Work Text:
[ The time limit for the scenario has been reached. ]
[ You have failed the scenario. ]
Ah, fuck.
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ is laughing at you.]
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ is shaking his head and sighing.]
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ is trying to reassure you!]
Kim Dokja pinched the bridge of his nose, and glanced at the Scenario information.
[ Hidden Scenario - In the Dog House ]
Category: Hidden
Difficulty: Easy
Clear Condition: Find and defeat the Leader of the Dire Wolves within the allotted time limit.
Time Limit: 30 minutes
Compensation: Acquire the exclusive skill of the Dire Wolves, ‘Tracking.’
Failure: ???
Han Sooyoung was never going to let him live this down, was she?
Kim Dokja shoved the heavy, blood-covered corpse of a Lesser Dire Wolf off his chest and stumbled to his feet. Really, he should know better than this. How did he manage to fuck it up this badly?
When he had recalled the ease with which Yoo Joonghyuk completed this scenario during the 32nd turn, he may have overestimated himself. Just.. a tiny amount.
Kim Dokja shook the blood from his blade and watched ruefully as the Dire Wolf Leader scampered over the corpses of its fallen packmates and disappeared into the trees, tail tucked between its legs like a scared mutt. It wasn’t like it was his fault the damn thing could run so fast.
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ is looking at you with a raised eyebrow.]
Kim Dokja cleared his throat.
Maybe it was a little bit his fault. But there was no way he could have known that the powers of the 73rd Demon King would buff these goddamned Dire Wolves so much! It’s not like Yoo Joonghyuk had ever used the powers of a Demon King in the novel, nor did he make any well-timed demonic acquaintances that would have been around to help him complete the scenario, so how could he have known? (As if Yoo Joonghyuk would have needed any assistance in the first place. The powers of the protagonist were chillingly efficient.) And there was no mention in the novel whatsoever of the convenient fact that, apparently, a Demon King’s aura would give the Dire Wolves a ridiculously overpowered stat boost. Seriously? Seriously?
[ Scenario Punishment will commence shortly. ]
Kim Dokja ran a hand down his face and groaned. The punishment for failing the scenario was purposefully omitted, and it would be foolish to rely on his knowledge of TWSA to figure out the penalty- Yoo Joonghyuk would quicker defeat the entirety of Olympus than he would fail such a simple scenario.
He could only hope the punishment wasn’t death.
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ is worried for you.]
With a long, drawn-out sigh, Kim Dokja activated the Midday Tryst. Might as well give Han Sooyoung a warning that the company may or may not have to hold another funeral in the meantime.
[ You have activated the Midday Tryst. ]
[ There are 2 unread messages. ]
/Han Sooyoung:/ Seriously?! Selfish bastard, I come back to hear you ran off to get another hidden piece for yourself??? (Sent 1 hour 13 minutes ago.)
/Han Sooyoung:/ Save some for the rest of us. Asshole (Sent 1 hour, 12 minutes ago.)
Kim Dokja ignored the unread messages and quickly began typing a response. He probably didn’t have long until the scenario penalty went into effect, and Han Sooyoung would kill him if he didn’t at least give her a heads up. He could feel the sparks of Probability charging the air with static, and the hair on his neck began to stand up.
/Kim Dokja:/ Han Sooyoun
[ Scenario Punishment is commencing. ]
“Shit,” Kim Dokja hissed, immediately squeezing his eyes shut at the sudden, throbbing pain that erupted behind his eyes, as Midday Tryst sent his unfinished message and disappeared from view.
“Fuck!” He cursed, hands flying up to clutch his temples. A weak groan slipped past his lips; it went unheard, though, as the Probability swirling around his head began thundering in earnest.
The trees surrounding him shuddered ominously, and the blisterings winds of Probability screeched past his ears like a shrieking banshee. Probability sparks bit and nipped at his skin, and he gritted his teeth against the onslaught of nausea that rose in his throat.
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ is biting her nails anxiously!]
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ is cackling.]
[The Constellation who likes to change genders hopes that the penalty is changing genders.]
[The Constellation who likes to change genders has sponsored 500 coins.]
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ is telling the constellation who likes to change genders to shut up.]
As Kim Dokja’s mind filled with the roars of static and his vision turned to darkness, the messages of the constellations faded from sight.
Before he could fully slip into unconsciousness, one hoarsely whispered word left his lips.
“Fuck.”
--
Kim Dokja blinked his eyes open groggily, immediately wincing at the headache that greeted him.
What..? he thought, trying to remember why he was currently laying on the ground. He tried to sit up and take stock of his body, but something felt.. off.
His movement gave rise to a rush of messages from the constellations, and his still-hazy vision spun at the sudden influx of text.
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ is clapping her hands excitedly.]
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ has sponsored 1,000 coins.]
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ thinks this penalty is ridiculous.]
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ is laughing so hard tears fall from his eyes.]
[The Constellation who likes to change genders is slightly disappointed.]
