Everyone was in position, poised to carry out their part in the predawn stillness. Dressed entirely in black, they hid in vans for the moment, their faces obscured by masks and hats.

The van parked outside Woosung’s company was stationed in a CCTV blind spot, its interior illuminated by faint glimmers of light from the dashboard. Outside, the city seemed eerily still, even though it was a usually busy area.

Jungkook sat in the back, his posture rigid. Taehyung was beside him, his jaw tight and his restless energy barely contained. Both men’s gazes were locked on Jimin, who was crouched over his laptop across from them.

“Jimin, how much longer?” Taehyung finally asked, his tone sharp with the struggle of waiting.

“Almost there,” Jimin replied without looking up, the glow of the screen gleaming on his face. His fingers danced over the keyboard with quick dexterity, his brows creased in concentration.

In the far corner of the van, two other men sat in silence. One adjusted his gloves, while the other inspected the contents of his large backpack. Inside were explosives — powerful enough to tear down the company, yet calibrated to ensure surrounding buildings remained untouched.

The air was thick with tension — only the soft rhythm of shallow breaths and the relentless clicking of Jimin’s keyboard broke the oppressive silence. Hoseok sat beside Jimin, shifting uneasily, as he glanced toward the laptop every few seconds.

A gruff sigh flew out of Jungkook’s mouth, his patience thinning. “Nothing yet? How much—”

“I’m getting there,” Jimin cut him off, his tone biting. “I’ve got this.”

Moments later, the laptop let out a soft beep, and Jimin sat bolt upright, a triumphant smile sweeping across his face. “Done. I’ve got access to the CCTV.”

“Finally,” Taehyung muttered, a sigh of relief mixed with impatience leaking from him with the single word. 

Jimin’s fingers worked quickly to cycle through the cameras. The footage flickered on the screen, showing various empty hallways and darkened rooms. His eyes narrowed as he clicked onto the feed from the tenth floor, then expanded with worry. 

“What is it?” Jungkook asked, picking up on the shift in Jimin’s expression.

“There are people on the tenth floor.”

“What?” Haejun asked, the backpack between his legs now long forgotten as the unexpected presence of employees seemed like it would only hinder them. 

Taehyung shut his eyes in frustration, his chest dropping flat with a long exhalation. “I forgot about that.”

“Why the hell are people sleeping there?” the man in the passenger seat asked, turning around to look at them. 

“That’s not important,” Hoseok snapped, his voice tight with urgency. “What do we do?”

“We need to get them out of there,” Jungkook said in a low tone that betrayed his frustration. 

“That’ll take too much time,” Haejun argued, zipping his bag in a hurry as if to move on. 

“Yah!” Taehyung growled, leaning forward to pin Haejun with a rowdy stare. “Either we bring them out of there or we leave. I’m not killing innocent people.”

Haejun’s movements slowed to a stop as the gravity of Taehyung’s words settled in the confined space. Jungkook was quick to handle the matter, acting as the great leader he was. 

“Taehyung’s right,” Jungkook said, then laid his gaze on Jimin. “How many people are there?”

Jimin swiftly examined the live feed of the office lounge. “Six.”

“Okay. I’ll bring them out with Hoseok.” Jungkook exchanged a nod with Hoseok and tapped on his earpiece. “Minseok-ssi?”

“What is it?” Minseok’s voice sounded in his ear, calm and poised. 

“We need an extra van. We have six people in the company. Tell the driver to get into the underground parking lot.”

“I’m sending one right now,” Minseok said. 

“Okay.” Jungkook tapped on his earpiece again and glanced at Hoseok. “We’ll put the employees in the van until our job here is done. Then we’ll release them, okay?” 

Hoseok nodded, determined. “Yes.”

“As we take care of that,” Jungkook continued, his gaze drifting to the other men around him, “Taehyung and Suyeon will go to Woosung’s office. Haejun will come with us and hide until we get the employees to the elevator. Then he’ll start placing the explosives. The rest of you know what you have to do, right?”

A row of quiet affirmations buzzed in the van, along with the increasing anticipation that hung around them like a fog. 

