Sorry for the late update. My health was not very good from the last two weeks. But now I am better. Hope you enjoy reading the chapter.
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Bang Si Hyuk's POV**
The night had settled over the city like a heavy blanket, suffocating, oppressive. I could feel it pressing down on me, as if the darkness itself knew something was wrong. The Bangtan gang, my most trusted, my pride—had vanished without a trace. Not just one or two of them, but all of them, as if they had been plucked from the earth by invisible hands. My heart pounded with a fear I hadn't felt in years. These men weren't just my best operatives; they were like my own sons.
I had deployed every resource at my disposal, sent my entire force into the night to search every possible hideout, every contact, every informant. Yet, they all came back with the same answer—nothing. It didn't make sense. They were too smart, too careful to be caught off guard like this. The more I thought about it, the more my worry twisted into something darker. Fear, yes, but also suspicion.
My gaze fell on So Hoon, one of their close friends. He was pacing, his phone clutched in his hand as he talked to someone. I moved closer, staying in the shadows, my breath barely audible as I listened in.
" Have it? Is anything more needed? I need to know, now," So Hoon was saying, his voice laced with frustration. There was a pause, and then he added, "I don't care what it takes, just do it. "
There was something about his tone, something that didn't sit right with me. So Hoon wasn't just worried; he seemed desperate, almost too desperate. Was he trying to find the team with his own sources? Is he capable of doing it? I felt a coldness settle in the pit of my stomach. How could he be so sure his contacts would find them when I, with all my resources, had found nothing? And why did he seem so adamant, what was so urgent that he needed to talk now?
Then there was Jongin. Another close friend of the Bangtan members, Jongin had been hovering around So Hoon all night. He wasn't doing much to help the search; instead, he was glued to So Hoon's side, as if he was guarding him—or watching him. It was strange, unsettling. Jongin had always been fiercely loyal to his friends according to the boys,but tonight, he was almost too quiet, too reserved. It made me wonder: what did he know?
A chill ran down my spine as the pieces started to fall into place. What if So Hoon and Jongin knew something they weren't telling me? What if they were hiding something? I hated the thought, but in this world, trust was a fragile thing. Could they be involved in whatever had happened? Or were they simply trying to protect their friends, scared and uncertain?
I clenched my fists, the worry gnawing at me like a relentless beast. These boys were more than just a gang to me—they were family. I had watched them grow, had seen them fight and struggle and triumph. The thought of them in danger, alone, made my chest tighten with fear. I had to find them, and soon.
But I couldn't act rashly. If I accused So Hoon or Jongin without proof, I could lose any chance of finding out what they knew. I had to be smart, had to play this carefully. I needed to keep my suspicions hidden, watch them closely, and wait for the right moment.
As I stood there, watching So Hoon pace and Jongin hover nearby, I made a silent vow. I would find the Bangtan gang, no matter what it took. And if someone had taken them, if someone had hurt them... They would pay dearly for it. This wasn't just business anymore; this was personal.
The search was far from over. In fact, it had only just begun.
---
Namhyuk stood in the middle of the training room, his eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched as he tried to focus his energy. He could feel the power surging within him, wild and untamed, like a storm threatening to break free. Dae Jung and Min Ho, his brothers, stood by his side, offering words of encouragement. But no matter how hard he tried, Namhyuk couldn't control it. Instead, his attempts were met with failure, leaving him frustrated and disheartened.
"Come on, Namhyuk, you can do it!" Dae Jung said with a grin, trying to keep the mood light. He watched Namhyuk's serious expression and couldn't help but find it endearing. Namhyuk had always had a childlike innocence about him, a purity that made him seem far younger than he was. Dae Jung chuckled softly and ruffled Namhyuk's hair. "Don't look so serious! You'll get it eventually."
Namhyuk pouted, his frustration momentarily forgotten as he gave Dae Jung a playful shove. "I'm trying, okay? It's just... hard!" he whined, his voice taking on a cute, almost pouty tone. He wasn't just acting; he was genuinely struggling, and it showed.
Min Ho, who had been observing quietly, couldn't help but smile. There was something about Namhyuk's earnestness that always brought out his protective instincts. He knew how much Namhyuk wanted to succeed, and he admired him for his determination. But it was hard not to be charmed by his younger brother's adorable antics.
As they played around, the door to the training room suddenly swung open with a loud bang. The atmosphere changed instantly. Madam Hana, stormed in, her eyes blazing with fury. Dae Jung barely had time to react before she was upon him, pushing him forcefully against the wall.
"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, her voice cold and sharp. "This isn't a game! You're supposed to be helping him control his power, not coddling him like a child!"
Namhyuk's playful expression vanished, replaced by a flash of anger. How dare she hurt Dae Jung? Before he could move to protect him, Madam Hana's nine tails materialized behind her, one of them lashing out and wrapping tightly around Namhyuk's throat. The sudden constriction cut off his breath, and his eyes widened in shock.