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ … ]
Kim Dokja shook his head to clear the fog clinging to his senses. Everything felt weird, and the sound of rustling leaves in the forest was too loud, has it always been this loud? His breathing sounded harsh and labored, the smell of Dire Wolf blood in his nose was overwhelmingly strong, and the constellations were acting even more weird than normal. Could this possibly get any worse?
And what the hell was the scenario penalty?
His eyes flicked to the message log, and scrolled past the constellations absurd messages, skimming the lines for the updated scenario information. When his eyes landed on the text, his mind blanked.
What, he thought. The fuck.
[ Hidden Scenario - In the Dog House ]
Category: Hidden
Difficulty: Easy
Clear Condition: Find and defeat the Leader of the Dire Wolves within the allotted time limit.
Time Limit: 30 minutes
Compensation: Acquire the exclusive skill of the Dire Wolves, ‘Tracking.’
Failure: All exclusive skills and stigmas will be disabled for 48 hours. Item and coin usage will be temporarily disabled. An additional penalty of ‘Transformation’ will also occur during the 48 hour period.
Kim Dokja felt dread curling in his stomach.
Slowly, slowly, Kim Dokja looked down.
“Fuck,” he tried, emphatically, still with a dash of hope in his chest.
“Bwoof,” is what came out, instead. The hope was crushed like a very small bug.
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ is squealing.]
“This is just great,” Kim Dokja growled. Literally, growled- the words came from his mouth as a fucking growl. He could practically hear Han Sooyoung cackling in his ear.
Taking stock of his.. body, Kim Dokja tried not to feel too frustrated. Looking down, he could see the brown, muddy-colored paws and forearms of a dog. The foreign sensation of ears pressing down against his skull was unsettling, but even more so was the heightened sense of smell.
The stench of blood and death surrounded him, the still bodies of Dire Wolves now much, much larger than him were laid littered around in the dirt in pools of their own blood. He resisted the urge to grimace.
Unfortunately, the Fourth Wall took the chance to speak up. It sounded extremely amused.
「 K im Do kj a s eems t o be i n q uit e t he p r edi ca men t. 」
Shut up, you.
The Fourth Wall quieted for a moment, but the welling sense of smugness buzzed incessantly at the edges of his mind like an annoying fly. Kim Dokja gritted his teeth and resolutely ignored it, even as it began its narration. Should he count himself lucky that the Fourth Wall wasn’t deactivated with the Scenario’s Penalty? He wasn’t that convinced. It was odd that the Fourth Wall didn’t count as a ‘skill,’ though.
「 I a m mo re t han j ust a m eas ly sk ill. 」
「 O f cou rse t his sc enar io p ena l t y w ould n ot af f ect m e.」
[‘The Fourth Wall’ is dangerously thin due to the Scenario Punishment.]
…
「 … 」
More than a measly skill, huh?
The Fourth Wall brooded in silence for a moment.
「 Kim D okja should probably sta rt moving sometime soon. Be fore the sun sets. 」
Begrudgingly, Kim Dokja had to agree. Not only were his skills and stigmas disabled, but his items were unusable as well- in his current state, he wouldn’t last more than a few seconds against the bloodthirsty monsters lurking in the forest. Just great.
He was genuinely contemplating hiding out in a hole somewhere for 48 hours to wait the penalty out and retain what little dignity he still had, but the aborted message he sent to Han Sooyoung through Midday Tryst was most likely sending the Company into a frenzy trying to figure out what happened.
Kim Dokja sighed, and resigned himself to his fate.
On unsteady feet (paws, really) he stood- the sensation of being on four legs was weird enough, and the additional extremities were not exactly helping, either. His ears kept flopping into his eyes, and he had to place each paw carefully to avoid stepping on his own tail- it was maddening.
He gingerly made his way around the Dire Wolf corpses, reluctantly getting used to the feeling of being on all fours. He spooked himself every so often, the feeling of his furred tail brushing against his legs startling him into whipping around. Each time he did, he was subjected to the messages that appeared from the constellations.
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ is amused by your new puny form.]
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ thinks you are very cute.]
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ wishes he could take a picture.]
[2,000 coins have been sponsored.]
Kim Dokja felt his ears press flat against his skull. A soft rumbling sound startled him, and he looked around with pricked ears for a few seconds before he realized the sound was coming from him.
He squared his shoulders and tried not to feel too embarrassed, quieting the growls that had started up in his chest unbidden.
All he had to do was get back to the complex, and he could deal with the penalty there. Putting aside the absurdity of this ridiculous scenario punishment, it wasn’t that bad.
It was just 48 hours. How bad could it be?
--
Kim Dokja, huddled under an abandoned makeshift tent, drenched and shivering, cursed himself.
How bad could it be, he had asked.
As it turns out, it could be very, very bad. His stupid, floppy ears shook everytime he trembled, curled into a miserable, soggy ball under the shredded tent canopy, in the poor excuse for shelter that jolted ominously with each howling gust of wind.
Without his skills, his body was pitifully weak, and especially vulnerable to the cold. The sun had long past sunk below the treeline, and the chilly wind that followed in its wake was brutal, for his newly transformed body. His small form was wracked with full-body shivers, the soaked through fur on his back doing little to keep away the biting cold. He had forgotten, mostly, in the chaos that was the Scenarios- how it felt to be human.