“Wait,” Jimin called out. “You know there’s a guard in the parking lot, right?”

“Yes. Can you control the roller door?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I’ll go take care of the guard and I’ll tell you when it’s clear to bring the van in, okay?”

As Jungkook received nods from everyone, he slid the van door open and stepped out into the chill of the predawn air. He stood at the corner of the building for a beat, then tapped on his earpiece. “Deactivate the security system.”

Jimin’s fingers flew across the keyboard, typing rapidly until he paused his hand over the enter key. “Ready.”

“Do it.” 

The instant Jimin hit enter, Jungkook sprinted down the side of the building, knowing the disabled CCTV would catch the guard’s attention. He continued running down the slope of the underground parking lot and halted upon reaching it, hiding in the corner. “Open the door.”

The low mechanical grind of the roller door echoed in the space, and he scoped the surrounding area with a quick, expert eye for any onlookers. Finding nothing, he focused on the parking lot, waiting for a sign of the guard. 

“What the hell?” 

Jungkook pressed his back harder against the wall at the guard’s murmur, setting a hand on his holstered gun. A tapping sound reached his senses next, figuring the guard was trying to manually close the door with the button. 

At the next grunt the guard released, Jungkook leaped out of his hiding spot and aimed his weapon at him, then pressed the barrel against the side of his head. “Don’t make a sound,” Jungkook warned lowly, fishing a roll of duct tape from his pocket. “Cover your mouth.”

The guard stood unmoving, his face a mask of shock, his whole body trembling. “Please don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.”

“Then put the damn tape over your mouth,” Jungkook snarled, shoving his weapon against the guard’s head harder. 

The guard whimpered, his shaking hands fumbling with the tape as he tore a strip and pressed it over his mouth. 

“All clear,” Jungkook spoke into the earpiece. The two stood there for only a few seconds before the van rumbled down the slope into the parking lot and stopped beside them. 

Kihan jumped out of the van with a zip tie in his hold and laced it around the guard’s wrists. “Why do you have a gun? We said no guns.”

Jungkook scoffed, sliding his weapon back into its holster. “How am I supposed to shut them up?” 

The roar of another van resounded through the spacious parking lot as it entered. The driver rolled down his window, his eyes barely visible between his mask and hat. “Where do you want me?”

“Near the elevator,” Jungkook said. “Kihan, put the guard in the empty van. Jimin, close the roller door. Everyone get ready to go inside.” 

After his instructions, Jungkook climbed into the vehicle, and both vans drove closer to the elevator.

The attacks had already started to unfold in the other businesses, too. At the two casinos and the club, their teams struck during closing time, ensuring minimal resistance. The few employees that were left behind were quickly subdued, allowing the explosives to be planted without unnecessary delays. 

Meanwhile, Minseok sat calmly with his team in the van parked close to Woosung’s house, listening to the updates pouring in through his earpiece. The occasional glance at his watch was the only indication of his impatience, though his composed demeanor projected none of the tension crackling beneath the surface.

“Casino team, status?” Minseok asked, his voice mild but firm.

“Explosives are set at both locations,” came the steady reply from one of his men. “We’re clear and awaiting your signal.”

“Good. And the club?”

“Same. We’re out and secure.”

Minseok nodded to himself, a small, satisfied smile pulling on the corner of his lips. Everything seemed to be going as planned, the taste of victory already brushing against his senses.

Back at Woosung’s office, Taehyung and Suyeon bustled around; they took every hard drive or USB they could find and rifled through drawers in search of something useful. 

Jungkook and Hoseok escorted the six employees to the parking lot and instructed them to get into the van. They complied without protest, some of them still groggy and disoriented, others wide-eyed with fear, despite Jungkook’s reassurance that they wouldn’t hurt them. 

Haejun was on the third floor, crouched by a corner as he carefully set another explosive. The beeping signaling its activation blended into the background noise, a chilling reminder of what was to come.

“All explosives set on this floor,” Haejun reported.

“Good,” Jungkook responded. “Taehyung, Suyeon, are you done?”

“Just now,” Taehyung said. “We’re coming down.”