"Listen to me, you weak little fool," Madam Hana snarled, her eyes glowing with a terrifying intensity. "You want to protect him? You want to avenge him? Then stop being such a useless weakling and start acting like the alpha you're supposed to be!"
Namhyuk gasped for air, his vision blurring as her grip tightened. Her words cut deep, each one like a dagger to his already fragile confidence. "You're nothing but a burden, Namhyuk," she continued, her voice dripping with disdain. "If you don't want to be left behind, if you don't want to be discarded like the useless thing you are, then you need to get stronger. Do you hear me? You're worthless unless you learn to control your power."
Dae Jung, recovering from the shock of being thrown against the wall, tried to move toward Namhyuk, but another of Madam Hana's tails blocked his path. But Min Ho stands between Dae Jung and Hana. "Stay where you are, Dae Jung," she commanded, her voice icy. "If you really care about him, you'll stop playing these foolish games and make him practice. Because if you don't, I won't hesitate to get rid of anything—or anyone—that's useless to me."
With that, she released Namhyuk, letting him crumple to the ground as she turned her back on them. "Remember what I've said," she snapped at Dae Jung and Min Ho. "Make him practice, or I'll find someone who will."
As she left the room, the door slamming shut behind her, Namhyuk lay on the floor, gasping for breath, coughing violently as he tried to recover. But instead of worrying about himself, his first thought was of Dae Jung. He crawled over to his brother, his eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay, hyung? Did she hurt you?"
Dae Jung managed a weak smile, hiding the pain he felt from the impact. "I'm fine, Namhyuk," he said, brushing off the scratches on his arms as if they were nothing. "It's just a few scratches. Don't worry about me."
But Namhyuk's heart ached with guilt. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was the cause of all this. If only he were stronger, if only he could control his power... none of this would have happened. Unable to bear the weight of his emotions, he quietly excused himself and retreated to his room, where he locked the door and refused to come out.
As Namhyuk isolated himself, another figure had been watching the entire scene unfold—Byung Ho. He had been standing just out of sight, observing with a calculating expression. Byung Ho was not a man who showed his hand easily, but inside, his mind was already working on a plan, a plan that would play perfectly into Namhyuk's naivety.
Later, as Dae Jung and Min Ho discussed what had happened, trying to figure out how to help Namhyuk, Byung Ho approached them with a feigned look of concern. "I couldn't help but overhear what happened," he said, his voice smooth and sympathetic. "Madam Hana was harsh, but perhaps she had a point. Namhyuk needs to get stronger, and quickly. Have you considered taking him to the isolation cell in the basement?"
Dae Jung frowned. "The isolation cell? Isn't that a bit extreme? He's already struggling. Forcing him won't work. Don't try to train him your brutal way, just the way you did with Namjoon. Be away from him. Mind it. "
Byung Ho shook his head, his expression serious. "He and Namjoon are different. I can't use the same way. Anyways, about the isolation cell, it's precisely because he's struggling that he needs it. The isolation cell will force him to focus, to confront his weaknesses head-on. You've seen how sensitive he is—if he doesn't face his challenges directly, he'll never grow. Besides, it's for his own good. If he can survive alone and practice, he'll come out stronger, and no one will be able to hurt him."
Min Ho considered this, his protective instincts warring with his desire to see Namhyuk improve. "Maybe Byung Ho's right," he finally said, though his voice was uncertain. "Madam Hana won't go easy on him, and we can't always be there to protect him. If the isolation cell can help him... then maybe it's worth a try."
Dae Jung sighed, still unsure, but he knew that they didn't have many options. "Fine. But we need to be careful. His nature is different. We need to be careful with him.
Byung Ho hid his smirk, knowing he had successfully planted the seeds of his plan. "Don't worry. I'll go talk to Namhyuk and explain things. I can make him understand better. "
Leaving Dae Jung and Min Ho to their preparations, Byung Ho made his way to Namhyuk's room, knocking gently on the door. When Namhyuk hesitantly opened it, Byung Ho gave him a reassuring smile. "Hey, Namhyuk. I know you're feeling bad about what happened, but I wanted to talk to you about something important."
Namhyuk looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, still feeling the weight of guilt from earlier. But he did not like Byung ho but he was not in the mood to argue."What is it, Byung Ho? Is everything okay?"
Byung Ho's expression softened, feigning concern as he stepped closer. "Actually, I'm worried about Dae Jung and Min Ho. Madam Hana wasn't pleased with what happened, and... well, she might punish them because of it."
Namhyuk's heart sank. "Punish them? Because of me?"
Byung Ho nodded slowly, carefully choosing his words to manipulate Namhyuk's emotions. "They were supposed to be helping you get stronger, but instead, they were playing around. Madam Hana doesn't tolerate weakness, and she sees this as a failure on their part. But... there's something you can do to help them."
Namhyuk's eyes filled with determination, desperate to make things right. "What can I do? I'll do anything to help them!"