Or, in this case, how it felt to be a dog.
Rain poured in sheets around him, slipping through the rips and tears in the tent and dripping on his already drenched coat. His paws were covered in mud, and dirt and branches stuck to his fur like burrs.
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ is devastated and wishes she could help.]
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ has sponsored 500 coins.]
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ thinks you should keep moving.]
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ says you’re going to get eaten.]
Kim Dokja shoved his snout beneath his tail and curled up tighter. If he’s lucky, the cloying scent of dead Dire Wolves will be enough to disguise his scent to whatever monstrosities are lurking around in the woods, and he can stay hidden until the morning comes.
Obviously, because the universe hates Kim Dokja very, very much, that was not going to happen. Just as he had managed to gather even a tiny amount of warmth and slip into some semblance of sleep, the sound of rustling grass and footsteps jolted him awake.
He shot up, scrambling back to hide as far as he could go, with little success- the tiny canopy was barely large enough to cover him, and to leave meant returning to the screeching winds and pouring rain. But did it really matter if he was going to get eaten anyway?
Frozen with indecision, Kim Dokja nearly jumped out of his skin when the back of his neck was suddenly gripped tightly, and he was foisted into the air by his scruff.
He yelped and thrashed, eyes wide, turning to stare at whoever had grabbed him, and wasn’t this humiliating? The 73rd Demon King, picked up and dragged around by his scruff like an unruly mutt-
“The hell’re you doing out here, huh?” The man grumbled, peering down at him with narrowed eyes. Kim Dokja bared his teeth and growled, as though he was not hanging six feet off the ground and trembling like a leaf.
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ is jumping out of her seat in anger.]
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ is trying to calm Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ down.]
The man looked at him assessingly, and Kim Dokja got the feeling he was being sized up for a meal. His ears flattened against his head, and, embarrassingly, a pitiful whine escaped him. The hand on his neck felt like Song Minwoo’s tight grip on his collar, the sound of his low, threatening voice in his ear all too familiar.
“A little too thin to eat, aren’tcha. Maybe the boys can turn you into a guard dog, or somethin’,” the man said, after a moment, and Kim Dokja felt his hackles raise. He tried to thrash, to throw his head to the side and sink his teeth into the man’s rough, thick-skinned hand, but the man just laughed heartily and shook him hard enough to see stars.
While Kim Dokja was trying to blink the dark spots from his eyes, the man’s other hand shot up and gripped his muzzle tightly, snapping it shut before he could try to bite those calloused fingers off again.
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ … ]
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ … ]
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ … ]
The messages of the constellations flickered out of his vision when he dismissed them, feeling utterly unwilling to read the words as he fought the man’s unyielding grip. The hand felt as though it was made of stone, clamped around his face and pressing hard enough on his nose that it was hard to breathe.
A panicked whine jumped from his throat, and he pawed uselessly at the unmoving hand with growing desperation. The man was infuriatingly unfazed, and just started walking in the other direction, boots crunching the leaves underfoot as he made his way back to their camp.
Kim Dokja squirmed and thrashed, but it was a fruitless endeavor. The cold had sapped the energy from his body, and he felt alarmingly weak, so he could only hang uselessly as the man carried him away.
He must have dozed off at some point, because when he blinked awake he was lying next to a crackling campfire and the sound of loud chatter surrounded him.
Kim Dokja jolted upright, instantly on edge. There were four men sitting around the fire and talking loudly, waving their hands and arguing boisterously with one another, but none of them were looking his way. Matching flushes sat upon each of the men’s cheeks, and the empty cans of cheap beer littered around the firepit could only speak for their sobriety. He could.. he could run, surely. Four intoxicated men were nothing compared to the shit he’d dealt with already.
Kim Dokja jumped to his feet and made to bolt, but he had only taken three steps when something around his neck suddenly pulled taut, and he lurched to the side; he could only yelp as he realized there was a rope, wound around his throat and tied tightly in a knot, holding him from going more than a few feet from the men sitting by the fire.
“Aww,” one of the men slurred, gripping tightly in his hand the end of the rope bound around Kim Dokja’s neck. His beady eyes sharpened. “The doggy woke up, fellas.”
Kim Dokja tensed against the rope, but the man just gave it another harsh pull. He tumbled forward and whimpered at the tight sensation around his neck, tail tucking between his legs against his will- the man just laughed, amused at his distress. The other men finally gained enough sense to turn and see what was going on, and immediately they began laughing uproariously.
“Th’ hell are you gonna do with that thing, Carter?” one sputtered, looking between Kim Dokja’s small form and the man’s- Carter’s- hand on the rope. “That mutt can’t guard for shit. It’s like, what, thirty pounds?”
Carter sniffed indignantly. “Oh, fuck off. Y’know, my sister used’ta be a, like, dog trainer. I’ll fucking- I’ll train it to sniff out coins, or somethin’.”
