, "I told you we should've just left him alone," he complained to his friends.
