blurryines
Jimin and Jungkook have been the top hitmen duo in Seoul since the day they picked up their first revolvers and shot a man without a second look back. But when they cross paths with a skilled hacker by the name of Kim Taehyung, things start to change up a little.
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Jimin eyes the windows lining the third floor of the office building across the street from his rooftop position. Through the lens of his binoculars, he spots three heavy figures moving past the glass panes and that's his cue. Bringing the microphone of the headset closer to his mouth, he turns it on with two fingers. He hears the static before whispering into it.
"Targets located and on the move. Do you read?"
A second later, there's static in his ear again and then Jungkook's low voice.
"Copy that."
Jungkook, young at the age of nineteen but with the cold-cut resolve of men twice his age, is in position inside the building opposite of the one Jimin's currently at. Whereas Jimin's on lookout duty today, Jungkook has the pleasure of being the hitman, which meant he also got to do the fun part.
"They're in the farthest room of the east wing. Seagull, you gotta act fast, associates are on their way." Jimin's voice is urgent in Jungkook's ear and he picks up his pace, pulling his black cap down lower as he does so.
He walks faster, taking care not to make a single noise. Pulling off a stunt inside of an office building meant maneuvering through cramped and narrow hallways and weaving through annoying cubicles. The only positive thing about this setting were the carpeted floors that makes it easier to do this job; he had learned the hard way what happens when you don't take the necessary caution to hide your footsteps. He's got the scar to prove it, too.
Walking fast, he reaches the end of the hallway and leans against the white wall. There's a door to his right, leading into a room where his targets were currently in - three business men who had messed with the wrong drug lord.
A week earlier, Namjoon - their manager of sorts - had been contacted by the drug lord to have him and Jimin "take care of" the three men. The following day, they had been sent a manila envelope containing all possible details of the men including their daily and weekly schedules, their physical profiles, SIN card numbers, visa card numbers, phone numbers - everything they needed to get to this point.
Jungkook takes a second to collect himself. This was going to be easy, they weren't even suspecting him. But he relished these moments; right before seeing his victim's surprised faces, he liked to drink in the adrenaline coursing through his blood, pumping and fueling his excitement.
He loved the thrill of the chase more than anything - wait, no. Scratch that. There was one thing he liked above all else. The satisfying bang of the gunshot and the thud that followed right after. Those sounds were music to his ears.
Listening carefully, he hears the muffled sound of conversation from the other side of the door. Being as quiet as possible, he turns the doorknob slowly, his Cold Mustang XSP held close to his chest with his other hand.
He peeks through the tiny crack and sees them standing in a tight circle, their voices frantic and their conversation fast-paced - they're arguing, he realizes. Their backs were to Jungkook and they didn't even suspect a thing. God, this was almost too easy.
He aims his pistol at the fattest one, right at his left chest. Lesson one on Taking Out Bastards 101: aim for the heart. Leave no room for error.
The pistol is warm in his palm. With one eye closed and the other squinting at his mark, he pulls the trigger.