The other three men exploded into laughter. Carter looked somewhat incensed, and turned to stare at Kim Dokja with a scowl.
“C’mere, you little shit,” he cooed, tugging the rope and bringing a very much unhappy Kim Dokja within biting range. He stuck a hand out towards Kim Dokja’s head.
Kim Dokja’s hackles raised, and his face twisted into a snarl. As soon as the hand was close enough, he lunged- his teeth sunk into the man’s fleshy hand with a satisfying spurt of blood, and an accompanying shriek of pain.
The satisfaction lasted all of about five seconds, before the man gathered his drunken wits and sent a steel-toed boot straight into Kim Dokja’s gut.
[‘Th e Fou rth W all’ has o ffset som e o f th e pa i n.]
His vision exploded into black spots, and he made some kind of highly embarrassing yelp. The Fourth Wall was too weak from the scenario penalty to do much more than keep him conscious- he landed in a heap, whimpering in pain and curling into himself while he tried to keep his vision from spinning.
Beyond the ringing in his ears, he couldn’t hear the footsteps approaching him, but he sluggishly lashed out at the feeling of hands on his body. His vision was still spotty and his head spun, so when the hands were joined by another pair and he was forced down, he could do nothing more than squirm weakly. Someone grabbed him by the scruff and shoved his head into the dirt; another kept his body still so he could not pull away. Panic shot through his body and he thrashed, but the hands were too strong, and he was too weak-
[‘The Fourth Wall’ is shaking!]
The worst came last, when the rough press of rope suddenly wrapped around his muzzle, snapping his jaws shut tight and forcing his mouth to draw painfully closed. He snarled as best he could, thrashing his head about in distress, but the hands held him down firmly, and the rope was knotted securely at the back of his skull without a hitch. His snarls tapered off into long, low whines, and the hands all abruptly released him and stepped back.
[‘The Fourth Wall’ is violently reacting!]
“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it!” one laughed, face flushed with alcohol and lit red by the fire. Kim Dokja tried not to cower, but the Fourth Wall was all but useless, and he could feel himself trembling, feeling the full force of panic and fear that the Fourth Wall usually diluted to a manageable level. Shame clogged his throat and whimpers drew from his mouth unbidden, which only served to amuse the men further. His tail tucked between his legs and his head lowered, and he ended up taking an unconscious step backwards.
The rope around his neck bit into his throat like a vice, and the men paid him no heed, returning to their beer and drunken laughter without another glance towards him.
“Fucksake, Carter,” one wheezed. “Ya’ sure know how to pick em’!”
“If nothin’ else, we can always eat the thing,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes.
One of them glanced sidelong at Kim Dokja, peering at his raised hackles and lowered head thoughtfully.
“Do you still have that cage we used for the last stray mutt that was lurking around here? This little fucker looks like he’d knaw straight through the rope and run off while we sleep.”
[‘The Fourth Wall’ is trembling.]
Kim Dokja tensed, ears flattening against his skull. A growl rumbled deep in his chest, but the men were not intimidated in the least. The man who suggested it got up to look for it after some lighthearted argument, grumbling all the while.
Kim Dokja strained against the rope, ignoring the blistering pain of the coarse binds digging into his skin, but Carter’s grip on the lead stayed firm, despite his obvious intoxication- by the time the other man returned with a rusted, too-small cage in his arms, Kim Dokja was full-on thrashing, throwing all of his thirty-pounds weight into pulling away. The only thing he achieved was a tightened knot around his throat and another smarting kick to the ribs.
The cage was set down beside the fire and opened with a shriek of rusty hinges. Kim Dokja’s nostrils flared in his panic, sides heaving as he pulled and snarled, flashing teeth beneath the rope- not that it did much good, though, because when tugging on the lead wasn’t enough to get him through the small entrance to the cage, the men did not hesitate to resort to kicking. Kim Dokja was unceremoniously knocked through the entrance, the door slamming harshly behind him even as he whipped around to scamper out.
The door latch clicked into place with a chilling finality. Kim Dokja pressed against the back of the cage, flashing his teeth as he looked up at the four men looming over him. His tail pressed tight to his flank, and his head brushed the top of the cage; it was clearly built for a much smaller animal, and he had to hunch over in the far corner so his nose didn’t brush the door to the cage.
Growing horror crept up his spine like the sharp tip of Unbroken Faith. Trembling faintly, he realized that he was well and truly fucked. No one knew where he was, and these fucking assholes were going to leave him in this tiny fucking box, and he was too weak to do anything besides cower.
“Fiesty little bastard, aren’tcha?” Carter sneered, looking down at him from his looming height like he was some kind of pathetic mutt.
Kim Dokja whimpered in response, weak and pitiful, and it sounded like the broken, whispered mantra of I am Yoo Joonghyuk. I am Yoo Joonghyuk.
The men laughed, and kicked at the sides of the cage a few more times just to watch him tremble and curl further into himself.
[‘The Fourth Wall’ is violently shaking!]