At the parking lot, Hoseok kept a close watch over the employees. They sat huddled in the van, their expressions a mixture of fear and confusion. 

Minseok’s voice broke through Jungkook’s earpiece again. “Jungkook, how’s it going?”

“Nearly done. We’re waiting for Haejun. We’ll be out in five.”

Minseok’s smile grew sharper, a predator waiting to strike. “Good. Once you’re clear, we’ll proceed with Woosung. Time to finish this.”

The operation was nearing its climax. The synchronized attacks, the well-laid plans, the expertness of every move — all of it pointed to an inevitable conclusion. Victory seemed within their grasp, but the air was fraught with tension.

Jungkook tapped his earpiece as Haejun emerged from the elevator. “We’re ready.”

“Good,” Minseok said. “The vans with the employees should go to their appointed spot. I’ll tell you when it’s safe to release them. The rest of you, stay nearby. We need eyes on the explosions to confirm they go off without a problem.”

Everyone sprang into action; they hustled to get into the vans and sped away to their assigned position. 

Jungkook’s group parked at a safe distance, ensuring they had a clear view of the towering building. One by one, they stepped out of the van, their eyes fixed on the structure, anticipation blending with grim curiosity.

But Jungkook and Taehyung remained inside. The two sat close together, the side of their heads united in a tender touch, arms looped around one another. They couldn’t bring themselves to watch.

That building wasn’t just a target — it was a place where they had spent so much time in. They had created memories they still cherished. They had left pieces of themselves in it. The thought of watching it be reduced to ruins was unbearable. 

They understood the necessity of their actions, no matter how extreme they were. Yet, the load of their choice burdened their hearts, filling the silence between them with a shared melancholy that words couldn’t express.

As Haejun started the countdown, the two pulled their earpieces out and closed their eyes. They flinched at the first booming noise that reached their ears and held each other tighter, hoping it would end soon. 

Outside, the night erupted into chaos. A series of explosions rippled through the building, shattering glass and sending plumes of smoke billowing into the sky. The force of the blasts shook the ground beneath them, the roaring sound carrying far through the air like a monstrous growl.

Haejun’s eyes remained set on the building as it crumbled, its ruins spreading all around the empty streets. “It’s done.” 

“Good,” Minseok said. “Now, get out of there. Seokjin, tell the employee to call Woosung.”

“Okay,” Seokjin responded, already holding the manager’s phone in his hand.

It was just minutes later when Minseok spotted Woosung bursting out of his house in a panic. “Woosung just left,” Minseok said, watching his car disappear down the darkened street. He turned to his team, his sharp gaze landing on Namjoon and Sijun. “You two know what to do. Take care of the guards.”

Sijun nodded, slipping two smoke grenades in his vest’s pockets. Namjoon checked his gear one last time before both stepped out of the van. 

“Yoongi, how’s it going?” Minseok asked as he glanced to his side, checking Yoongi’s process of stealing Woosung’s money from his bank account. 

“I definitely need another hour,” Yoongi said without losing focus from his laptop. “But I’ve got it.”

Sijun and Namjoon moved swiftly and silently, using the predawn darkness to their advantage as they approached Woosung’s sprawling property.

“Two guards at the main gate,” Namjoon whispered, peeking around a corner. “They’re armed.”

“That’s why we have the smoke grenades,” Sinju whispered back, as he reached into his pocket. He tossed the grenade toward the guards, the canister rolling to a stop near their feet. A hissing sound filled the air as thick gray smoke began to pour out, obscuring their vision.

Both guards reached for their weapons, but before they could react, Namjoon and Sijun were upon them. Quick strikes left them unconscious, their bodies lowered gently to the ground to minimize the impact. 

“Gate’s clear,” Namjoon reported into his earpiece.

“Good job,” Minseok said. “Let’s go closer.”

The driver turned on the engine, driving the van closer to the gate within moments. Minseok jumped out with a large duffel bag in one hand, his gun securely holstered at his side. Namjoon and Sijun helped Minseok climb over the gate, and soon his boots slammed onto the marble pathway leading to the entrance. 

