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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The knife never scared me; it was the silence before it fell.
C
hapter 45: The Condition
This was not what Jungkook had planned. Not at all.
Everything was supposed to be calculated—every move, every risk, every possible outcome. He knew eyes were watching him, knew someone had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike. That was why he turned himself into bait—to make them think he was oblivious, unguarded. The plan had worked… until the bullet meant for him found Taehyung instead.
Now, as Jungkook sat in the sterile hallway of the hospital’s emergency unit, the sound of hurried footsteps and beeping machines filled the space around him. His hands were clasped tightly together, the faint scent of gunpowder and blood still clinging to his sleeves. He stared blankly at the floor tiles, his jaw locked, as guilt gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.
“Oi, Jungkook!”
The familiar voice broke through the static in his head. Jin came rushing down the hall, his coat flaring behind him, worry written all over his face. “I just heard what happened—what the hell is going on? Is it true that Taehyung got shot?!”
Jungkook didn’t answer immediately. His throat tightened as he looked up at Jin, eyes heavy and cold.
Jin’s expression faltered. “God, Jungkook…” he whispered, sinking into the chair beside him. “How did this happen?”
Jungkook exhaled harshly through his nose, raking his hand through his hair.
“The plan was to draw them out,” he muttered, voice low, controlled but trembling. “I knew they were watching me. I wanted them to think I was careless enough to be caught off guard.” He paused, clenching his fists. “But I didn’t expect—” He cut himself off, jaw tightening even more. “I didn’t expect Taehyung to get hurt.”
Jin’s gaze softened. “You couldn’t have known.”
“But it’s still my fault.” The words came out like venom. “If I hadn’t dragged him into this—”
Before Jin could reply, the door to the emergency unit opened. A doctor in a white coat stepped out, flipping through a chart in his hands. His expression was calm, professional, but not grim—which gave Jungkook the slightest bit of air to breathe.
“Mr. Jeon?” the doctor asked, glancing up.
Jungkook immediately stood up, his heart thundering in his chest. “Yes. How’s Taehyung? Is he—Is he going to be okay?”
The doctor gave a small nod before speaking in a steady, measured tone.
“Your companion sustained a gunshot wound to the left leg. Fortunately, the bullet did not cause any major vascular or bone damage. It passed through soft tissue, which makes the prognosis much better.”