Eventually they grew bored of the torment, and decided to turn in for the night- the fire was doused and stomped out, and tents were entered. One of them sat off to the side to keep watch, but the rest packed into their tents and fell silent.
Kim Dokja stared hatefully through the dirtied, rust-covered bars of the cage. Hatred clawed its way through his chest, but his body was exhausted, and even sleeping within the cramped confines of this too-small prison sounded like a dream for his weary body. The loss of the fire meant the chill had begun creeping back beneath his fur, sinking into his sore ribs and aching muzzle and piercing where it hurt.
He maneuvered his limbs underneath him in some semblance of a comfortable position, as much as he could manage in such a small space. He tucked his nose into his side and shivered, squeezing his eyes shut tight, trying to pretend the quiet, mournful whimpers weren’t coming from him.
[‘The Fourth Wall’ is greatly affected.]
「 … 」
「 I ’ m s o rry .」
Kim Dokja fell into a fitful sleep.
--
The cage’s rattling sides and the sound of loud jeering tore him from the cold depths of sleep. Kim Dokja bolted upright and immediately pressed into the corner of the cage, eyes darting around frantically to find the source of his disruption.
A wide, sharp sneer greeted him at the front of the cage, and Kim Dokja felt his lips curl into a snarl.
“Good morning, puppy,” Carter cooed, banging a fist onto the top of the cage. The dim sunlight casting the man’s face in ominous shadows told him it was earlier than noon, but there was already a beer in Carter’s hand and a red-tinged flush in his cheeks.
Kim Dokja pressed further towards the back of the crate, baring his teeth when the man stuck a beckoning finger through the bars.
“Don’t be like that,” he said, a put-upon frown on his face. His eyes shone with mirth. “It’s time for walkies, buddy. Walkies! Aren’t you excited?”
Humiliation curled in Kim Dokja’s gut like a blistering hot iron. He wanted to lash out, to tear that piece of shit’s throat out with his teeth, but his bladder was uncomfortably full, and the man’s teasing offer was looking like his only option. His teeth gnashed, and he bit down on the growls in his throat, forcing himself to lower his head and his hackles.
“Oh?” Carter said, brows raising. He seemed mildly surprised. “Smart fuckin’ dog, huh. At least you know when to shut the hell up.”
Kim Dokja forced himself to stay perfectly still until the man’s clumsy fingers reached towards the latch.
“Stupid crate,” the man grumbled, fumbling drunkenly with the latch. His grip on the rusted metal was a bit shaky, but he managed to slide the mechanism open. Kim Dokja waited for the door to slowly swing open, then he bolted.
Carter cried out a curse when he darted between his legs like a shot, but Kim Dokja could only hear his own furious panting breaths as he booked it as fast as he could towards the treeline. Just a bit farther, and he’d be fucking- free-!
Seconds away from the cover of the trees, a pressure on his throat snatched the breath from his lungs, and his entire body was torn backwards. He gave a shrill, pained cry, landing in a crumpled heap of limbs on the soil, wheezing from the quickly tightening pain on his neck, harsh tugs turning the binds taut and burning.
Kim Dokja tried to scramble to his feet, but before he could so much as lift his head, a crushing weight landed on his side with all the force of a fucking semi-truck. He yelped and thrashed, but the pressure on his ribs kept him pinned to the ground like a squirming insect.
“You fucker,” Carter wheezed, looming over him with one foot pressed punishingly against Kim Dokja’s side. Another whimper escaped his clamped-shut jaw. “I dropped my fucking beer.”
Kim Dokja thrashed, but the booted heel just came down harder on his side and pushed all the air from his lungs at once. He bit out a whine through his teeth, but Carter just dug his heel in deeper.
“Piece of shit. I’m going to beat the shit out of you,” he said, drawing his face up and spitting. The glob of spit landed on Kim Dokja’s cheek, and he snarled like a rabid dog, but Carter just kept smirking.
[‘The Fourth Wall’ is shaking.]
There was a brief moment when the bruising force on his side lifted, and Kim Dokja almost sobbed in relief. Before he could gather himself from the floor and make another run for it, though, the foot came down harder.
And then it lifted again, and slammed right back down.
[‘Th e Fou rth W all’ has o ffset som e o f th e pa i n.]
A pitched yelp left his mouth and he howled, even as the foot came back down, and back down, because something just cracked and the boot grinding into his ribs over and over stole what pitiful energy he had left in his small body. He howled and thrashed until the cries turned into weak, whimpered keens and his body could only shudder tremulously with every bruising kick. And then pressure on his ribs finally- finally- disappeared.
[‘The Fourth Wall’ is violently trembling.]
“Are you done?” Carter sneered. Kim Dokja could not muster the strength to lift his head and stare balefully upwards to see his face, but he could practically hear the shit-eating grin . The only response he gave was an imploring whimper, which seemed to satisfy Carter.
He laughed, cruel and spiteful, and watched Kim Dokja heave and pant at his feet.
“Now you know what happens if you try to run,” he taunted, giving one last pointed kick to Kim Dokja’s side. “Get up, mutt, or we can go another round.”