As one of his men started placing explosives around the house, Minseok reached the front door and retrieved the key Taehyung had provided. Popping it into the lock, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. 

So far, so good.

Minseok made his way to the alarm panel by the door and punched in the security code. The sound it gave off was wrong. The system didn’t deactivate. Instead, the alarm began to emit a sharper, more urgent beeping, signaling a countdown.

“Shit,” Minseok sighed. “The code isn’t working.” 

“What?” Taehyung’s anxious voice crackled in his ear. “You put 5492, right?”

Minseok quickly tapped the code in again, but the result was the same. “Fuck, it’s not right. Yoongi, can you override it?”

“I’m busy draining Woosung’s accounts,” Yoongi said, his fingers working over the keyboard. “I can’t stop now.”

“What about Jimin—”

“You don’t have time,” Taehyung interjected Minseok’s words, a restless hue making his voice breathless. “Get the cash. You have—”

“No, get out,” Jungkook jumped in the conversation. “We’ll blow up the house, anyway. Let the cash burn.”

An animal groan burst from Minseok’s throat as he pounded his fist into the wall. “Fuck it,” he murmured, dashing across the living room. “Taehyung, what did you want to say?”

“That you have about thirty seconds before the alarm goes off, but now you have... fifteen.” 

“Fuck,” Minseok grunted. He reached the heavy double doors of Woosung’s office, shoving them open with a forceful kick. He dropped to his knees, yanking aside the rug and dislodged the wooden plank. A secret opening was revealed that held stacks of neatly packed cash inside. 

A glint sparked in his eyes at the sight, despite the stressful situation. 

Minseok started stuffing his bag with as much cash as it could hold, his movements frantic, his face twisted in a frown. 

“Minseok-ssi, leave!” Jungkook’s voice came again, pleading. “He’ll come back for sure.”

The alarm blared seconds later, its shrill sound cutting through the silence of the house. Minseok flinched, but kept working, his hands shoving stacks of cash into the duffel bag. 

“There’s so much money here,” Minseok murmured, breathless. 

“Sir,” one man stationed outside said. “Woosung’s car just entered the driveway.”

Minseok froze for a moment, his strained breaths bouncing around the office. “What? How the hell did he get here so fast?” 

“He must’ve been already heading back.”

In the van, Jungkook’s body tensed as he heard the report. “We’re on our way.” 

“No,” Minseok snapped, continuing to load the duffel bag with cash. “Don’t come. Woosung can’t see you two. He’ll know you had something to do with this.”

“He will kill you!” Jungkook’s voice rose in volume, sharp and urgent. “We have to help you.”

Minseok paused just long enough to bark into the earpiece. “Jungkook. That’s a fucking order. Don’t come here.”

The line went quiet as Minseok resumed his work, a fierce energy braising in the air. Jungkook closed his eyes, choking a series of curses down. 

“We hid the van,” Namjoon reported through the earpiece. “Woosung just opened the gate.”

There seemed to be no end to the stacks of cash, but Minseok had run out of time before he knew it. Footsteps thundered outside of the office, hasty and menacing. Minseok zipped the bag and hurried to get behind the desk, dropping the bag beside him and drawing out his gun. 

Woosung stormed into the office like a bullet crashing through a window, his gun already leveled in front of him. His wild eyes expanded with rage as he located Minseok standing behind the desk with his gun pointed at him, his breath turning thin. 

“You... You fucking trash,” Woosung roared, his extended arm shaking by the consuming tension gripping at his muscles. “Where’s my money?”

“Calm down, Woosung-ah,” Minseok said, his deep voice unruffled despite the enraged threat standing across from him. “How about you lower your gun so we can talk, hmm?” 

“Talk?” Minseok barked, the cords in his neck bulging. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Lower your gun, Kim Woosung.” Minseok’s expert eye caught the increase of Woosung’s shaking and the level of madness that conquered him. 

In a split second, Woosung fired. 

Three consecutive gunshots boomed through the room just as Minseok dove to the ground. He hissed between his panting at the stinging pain in his ear, blood trickling down his neck. The first bullet had grazed him. 

