The Kim siblings thought they were finally free-free to live, to laugh, to escape the shadows of their past.
A trip abroad was supposed to be a time to unwind, to strengthen their bond after all they had endured. But peace is fleeting, and darkness...
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It had been one week since they vanished from the safehouse. No one knew where they were, no one could track them. That was the point. And now, far away from the eyes that had been watching, the Kim siblings found themselves in the last place anyone would expect—inside Jooyoung's real house.
The air inside was cold, untouched, almost suffocating. Every creak of the floor made them freeze, their hearts racing. But there was no turning back now. They needed answers.
"Stay quiet," Yoongi whispered sharply, his eyes flicking to every corner as if expecting shadows to move.
Hoseok shifted uneasily, his hand brushing the edge of the wall. "This place... it doesn't feel like a house. It feels like a trap."
Jin knelt in front of a locked drawer, tugging at the handle only for it not to budge. "Yeah, well, it wouldn't be him if it was easy." His voice was low, bitter.
YN walked slowly along the shelf, her fingers brushing against the spotless glass décor. Her voice cracked the silence. "Doesn't even look like someone lives here. It's too clean. Too... fake."
Namjoon, who had been near the study table, ran his hand over a stack of files before finding them sealed. His expression hardened. "He lives here. He just doesn't want anyone to see who he really is."
From upstairs, Jimin's voice carried down in a hushed whisper. "Hyung, all the doors are locked up here!"
"Check every single one," Jungkook's voice answered, footsteps thudding faintly above. "There has to be something."
The sound of drawers opening and closing filled the house, each creak louder in the silence. Jin pulled harder at the one in front of him until the handle almost broke off. Hoseok moved toward another cabinet, yanking it open to reveal nothing but neatly stacked files—too neat, too ordinary.
"This is useless," Hoseok muttered, slamming it shut. "It's all fake. Just for show."
"No," Yoongi said, crouching near the desk. His hands were quick, precise, going through papers, sliding open compartments. "He wouldn't waste this much space on nothing. There's something here—we just haven't touched the right place yet."
YN joined Namjoon by the shelves, pulling out a thick black binder. Dust flew, making her cough, but when she flipped it open, her face paled. It wasn't a binder at all—it was empty, just a hollow shell. "Oppa... this isn't real. It's just... cover."
Namjoon took it from her, his jaw tightening. "He's hiding something. Close."
Just then, Jungkook and Jimin hurried down the stairs. Jimin's expression was tight, his voice strained. "Hyung... every room upstairs is locked. Like someone doesn't want us inside."
"And downstairs isn't much better," Jungkook added, looking frustrated. "Every drawer is either empty or filled with nonsense."
Yoongi didn't answer immediately. His eyes caught on something—an old wooden chest tucked under the study table, almost blending in with the floor. Slowly, carefully, he dragged it out. The metal lock clicked faintly as he tapped it with his finger.
