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Even if he'd wanted to assess the situation, Seokjin's hold on Minjun was secure enough to keep his face enduringly hidden underneath his arm. He could feel the elder shaking beneath him, and that presented enough information about the commotion.
A chorale of gunshots made his ears buzz, grinding them on Seokjin's sweatshirt for any type of relief.
The situation, mind you, was as bad as it sounded.
A group of four assassins had stormed the dining room, clad in black, heavy-duty uniforms with blood-curdling weapons in each hand. They didn't make it very far. The biggest of the quartet managed to push a blade through Jimin's shoulder, however, the young gang member gave his best performance in twirling round and shooting the man from below his jaw.
Another two were butchered almost immediately by the individual bullet that Namjoon delivered upon their entry, fearful for the sanctuary of his gang members.
The last one, a tall, athletic woman, pursued close to Seokjin. His defenceless vulnerability was a target for the assassin, him and the fragile boy on his lap.
Fortuitously, three gang members kept their sights on the two at all times, and her head was obliterated in a firework of blood and brains almost instantly.
Surprised at the weak downfall, Mamamoo eventually began their turn. It started with a bullet from Hwasa's gun, scraping the collar of Jungkook's dress shirt. His eyes dimmed and he smiled a sickly grin, lifting his pistol.
The short woman's courageous face wavered, having no backup as the three other ladies were shooting away at the rest of the — uninjured — males. She was responsive to lift her firearm, ready to beat the man to it, but her actions were cut off by a brisk, searing pain through her thigh.
Hunks of meat tore away from her leg as the bullet wracked through it, blood already jetting out and oozing down her leg in severely large amounts. She fell, her behind smacking against the dining room floor as she cringed and yelled, holding the gun up once again.
Jungkook's watch never left Hwasa, seeing her anguished yet determined eyes narrowing on him.
Only the upper half of her head was available to view from her seat under the table, so that's where Jungkook directed his pistol, wasting no time in blowing a hole between her eyes and sending her head sailing backwards.
Six against three.
The knife in Jimin's shoulder tousled as he evaded the fire from Wheein's handgun but continued persevering onwards. As the official weapons supplier for BTS, it was inconceivable that the boy would only be armed with a gun at any time.
Momentarily, his hand sank into the pockets of his coat, and when they pulled out he held a few six-edged shurikens, toying with them and spinning them over his fingers. Another bullet came tearing in his direction, but the gunman was more alive and he ducked at the sound.