Kim Dokja struggled to get his feet under him, the pain in his ribs thrumming excruciatingly each time he so much as twitched, but the sound of boots crunching on the soil was enough to send adrenaline shooting through his veins, so he scrambled to pull his uncooperative limbs into some semblance of a sitting position.
Carter looked endlessly smug, smirking down at his hunched, cowering form like it was something to be proud of.
“Good puppy,” he cooed softly, one hand coming down to ruffle between Kim Dokja’s ears. He couldn’t help but flinch at the touch.
[‘The Fourth Wall’ is trembling.]
--
When they got back to the camp, Carter shoved him back into the cage without an ounce of hesitation.
Kim Dokja curled up as best he could in the space without so much as a whimper. He was just.. so tired. Carter was off arguing loudly by the fire, and Kim Dokja let his head fall tiredly to his paws.
He shut his eyes tight against the vicious throbbing pain in his sides, and imagined the soft embrace of his bed back at the complex.
--
He was once again dragged from the blissful, painlessness of unconsciousness by a shout.
“Motherfuckers,” an all too familiar voice spat, and god if it wasn’t the best sound Kim Dokja had ever heard in his life. “Have you seen an ugly ahjussi wearing a white coat? Don’t make me ask twice.”
He jumped up, momentarily forgetting the fact that he was currently shoved inside a twenty-two by fifteen inch crate. He banged his head on the top, but his tail was wagging vigorously, shaking his entire body back and forth with the force of it. The wiggling jostled his sore ribs and set them alight with a burning pain, but he just couldn’t stop.
He really should have been more embarrassed, honestly, but he was so focused on the sound of Han Sooyoung’s peeved voice that he just frantically paced and shuffled around in the cage, trying to draw her attention. Relieved, breathy whimpers left his throat, but he couldn’t even be bothered to care.
“What’s it to you, bitch?” one of the men snarled, and Kim Dokja’s tail only wagged faster at the sound of a fist meeting flesh and a pained cry.
“Answer her question and I’ll think about letting you leave with one of your arms attached,” said a voice, this one even more familiar than Han Sooyoung’s.
Kim Dokja’s ears perked, and he began shuffling restlessly in the cage- Yoo Joonghyuk, Yoo Joonghyuk, Yoo Joonghyuk! his mind chanted, and he began pawing frantically at the door of the crate, making as much noise as he could with rope wrapped around his muzzle. It resulted in a loud mesh of half-muffled whines and thumping sounds, as he pawed at the sides of the crate and squirmed about furiously.
“You- What is that fucking sound?” Han Sooyoung suddenly interrupted herself, and Kim Dokja could nearly sob. Yes, right here! Turn! Around! An embarrassingly high pitched whine escaped him, and his tail was beating against the sides of the cage like a drum, but Han Sooyoung was walking towards him! She’s - right - here-!
“What the fuck,” she said, looking down at the tiny cage and the pitiful dog squirming within it. “You motherfuckers, what the hell is this?”
Kim Dokja stared imploringly up at her, attempting to communicate his current predicament with only his beseeching, puppy-eyed gaze.
Behind her, the unmistakable broad-shouldered figure that could be none other than Yoo Joonghyuk stopped a few paces away.
“What are you doing?” he asked, and the sound of his low voice set Kim Dokja’s tail wagging furiously. Yes! Yes! Yes!!! Let him out!!! It’s Kim Dokja!!!! Take him home!!!!!!!
“They’ve got some dog shut up in a tiny ass cage,” she said, furious for all the wrong reasons, and Kim Dokja felt his hope shatter into a billion tiny pieces.
No, he pleaded. I am Kim Dokja. Not a dog.
Han Sooyoung kneeled down, hands coming up to undo the latch on the door.
Finally. Finally, he was out of that prison. He could barely contain the relief that filled him at the sight of Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk peering down at him. He scrambled hastily out of the cage and threw himself into Han Sooyoung’s lap, whimpering and trying his best to lick her fingers around the rope on his face, wiggling furiously from the frantic tail-wagging.
Han Sooyoung seemed shocked at his immediate clinginess, but she did not shove him off as he half-expected her too. Small, lithe hands came up to his face, and he couldn’t suppress a flinch when her fingers came close to the rope. She quickly undid the knots in the binds, and it fell from his face in a pile, leaving his snout wonderfully free of the coarse rope and the uncomfortable, blistering pain.
Maybe it was the Scenario transformation, or the dangerously thin Fourth Wall, but Kim Dokja could not fight the dog-like urge to spring onto his hind legs and lick all over her face. He whined, a sound of pure, unadulterated relief, wiggling in her lap and putting his paws all over her as he bounded around in joy.
“Jesus,” she said, when she had finally set him down and stood, wiping slobber from her face with a strained expression. “What the hell did you do to this thing?”
“We didn’t do jack shit,” Carter snarled, but was quickly silenced with a glare from Yoo Joonghyuk. His hand rested on the hilt of his Breaking the Sky Sword, and the men glanced at it warily.
“Where the fuck is Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk demanded, stepping threateningly closer towards the cowering men.
