Threads of Destiny: BTS's Eighth Soul Saga

17

The room was a mess, a chaotic jumble of maps, photos, and scribbled notes pinned to the walls. The stalker stood in the center, his eyes wild with fury as he stared at the images of BTS scattered before him. He'd been tracking their every move, meticulously planning for months, but they always seemed to slip through his grasp. His fingers twitched as he grabbed one of the photographs—a candid shot of Y/N standing guard outside BTS’s house, her stance unwavering despite the chaos around her.

"You," he snarled, staring at Y/N's image. "You think you can keep them safe from me?"

He paced the room, muttering to himself, his frustration boiling over. Despite his best efforts to expose BTS and ruin their image, they had somehow managed to slip into hiding, guarded fiercely by Y/N and her Shielded Sentinels Agency. He’d seen her take a blow, shield them from danger, and defend them as if her own life depended on it. And it infuriated him.

He ripped down a map of Seoul from the wall, throwing it aside in frustration. "You think a few bodyguards can keep you hidden forever?" he growled under his breath. "No matter where they tuck you away, I’ll find you."

Just then, his phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. The name "Kim Joon-ki" flashed across it. He clenched his jaw but forced a semblance of a smile as he answered the call, his voice softer, more controlled.

"Joon-ki," the stalker said, almost calmly, "tell me you have something."

Kim Joon-ki’s voice came through, shaky but trying to sound composed. "I’ve been tracking their digital footprint," he said, a hint of tension in his tone. "But they’ve gone dark. Y/N and her agency must have relocated them after the night attacks. There’s no trace of their whereabouts."

The stalker’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the phone, though he kept his voice measured. "Y/N and the Shielded Sentinels," he said, with a touch of disdain. "I’ve seen how she shields them, how far she’ll go to protect them. I underestimated her once. I won’t do it again."

Joon-ki hesitated before speaking, clearly weighing his words. "They’re using top-level security measures. It’s like they’ve completely erased their presence from every system I can access. I’ll need more time to break through their defenses."

The stalker let out a slow breath, forcing his frustration to the side. "I understand, Joon-ki," he said, his tone steady, though laced with warning. "I need your skills now more than ever, so don’t let me down. Just find me a way in, any weakness in their security. We both know that patience can be rewarded."

Joon-ki sounded relieved at the less threatening tone. "I’ll keep digging. I promise I won’t stop until I have something concrete for you."

"Good," the stalker replied, his smile returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Because we both want the same thing, don’t we? To see them finally pay for what they’ve done."

He ended the call, his eyes narrowing at the images on his wall. The hunt was far from over, and he was determined to make Y/N and BTS realize that no amount of protection could keep them safe from him forever.

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The dining table was a lively space, filled with the mouthwatering aroma of Jin and Yoongi's home-cooked meal. Laughter and the clinking of chopsticks echoed through the room, creating a warm atmosphere that temporarily pushed aside the shadows of the outside world. Y/N, surrounded by BTS and John, tried to join in the lighthearted banter, but the pain from her shoulder—where the bullet had struck during the attack—made it difficult. She focused on her food, determined to keep up appearances, but every movement was a reminder of her injury.