Disregarding any pain, Minseok adjusted his aim from behind the desk, pointing his gun at Woosung’s leg. “I’m aiming right at your thigh. Drop the fucking gun if you don’t want me to cripple you.”

“Bullshit,” Woosung spat out, his jaw locked tight, as he stepped forward. A gunshot stuttered him into complete stillness, the aim just in front of his shoes. 

“I’m not fucking joking,” Minseok said, a twinge of frustration vibrating through his body that affected his usually calm voice. “Either drop your gun or leave. The house is filled with explosives. With my word, it’ll blow up.”

Woosung’s grip on his weapon tightened. “If I’m going to die, I’ll take you with me.”

“But I’m not trying to kill you, Woosung-ah. That’s why I wanted you out of here.”

“So it’s not true that you destroyed every single one of my businesses?”

“Oh, it is true,” Minseok said with a dry chuckle. “Trust me. All that’s left now is this house. So if you don’t want to die, leave. Now.”

Woosung’s crushing hold on the gun didn’t waver as a flutter of exhaustion cascaded down his form, tangled with remaining fury. “Why the fuck are you doing this so suddenly?”

“Suddenly?” Minseok echoed, disdain oozing out of his tone. “I think you’re forgetting about all the times you put your men to attack my businesses because I had more earnings than you. After you killed Jaesuk, you lost the ball. You didn’t know how to handle your businesses and make more money. You destroyed yourself slowly. And I’m here now to give you the final blow.”

Woosung took in Minseok’s explanation with a bitter huff, his gaze fixed on the desk, waiting for any sign of Minseok exposing himself. “I knew it. It was weird that you didn’t attack me back. You were planning all this, waiting for the moment to strike.”

Minseok smirked, suppressing a snort as his plan on making Woosung think it was all him was entirely successful. “Exactly.”

A long, guttural laugh flowed through the room, a devilish sort of sound that soured Minseok’s smirk and injected confusion into the lines marking his face. 

“It’s all you, huh?” Woosung questioned, then erupted into another round of wicked chuckles. As if a magical button was pressed, Woosung’s face wore a dour expression that glinted with pure hatred. “You think I don’t know Jungkook has been working for you for the past five years?”

The statement struck Minseok like a punch to the gut. His confidence faltered, his eyes rolling in a circle of thought. “Shit,” he murmured, disappointment clawing at his throat. “How did you find out?”

“I put my men to look into what Jungkook was doing the past five years. I’m not stupid, you know. Jungkook is behind this. And I’m sure Taehyung is the one who encouraged him to do all this. Where the fuck are they?”

“Why? So you can kill them?”

“Yes,” Woosung said, voice frosty and absolute. 

Minseok’s brows twitched upwards, a look of derision settling over his traits. “You’ll really kill your own son? I thought you loved him in your own twisted way. Guess I was wrong.”

“I did love him,” Woosung said sternly, his outstretched arm untiring. “Until he spewed that bullshit that I should turn myself in to the police.”

Puzzlement swirled in Minseok’s gaze at the silence that ensued. Carefully, he peeked over the desk, catching Woosung making a call.

“What are you trying to do?” Minseok asked, his view narrowing with suspicion.

“Find these fuckers,” Woosung hissed, his voice growing more erratic with each failed attempt to connect. His breathing quickened, the weapon in his hold almost forgotten as he called number after number. “Why the fuck isn’t anyone answering?”

Minseok spectated as Woosung started pacing, his restlessness going through the roof. “Woosung-ah,” he called out calmly. “No one will help you anymore. You have nothing left. You’re all alone.” 

The reality of the situation dropped over Woosung’s shoulders like snow, cold and heavy. It rooted him to his spot and drained any ounce of strength he had left. His hand fell to his side, the gun dangling loosely as his expression twisted with despair. “You’re right. Without my businesses, I have nothing. I am nothing. I prefer to die. So let’s die together, Minseok-ah.”

“Aish, so stubborn,” Minseok said under his breath, irritation flickering across his face. Holstering his gun, he retrieved a small, oval device from his pocket and tossed it at Woosung’s feet. “Sleep well.”

