Anger never builds; it only tears down. In the heat of a single moment, it can feel like strength, an armor to hide behind. But when the fire fades, all that's left are the ashes of what once mattered. Anger doesn't solve anything-it devours patienc...
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A diamond is just a piece of coal that did well under pressure.
Chapter 05: Police
Taehyung pushed open the heavy glass doors of the police station. His steps felt heavy, but his resolve carried him forward. This place, he told himself, was where answers lived. This was where justice was supposed to begin.
Inside, the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, glaring down on stacks of paperwork and weary officers sipping cheap coffee. Taehyung clutched the strap of his bag, his palms damp with sweat. He tried to steady his breath, tried to force strength into his trembling body.
He was directed to a small office where two detectives sat. The older one, with graying hair and half-moon glasses, flipped through a thin file. The younger officer leaned back in his chair, chewing gum lazily.
“So, Kim Taehyung,” the older one began, adjusting his glasses. “You wanted an update about your mother’s case?”
Taehyung nodded, his throat tight. “Yes. I need to know what you’ve found.”
The older detective sighed, tapping the file. “I’m afraid… not much. Your mother, Kyushu—she kept to herself, didn’t she? Neighbors didn’t know her well. She wasn’t involved in community events. There are no leads, no witnesses, nothing left at the scene except her phone. Whoever did this was careful.”
Taehyung’s hands curled into fists. Careful? That wasn’t good enough. His mother wasn’t just “nothing.” She was everything.
“You mean… you still don’t know anything?” His voice cracked, carrying both disbelief and fury.
The younger officer shrugged. “We’ll keep looking, but cases like this—sometimes they just fade. No motive, no connections. Random violence, maybe.”
Taehyung’s chest burned. Random? His mother didn’t die randomly. She had whispered a name with her last breath. He leaned forward, desperation lacing his words.
“She said a name before she died. Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. The CEO. Investigate him. He has to be involved.”
At that, the two officers exchanged a glance—and then the younger one chuckled, shaking his head.
“Jeon Jungkook? That Jungkook? The richest young CEO in the country?” He snorted. “Kid, do you realize what you’re saying? You think a man like him is sneaking around neighborhoods, shooting nannies in the head?”
The older detective sighed, rubbing his temples. “Look, I understand you’re grieving, but don’t let your emotions blind you. Maybe you resent him? Jealous of his wealth, his status? It’s not unusual. People project their pain onto easy targets.”
Taehyung froze, their words cutting deeper than any knife. Jealous? Resentful? As if his pain was nothing more than envy. His lips trembled, but anger pushed through the grief.
“I’m not jealous!” he snapped, his voice loud enough to turn heads outside the office. “I don’t care about his money or his fame! I care about the fact that my mother is dead, and the only thing she managed to say before she left me forever was his name! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
The younger officer leaned forward, smirking faintly. “It sounds more like hate than evidence, kid. Hate doesn’t hold up in court.”
The older detective closed the file with a dull thud. “We’ll keep the case open. If anything comes up, we’ll contact you. For now… go home. Rest. You need time to heal.”
Taehyung’s nails dug into his palms so hard they nearly broke the skin. Rest? How could he rest when his mother’s murderer walked free? When the police dismissed him like a child making up stories?
He stood abruptly, his chair screeching across the floor. His eyes were burning, his jaw locked tight.
“Forget it,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “If you won’t take her seriously, then I will.”
Without waiting for a reply, Taehyung stormed out of the station. The laughter of the younger officer followed him out into the night, stinging worse than the cold wind that met him at the door.
On the street, he stopped, sucking in the bitter air. His chest heaved, his grief pulsing hot with anger.
If the police refused to see Jungkook as a suspect, then he would. If the world refused to give him justice, then he would carve it out with his own hands.
He thought of his mother’s gentle smile, the warmth of her voice, and the way she always put him first, no matter what. And he thought of the way her lifeless body fell, phone still in her hand.
Justice wasn’t just something he wanted—it was something he owed her.
And if that meant going against Jeon Jungkook, the golden boy of the nation, then so be it.
“Jungkook, your parents would be proud of you if you showed up at their graves with your wife. Isn't─”
“Enough.” His voice cut through the room like a blade. He stood, fixing Mr. Han with a glare that stripped away all warmth. “If you came here to talk about marriage, then you’re wasting my time. This company runs on work, not gossip. Don’t mistake me for a pawn you can bargain into your family.”
The smugness slipped from Mr. Han’s face, replaced by an uncomfortable stiffness. For a long second, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the city outside.
Finally, Jungkook exhaled, dragging his gaze away, suddenly exhausted. “Now leave. I have real matters to deal with.”
Mr. Han hesitated, then gave a forced smile before bowing slightly and retreating out of the office. The door clicked shut behind him.
As the silence returned, Jungkook sank back into his chair. His chest still burned with irritation, but beneath it all was the same gnawing emptiness—the unanswered question of where Kyushu was and why she had disappeared so suddenly.
“Don’t tell me he tried to push his daughter on you again?” Jin asked, his tone laced with exasperation as the two of them walked side by side toward the company cafeteria.
“What else would be his reason for barging into my office?” Jungkook muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His patience with Mr. Han had long worn thin, yet the man never seemed to get the hint.
Jin chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Well, you shouldn’t stress yourself too much. You’ve got that opening speech and the big interview tomorrow, remember?”
“You don’t have to remind—” Jungkook began, only to be cut off mid-sentence when someone collided into him with enough force to make him take a step back.
The sharp scent of cologne lingered in the air as Jungkook’s gaze flicked to the man in a gray coat. “I’m sorry,” the stranger said flatly, voice void of any real remorse. It sounded more like a formality than an apology.
Jin’s face twisted into a scowl. “What a rude man. Doesn’t he realize how massive this hall is? And yet he somehow managed to bump into you?” His eyes followed the stranger’s retreating figure.
But Jungkook didn’t answer right away. He was still watching, a faint crease forming on his brow. Something about the man’s tone, the dismissive way he kept walking without even turning back, gnawed at him.
Meanwhile, Taehyung rolled his eyes the moment he heard the other man’s defensive comment. Typical—always someone rushing to protect Jeon Jungkook, as if the world revolved around him. His lips pressed into a thin line as he straightened his coat, never once slowing his stride. He hadn’t bumped into Jungkook by accident. He wanted him to notice, even if just for a second.
For Jungkook, it was a fleeting encounter—annoying, but nothing worth dwelling on. For Taehyung, it was another move in the game he had already started.