Kim Dokja barked helpfully.
“Who the fuck is Kim Dokja,” one of the men cried out, holding his bloody nose with tears in his eyes.
“I think it’s safe to assume these dumbasses haven’t got a thing to do with Kim Dokja’s idiocy,” Han Sooyoung grumbled, brushing the dog hair off of her shirt.
Kim Dokja barked once more, pointedly.
Han Sooyoung narrowed her eyes and looked towards him.
“ … ”
Kim Dokja stared up at her with large, wet eyes.
“Kim Dokja, I swear to god, if that’s you I’m going to kick your fucking ass.”
He barked again, tail wagging like mad.
“For fuck’s sake, Kim Dokja!”
--
“The dog,” Yoo Joonghyuk started, completely deadpan. “Is Kim Dokja.”
Kim Dokja nodded sagely. Han Sooyoung ran a hand down her face.
“How the fuck does this always happen to you,” she said, long-suffering and tired. Kim Dokja pressed his wet nose against her fingers helpfully.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips twitched up at the corners, a microscopically small movement. Kim Dokja’s tail began to wag again, much to his embarrassment.
Ah.
He.. may have been a bit more affected by the transformation than he thought. The Fourth Wall was still active; he could feel its weak presence in the back of his mind. It was just uncharacteristically silent, and worryingly thin, which was probably why the transformation was affecting him to this extent. The bruising pain in his ribs still throbbed something fierce, and it took a considerable amount of energy to keep from limping.
Yoo Joonghyuk looked him up and down, eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. Of course, he couldn’t be fooled by such paltry attempts. Kim Dokja felt the urge to avert his gaze, and nervously shifted on his feet. Yoo Joonghyuk kneeled beside him, and took his head carefully into his hands.
Kim Dokja eyed him warily, ears twitching. Yoo Joonghyuk brought a calloused finger along his snout and gently smoothed over the skin that had turned red and irritated. He turned his sharp eyes to the men cowering to the side, and a glint of bloodlust appeared within his dark pupils.
“These are the bastards that stuck you in a cage?” he asked quietly, voice completely devoid of emotion.
Kim Dokja blinked slowly at him, then looked towards the men standing off to the side. He gave a short nod.
“I see.” Yoo Joonghyuk stood calmly. He turned back around, and cracked his knuckles.
It was entertaining to see the four grown men visibly quiver, faced with the six-foot force of nature that was Joonghyuk when he was angry. No, he was furious.
A small part of Kim Dokja’s chest grew very, very warm.
-
It was Yoo Joonghyuk that picked him up after he had finished wiping the blood from his knuckles. He slid his large, warm hands under Kim Dokja’s chest and stomach, lifting him carefully and holding him gently against his chest like precious cargo.
His soft actions were almost completely at odds with his gruff, irritated tone.
“How foolish do you have to be to fail such a simple scenario?” he chided, annoyed, but his hand continued smoothing down the dirtied fur on Kim Dokja’s back, gentle as though he were made of glass, careful to avoid the sore spots on his side. Kim Dokja’s tail hadn’t stopped wagging since he was picked up.
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ is sobbing happily.]
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ is sinking back in his chair with relief.]
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ thinks you should go back and rip their throats out!]
Han Sooyoung grumbled at his side as they made the trip back to the complex. “You’re such a dumbass,” she said, fondly.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand occasionally found its way to the top of his head, and rubbed behind his ears in a way that had his back leg thumping and tail wagging madly.
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ is squealing.]
Han Sooyoung eyed his muddy, dirt-covered coat with barely hidden disdain.
“You know, the kids are going to love giving you a bath when we get back,” she said, casually.
Kim Dokja stilled, ears going flat against his head. He turned to her with pleading eyes, but she seemed virtually unaffected by him.
“Cruel woman,” he said, but it was more of an imploring whimper than anything comprehensible. Though, the smug look on Han Sooyoung’s face made him think she understood.
--
[ There are 24 hours remaining of the Scenario Punishment. ]
“Ahjussi,” Shin Yoosung chided, gently scrubbing the dirt from his fur, “stop fidgeting so much, please.”
Kim Dokja tried his best not to squirm. Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung sat on opposite sides of him, kneeling fully clothed in the bathtub, faces set in identical serious expressions. A frankly ridiculous amount of soap suds were piled around them, to his displeasure.
Lee Gilyoung patted his head with a wet, soapy hand. “It’s okay, Dokja-hyung. We’re almost done.”
Kim Dokja looked up beseechingly towards the rest of the company, who were lurking in the doorway and pretending like they weren’t watching. Only Yoo Joonghyuk met his pleading, doe-eyed gaze, and his only response was a merciless quirk of his lips. His eyes seemed to say, you did this to yourself, fool.
There was the repeated sounds of camera shuttering, and Kim Dokja resigned himself to the blackmail attempts with a sigh.