Before realization could find Woosung, a chemical smell stung his nose, a single breath enough to make him dizzy. The potent chemical rapidly affected both, but Woosung was the first to lose consciousness. 

Minseok staggered as the gas began to disorient him, his strength fading. He fumbled for his earpiece, his voice slurred and quiet. “Guys, come... get us. Wear... masks.” 

“What the fuck did he do?” Jungkook asked, alarm flaring deep in his gut. 

“Gas grenade?” Namjoon guessed, still hiding in the van with the others. 

“You’re right,” Jungkook said. “Do you have masks?” 

“We do,” Sinju replied, reaching for the bag from the van’s corner. “Should we go in?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said. “We’ll be there in two.”

The van screeched to a halt in front of the open gate just as two men carried Minseok out of the house, his unconscious form slumping against them.

Everyone rushed out of the van to check on Minseok’s state. “He’s just sleeping, right?” Taehyung asked, his eyes scanning Minseok’s pale face. A silent gasp emitted from his mouth as he detected his bloody ear. “He’s bleeding.”

“Fucking Woosung shot him,” Jungkook gritted out as he placed his fingers on the side of Minseok’s neck, checking his pulse. “Strong and steady. He’s okay. Get me the first-aid kit.”

A team member hurried to the van and returned seconds later. “I’ll handle him,” the man offered, kneeling beside Minseok to treat him. 

“Thanks,” Jungkook said. His attention diverted as two more men emerged, struggling under the weight of an unconscious Woosung. “What are we going to do with him?”

Taehyung watched as they dropped him on the ground in front of him. “Should we take him to the police station with all the evidence?”

“Yeah, we should.” Jungkook riveted his gaze at the bag of money Minseok had collected, still lying on the ground nearby. Without a word, he picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder.

The team loaded the two unconscious men into the van. Minseok was laid carefully across the backseat, his head supported on a folded jacket, while Woosung was dumped into a corner, his hands bound with a zip tie.

The two vans soon roared to life, speeding down the driveway. As they reached the end of the property, Jungkook signaled for the driver to stop. They knew what was coming — what they had to do. One last step to end it all. One last step to avenge Woosung and give just a fraction of justice to his victims. 

One last step to taste the sweetness of ultimate victory. 

“Minjoon,” Jungkook uttered into his earpiece. “Do it.”

Everyone shifted their attention to the grand house behind them, as Minjoon started the countdown, detonator in hand. 

A deafening explosion ripped through the air, and the house went up in flames. Windows shattered, walls crumbled, and a fiery cloud of smoke rose into the sky. The once-proud mansion was reduced to rubble in a matter of seconds, the roar of destruction lingering in their ears.

The team watched in silence, the gravity of the moment hanging over them. For Jungkook, it was the end of years of planning, of betrayal and danger. For Taehyung, it was the closure of a chapter marked by secrets and sorrow. He had to lose his childhood home, but it didn’t feel so bitter since he now knew he had lived there with a monster disguised as his father. 

As they drove away, Jungkook curled his arm around Taehyung, tugging him closer. A soft, weary sigh leaked out of him as he rested his forehead gently against Taehyung’s temple, his eyes fluttering shut. “We did it,” he said, his voice light with relief. “We destroyed everything.” 

Taehyung’s lips curved into a faint, serene smile as he relished the warmth Jungkook’s body exuded. His arm found its place around Jungkook too, their bodies locked securely together. “So we can start building us,” Taehyung uttered. The timbre of his words carried a soothing quality, like a whispered promise of a new beginning. 

A tender smile formed on Jungkook’s lips, his embrace tightening, as if he could shield Taehyung from every storm they had to endure to reach this moment. He didn’t say anything more — he didn’t need to. For the first time in years, there was no plan to strategize, no danger lurking nearby. No agony, no sorrow, no tears, no secrets. 

There was only the love of his life in his arms and the promise of a future they were finally free to recreate together.

───⭒───༺🖤 ༻───⭒───
They did it! Fluff and smut are coming up, so don't go anywhere!! You won't regret it😌

Three chapters left⏳😥