In the Scene of an unforgiving underworld, Jeon Jungkook reigns as a ruthless kingpin popularly known as Shadow. Feared by all, his cruelty knows no bounds, his heart frozen to the world. Happiness, compassion, and love-none exist in his dark kingdo...
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The rain slashed through the night like blades, turning the streets of the city into a battlefield. Neon signs hummed in the distance against the roar of the stormy night, casting the crumbling buildings in violent hues of red and blue. This was a city that fed off its own rot, where survival was more of a privilege paid for with blood. And at the top of this rotting kingdom stood Jeon Jungkook.
He was a legend. He was a nightmare. His name was a death sentence whispered in the darkest corners of the underworld, where the umbilical cord of fear entwines with power. Jungkook was unmatched, unbeatable. His enemies were crushed before they even got the chance to carve a thought of rebellion. He operated the city through a cold fist, bereft of feeling. He thrived on fear, but there was something about him that was hollow, an untouchable kingpin. Mercy had never crossed his mind, nor happiness. A lie people told themselves before they died.
Tonight he sat alone in his lair beneath the city, hidden from the prying eyes of the world. The room was a dungeon of stone and steel, biting at his skin cold as glass. Lying before him was a map of the city, territories marked: his empire. Each square inch of this godforsaken place belonged to him, bought in blood and kept through violence. And still Jungkook's eyes would light upon one spot-a little insignificant dot on the map. The orphanage.
He clamped his jaw, fists cracking his knuckles as they locked into tight fists. All business it was, he reminded himself. The orphanage, after all, was simply a board move, just another piece. But it nagged at him like nothing ever had.
Namjoon stood silently in the doorway, waiting for orders. He had learned a long time ago not to interrupt Jungkook when he was like this-tense, calculating. But something had shifted in the air, a brewing storm.
"The shipment?" Jungkook asked without looking up, his voice like a knife slicing through the silence.
Namjoon stepped forward, his expression grim. "Delayed. Someone's making moves, testing us."
Jungkook's lip curled in a sneer. "Who?"
Namjoon hesitated. "We are still gathering intel, but it seems like they are targeting the orphanage."
Jungkook's blood ran cold. A flare of something unrecognizable, dangerous flashed through him-panic. But it was temporary, beaten down by an oncoming tide of rage. The orphanage had become more than just a financial asset. And Jimin.
Jungkook thumped his fist down on the table, making it boom through the room like a sound effect from a shooting match. Namjoon twitched but didn't budge.
"They want a war?" Jungkook growled, his voice low, venomous. "I'll give them one. Burn them all."
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The orphanage was nothing. Just one of the thousands of enterprises he owned, a debt that had to be collected. His intimidators were there to collect-a straightforward deal. Yet, Jungkook had always believed in one thing above all: weakness held no space in his empire. Debts were paid in full, or blood would be spilled in their stead.
