"Psychotic fuck...mistake...trash..." blood flowed down his eyebrow as he shielded his face from the blows. "Just gotta wait it out, almost done," he repeated to himself as if in a trance. The skin on a child's arms wasn't much of an obstacle for a man's steel-toed boots. He remembered the feeling of flesh tearing, being dragged off his body. He watched blood pool across him like a faucet.

He forced his head out of the water, heaving as he tried to distinguish reality from the past.

The Union had a sinister reputation, and everyone knew the heads of the organization were far from your average student, especially Wolf Keum.

Most were aware of his sadistic personality and how much he loved to fight. However, they never knew how much of an understatement that was. He didn't just enjoy it; he needed it.

His victims would consider themselves lucky if they knew what Wolf truly wanted to do to them. Mutilation, tearing, carving, there was so much he wanted to do, so much he struggled not to do. A problem that bloomed in his childhood and continues to now.

Which was why he was currently sitting in his bathtub, his body submerged in water. It was pitch black outside, with even night shift workers having completed their work and now asleep.

The faucet poured out the lowest temperature setting, pieces of ice from the fridge floated, and his AC continuously blew cold air. Wolf was holding the sides of his arms and clenching his jaw as he continued to sit still, the only sound being his short breaths.

Ever since these urges started from a young age, Wolf quickly learned a temporary solution. Submerging himself in icy temperatures would force his mind to prioritize, placing his bloodlust on the back burner.

It wasn't enough to completely stop them, but it subdued them for now. He tightened his grip, and blood began to coat his fingertips; he started pondering on finding his next outlet, his next victim.

TOMORROW MORNING

Wolf walked out of his house and started towards the inner city; he wasn't sure where he was going but was simply following his gut feeling. Soon enough, he arrived in front of the Union's main building.

Despite Donald having an empty agenda for the next two weeks, high-ranking members of the organization were allowed access to and use of the building. A privilege Wolf was also granted, not that he took much advantage of it though.

He knew his brutality more than anyone else, including those unlucky enough to get a taste of it. He wanted to go all out, or at least not hold back as much as usual. Thus, he needed someone who was a somewhat capable fighter. Or, in this case, fighters.

"Didn't expect to see you here Wolfy! You lookin' for Donald?" Wolf turned around to see the Mok-ha-Duo, specifically, the blabbermouth of the two, Dongha Baek.

Both were recent additions to the Union; despite their recent arrival, they quickly became comfortable. Getting into others business, starting fights, and not acting their place.

Wolf didn't mind as he knew they had some skill to back up their cockiness, but today he wanted to use the two to let off some steam. He originally planned on just Seongmok Do; his large frame made him seem like a durable punching bag to Wolf.

Wolf eyed the two for a second, and without saying a word, he held their gaze. Before either could say something, he ran towards the smaller of the two.

Like routine, he quickly was able to pin him down; most people saw this as a common move of his. Thinking he did it so his opponents couldn't use their full force. On the contrary, he just didn't want to deal with the fuss of them running around.

As usual, his beating remained silent, with only the sounds of flesh hitting flesh being heard. It wasn't long before Dongha's arms fell limp at his side, and Wolf got up. He eyed his larger-than-him partner, who was currently fuming at seeing his friend trampled.

He didn't waste much time with Seongmok and went straight for the skull, pounding his knuckles into it. The damage could be heard solely from the sounds, loud enough for Kingsley to come out to the commotion.

He eyed the two, who now lay on the floor, covered in blood and bruises. He then eyed Wolf, who continued to maintain a calm yet unreadable expression on his face.

Wolf walked out as Kingsley's words were nothing more than background noise for him; he wasn't familiar with Donald's fighting style as he wasn't there to see him in action much. Still, his ignorance of Donald didn't translate to fear or respect for the man.

He continued walking out, ignoring Kingsley. His mind began to clear, and he felt his breathing becoming lighter. His urge started leaving him feeling calmer. He knew he wouldn't have to deal with them for a decent while.