They weren’t even trying to hide it, at this point. Lee Jihye was badly disguising her laughter as coughs, and she had forgotten to turn the flash off of her phone. Lee Hyunsung looked like he was about to faint, and Han Sooyoung wasn’t even bothering to be discreet with the way she snapped photos every few seconds. Even Yoo Sangah was taking a video, a small smile creeping its way across her face. Kim Dokja tried not to feel too betrayed.
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ thinks this is deserved.]
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ supports this endeavor.]
Lee Gilyoung ruffled his fur with shining eyes, and Kim Dokja pointedly ignored the way his tail wagged every time their hands stroked gently down his back. Thankfully, the pain in his ribs had all but disappeared- Yoo Joonghyuk’s first stop when they arrived was Lee Seolhwa’s office, and one [Life and Death Pill] later, Kim Dokja was as good as new. Honestly, he tried to tell them that it was overkill, but his unintelligible huffing sounds were useless when faced with the brick wall of a Yoo Joonghyuk that had made up his mind.
Kim Dokja tried not to sulk. When the kids finally deemed his fur to be sufficiently clear of dirt, they doused him in lukewarm water and patted him sympathetically. He felt like a drowned rat.
“All done!” Shin Yoosung chirped, standing from the tub. Her pants were drenched, and soap suds clung to her shirt. Lee Gilyoung was not much better off, but the two clambered out of the bathtub and began dripping all over the floor.
Ah. Might as well, right?
Kim Dokja scrambled to the side of the tub, paws slipping and sliding on the smooth surface. He placed both paws over the side, trying not to wobble unsteadily; a glance towards the peanut gallery lurking in the doorway proved they’d be no help. Kim Dokja sighed.
“Ah, I’ll help you, Ahjussi!”
“No, I’ll help him! Move over, Yoosung!”
“You little-”
Kim Dokja jumped over the side of the tub. He landed upright, only slightly unsteady on his sopping wet paws, dripping buckets onto the tile. He straightened, and trotted over to where Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung were pulling each other’s hair.
Lee Hyunsung, thoughtful as always, grabbed a towel and stepped closer.
“Here you go, Dokja-,” he started to say, smiling gently.
Kim Dokja interrupted him by shaking his entire body and dousing everything within a 5-foot radius.
“-ssi,” Lee Hyunsung finished, lamely.
Han Sooyoung gave an unholy shriek.
“Kim Dokja,” she growled, wiping soap suds from her face, “I’m going to kill you.”
Kim Dokja darted through their legs and made for underneath the couch.
“Nooo!” Shin Yoosung cried, sounding absolutely stricken. “He’s going to get all dirty again!”
His nails scrabbled against the floors as he bolted towards the safety of the sofa. Sorry, Shin Yoosung.
Before he could scramble underneath the cushions, though, two large hands scooped him up by his armpits and lifted him high into the air.
He squirmed wildly, but he was turned around to see Yoo Joonghyuk’s entirely unamused face. There was still a bit of soap sud clinging to his eyebrow, and Kim Dokja could not suppress a snort.
“Oh, you think this is funny?” he said, eyes narrowing.
Kim Dokja widened his eyes dramatically and shook his head side-to-side. Of course not, he seemed to say, completely and utterly sincere. His wildly wagging tail mostly gave him away.
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ thinks this is funny.]
[Constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Flame’ also thinks this is funny.]
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ thinks this is hilarious. ]
Yoo Joonghyuk’s brow twitched.
“You know what I think dog ahjussi needs?” Lee Jihye interrupted, peeking out from behind Yoo Joonghyuk’s broad shoulders with a wide, unsettling grin. Kim Dokja tensed, feeling slightly foreboding.
“A sedative?” Han Sooyoung guessed, deadpan.
“No,” Lee Jihye said, smile growing wider. “A makeover.”
Oh no, Kim Dokja thought.
“Oh yes,” Han Sooyoung said.
--
“You know,” Yoo Sangah whispered, silently taking another picture with her phone. “They look kind of cute like that, when they’re all asleep together.”
Jung Heewon glanced over the crowded couch. Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung sandwiched a knocked-out cold Kim Dokja, either of their arms slung across his form- his normal, human form. She kind of missed the floppy ears and curly tail.
Lee Jihye lay passed out beside them, a butterfly clip dangling loosely in her grip.
The rest of the clips were fixed firmly in Kim Dokja’s still-damp hair, decorating his crown with a multi-colored swarm of sparkling plastic butterflies. His face was slack and content, completely relaxed in his sleep. The sight made her heart squeeze, just a little.
Jung Heewon bit down on a grin. Yoo Joonghyuk lay silently in the corner of the couch, eyes closed and lips turned up into a tiny, soft smile, his broad figure crowded beside a loudly snoring Lee Hyunsung. Han Sooyoung, scowling even in her sleep, had draped herself over the couch arm.
Each of them had various amounts of butterfly clips scattered in their hair.
Yoo Sangah laughed, muffled and quiet behind her hand.
“I’m so glad,” Jung Heewon said, eyes soft. The That he’s okay, that he’s here went unspoken, but Yoo Sangah’s fond smile told her it did not go unheard.
“Yeah,” Yoo Sangah said. “Me too.”