Namjoon had always been determined to serve justice and uphold law - but when he's assigned to catch the notorious gangster Jungkook, he knew his principles would be put to test.
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"I put an end to this—now hand Iseul over." Jungkook's voice was like ice splintering through the tension, its malevolence cutting deeper with every syllable. A sinister chill laced his words, and the weight of his command seemed to draw the air from the room.
"You think you're in control?" The Boss hissed, stepping forward with slow, deliberate menace. The anger in his voice was venomous, yet it was threaded with a subtle undercurrent of disbelief—a chink in his armor. Malicious intent dripped from his every word, the threat tangible, as though it could crush Jungkook where he stood.
But Jungkook didn't waver. He stood tall, fire blazing behind his dark eyes—a lone ember refusing to be extinguished in the face of the storm. The weight of everything he had endured, everything he had lost, solidified into a quiet, immovable strength.
"I don't think," Jungkook began, his tone steady, unwavering. "I know. I'll decide what happens today—with or without you."
For a moment, silence followed his declaration, heavy and oppressive. Then, the sound of slow, deliberate applause shattered the quiet. The Boss clapped, the sound almost mocking, a sinister echo in the tense space between them. His lips curled into a grin, but his eyes burned with something far more dangerous than amusement.
"Then prove it," the Boss said, his voice a venomous purr as he gestured toward the gun in Jungkook's trembling hands. "Shoot him again."
Jungkook's fingers trembled around the gun, nails digging into his palms, knuckles straining white. The memories flooded in; nights spent sharing teasing and laughter, fingers intertwined as they wondered about the life they had always wanted to outrun.
He felt a sharp pang of anguish in his chest, but he forced himself to breathe. To focus. "I need to know my child is alright," he said, his voice rising with defiance, each word like a blade slicing through the Boss's taunts. "Did you hear me, or is that mask of yours too thick? I can flip it off just fine."
Jungkook took a deliberate step forward, his jaw clenched tight, and raised a hand to tap scornfully at the grotesque bunny mask tilted mockingly toward him. The hollow, coal-black eyes behind it seemed to darken further, consuming all light, but Jungkook refused to look away. For in their depths, he saw the reflection of his own face, hollowed but unbroken—a man desperate, furious, and ready to do whatever it took to end this torture.
"D-daddy?" The sweetest voice sliced through the nightmare, oiling the gears of rage within him, softening the edges of chaos.
Jungkook's world shifted, the chaos momentarily stilled as he whipped his head toward the sound. There she was—Iseul. His little girl stood framed in the doorway, her presence brought into the room by a subordinate who seemed entirely unfazed by the weight of her innocence.
