Fuck.
Ricky shoved the inhaler into his pocket and threw the bag back at Zhang Hao with a frustrated grunt. "I don't care what it takes," he growled, his voice low and filled with determination. "I'm going to find Gyuvin. No matter what."
Before Hanbin or Zhang Hao could stop him, Ricky ran toward Gyuvin's bike, hopped on, and started pedaling furiously down the street. His legs burned, his muscles ached, but he didn't care. He had to find Gyuvin. He had to.
"Ricky, wait!" Zhang Hao called after him, but it was too late. Ricky was already speeding away, disappearing down the street.
Zhang Hao let out a shaky breath, his hands still trembling as he turned to Hanbin. "He's not going to stop, is he?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with worry.
Hanbin shook his head, his expression grim. "No. And we can't stop either. We have to help him."
Zhang Hao nodded, pulling out his phone. "I'll call the others. We need all the help we can get."
Hanbin nodded in agreement, and the two of them split up, running in opposite directions to continue the search.
Meanwhile, Ricky kept pedaling. His legs were screaming in protest, but he ignored the pain. He couldn't stop. Not until he found Gyuvin.
He searched every corner, every street, every alley he could find. His eyes darted around, desperate for any sign of Gyuvin. The city felt like a labyrinth, and time was slipping away too fast. Hours passed, but Ricky didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
His legs were about to give out when he finally reached the edge of the city. It was a dead end, a place Ricky hadn't been before. The street was dark, the only light coming from a few flickering street lamps. It looked like a dumping ground for broken-down vehicles, a graveyard of twisted metal and rusted frames. It felt off. Too quiet.
Ricky slowed to a stop, his chest heaving with exhaustion. He parked Gyuvin's cycle in a corner, his eyes scanning the area. There was a 'Do Not Enter' sign, but Ricky ignored it, his instincts telling him this was where he needed to be.
The further he walked into the alley, the darker it got. His hands were trembling, and his breath was shallow as he looked around. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that made his blood run cold.
A black van.
It was parked at the far end of the alley, looking suspiciously out of place among the junked cars and wrecked bikes. But what made Ricky's heart stop was what he saw on the ground near the van — something small and shiny.
He quickly crouched down, picking it up with trembling hands.
It was Gyuvin's house key.
Attached to the key was a small metal keychain with little music notes dangling off it. Ricky recognized it instantly. It was a gift from Zhang Hao — he remembered when Hao had shown it to him before giving it to Gyuvin.
Ricky's heart dropped into his stomach. Gyuvin had to be here.
His hands were shaking as he pocketed the key and slowly made his way toward the large warehouse nearby. His steps were careful, quiet, his entire body tense.
As he approached the entrance, his breath caught in his throat.
Through the narrow opening of the warehouse door, he saw them. Armed men, pacing back and forth, guns in their hands, knives at their belts. But that wasn't what made Ricky's blood freeze in his veins.
It was the sight of Gyuvin.
He was tied to a chair in the center of the warehouse, his head hanging low, his body slumped forward. His usual sunglasses were gone, replaced by a tight blindfold that covered his eyes. His arms were bound tightly to the chair, his legs tied to the legs of the chair, completely immobilized. His breathing was shallow, and his face was pale.