My Professor Agent

chapter 36

D-1 | 24 Hours Remaining

The last meal

Next Day.

Morning arrived without sunlight.
Not because the sun didn’t rise—but because no one inside Taehyung’s apartment was looking at it.

The team moved in near silence.

No unnecessary footsteps.
No casual talk.
No wasted motion.

Equipment cases were opened and closed with practiced hands. Guns were checked, wiped clean, then hidden again beneath floor panels and false compartments. Earpieces were tested once—only once—then powered down to avoid traces. Laptops hummed softly, screens glowing with maps, security layouts, timelines, and faces frozen in surveillance stills.

Emergency protocols were reviewed without discussion. Everyone already knew them.

Jackson stood near the window, memorizing evacuation routes for the third time—not because he forgot, but because tomorrow forgetting meant dying. He traced paths in his head: stairwells, service corridors, blind corners, backup exits that didn’t exist on official blueprints.

SeoJun had already left.

By mid-morning, he took his position near the venue under a civilian identity, blending in as just another man with a phone and coffee, eyes scanning reflections instead of faces.

Eunwoo sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by wires and drives, fingers moving fast and precise as he prepared live backup servers. If the primary system went down tomorrow, the second would activate in less than a second. If that failed, the third would still be breathing.

Kai attended the pre-event meeting under a forged clearance, listening more than speaking, noting who hesitated, who avoided eye contact, who spoke too confidently.

Back at the apartment, Taehyung gathered them briefly.

The final instructions—clear, sharp, unavoidable.

Tomorrow was the last day.

Tomorrow wasn’t an operation.

It was a line being crossed.

Everyone understood the risk.

No one asked to back out.

On the Other Side

Song’s voice was calm over the encrypted call—too calm.

Minjae listened in silence, jaw tight, fingers tapping against the desk.

“The donors are secured,” Song said. “Security will be heavy, but predictable.”

Minjae exhaled. “And the loose ends?”

“Being handled.”

A pause.

“Yeonjun and Soobin?” Minjae asked.
Song’s smile could be heard, even through the phone.

“They’re eager. Tomorrow will make them useful—or disposable.”

The call ended without goodbyes.

Elsewhere, Yeonjun and Soobin prepared for the event, checking suits,guns, knife hidden, rehearsing cover stories, unaware—or perhaps pretending not to be aware—that they were standing on the edge of something far bigger than ambition.

Song’s orders came shortly after.

Clear. Cold. Final.

Back at Taehyung’s Apartment.

The apartment smelled like food instead of fear.

It was strange—but intentional.
In the kitchen, Jungkook stood at the stove, sleeves rolled up, focus sharp as he stirred a pot that was probably too big for the number of people it was meant to feed.