Byung Ho's smile widened ever so slightly, knowing he had him right where he wanted him. "You can take on some of their responsibilities. They're supposed to handle the tasks in the isolation cells—the feeding, the care of the prisoners—but if you do it for them, Madam Hana might go easier on them. It would mean a lot to them if you could help out, and it would give them more time to help you train. Also you can train yourself in the isolation cell. When you are alone,you will be able to practice more. "
Namhyuk's face lit up with hope. He was not so concerned about himself but his brothers. "I can do that! I want to help them as much as I can. I'll take care of everything in the isolation cells so they won't have to worry."
Byung Ho patted him on the shoulder, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's the spirit, Namhyuk. I knew I could count on you."
As Namhyuk hurried off to start his new duties, eager to prove himself and help his brothers, Byung Ho watched him go, a dark smile curling at the corners of his lips. Byung Ho's plan was far more sinister than just making Namhyuk take on extra duties. He wanted Namhyuk to meet the prisoners in the isolation cells for a reason—specifically, he wanted Namhyuk to encounter the Bangtan members who had been imprisoned there. Byung Ho knew that Namhyuk's innocence and naivety could be manipulated, and he hoped to use this to his advantage by orchestrating a situation that would bring Namhyuk into contact with the Bangtan members. By doing so, he could create confusion, mistrust, or even worse—accidentally reveal secrets that could lead to Namhyuk's downfall. His ultimate goal was to sow discord and set events in motion that would weaken Namhyuk's bond with his brothers and make him more vulnerable to Byung Ho's schemes.
---
As Namhyuk descended into the basement, the atmosphere grew colder and more oppressive. The isolation cells were located in the damp basement which was looking very old and dark. The guards seeing a new face looked up in surprise.
"I have been given orders. I'll take over from here," Namhyuk announced with a cheerful smile. "You can all take a rest."
The guards exchanged glances, puzzled by his sudden appearance, but they were also lazy and saw this as an opportunity to relax. Without questioning him, they handed over their duties and retreated, leaving Namhyuk alone in the long corridor lined with cells.
There were twenty isolation cells in total, and as Namhyuk began his rounds, he quickly realized that most of them were either empty or contained prisoners who had no interest in interacting with him. Still, Namhyuk, being the kind-hearted and somewhat overenthusiastic person he was, made a point to open each cell door rather than simply passing food through the small slot.
"Hello! I'm Namhyuk, the new guard," he would say, his voice full of enthusiasm. "If you need anything, just let me know!"
Most prisoners ignored him, some glared at him, and a few even considered escaping when they saw him enter unarmed. But Namhyuk's alpha presence, despite his lack of control over his powers, was enough to keep them in check. His natural strength was imposing, and even without meaning to, he exuded an aura that made them think twice about crossing him.
Eventually, Namhyuk reached the second-to-last cell. Inside, he found an old lady sitting in the corner, her eyes closed as if she were meditating. Namhyuk entered and introduced himself as usual.
"Hello, ma'am! I'm Namhyuk. I'm here to bring you your food," he said with a bright smile.
The lady opened her eyes, and Namhyuk couldn't help but stare. Her eyes were mesmerizing, with a depth and beauty that caught him off guard.
"You have very beautiful eyes, ma'am!" Namhyuk blurted out, his voice filled with genuine admiration.
The old lady smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, young one. It's nice to meet you, Namhyuk."
Namhyuk returned the smile with one of his own, his dimples showing prominently as he handed her the food. After bidding her goodbye, he moved on to the last cell, the biggest one of all. As he approached, he noticed that there was a lot of noise coming from inside—voices talking, things clattering, and the occasional thud.
"Hmm, maybe there are two or three people in there," Namhyuk thought to himself as he reached for the gate.
He unlocked the cell and was about to step inside when his foot suddenly slipped on an ice shard near the entrance. With a yelp, he lost his balance and fell backward onto the floor. The tray of food he was carrying flew up into the air, and Namhyuk instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact of the food raining down on him.
But nothing happened.
Cautiously, Namhyuk opened one eye, then the other. To his surprise, the food was suspended in midair, hovering in front of him as if held by an invisible force. Before he could fully process what was happening, the food disappeared into a small, shimmering portal that had opened up in front of him.
The portal then vanished, leaving Namhyuk blinking in confusion. He let out a sigh of relief, thinking he had been saved from an embarrassing situation. Just as he was about to turn his head to thank whoever had helped him, the portal reappeared right in front of his face.
Namhyuk stared at it, his face full of confusion and curiosity. But before he could react, the portal suddenly spat out a large gush of water, drenching him from head to toe in an instant.
"Ahhh!" Namhyuk shrieked, scrambling to get up as he found himself completely soaked. His hair dripped, his clothes clung to his body, and a puddle quickly formed on the floor beneath him. He sputtered and shook his head, trying to clear the water from his eyes.
A voice from inside the cell suddenly spoke up, a mixture of amusement and genuine apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that!"
As soon as Namhyuk, drenched from head to toe, turned around after the unexpected water gush, he saw a group of unfamiliar faces staring at him in disbelief. Seokjin, the one who had accidentally drenched him with his portal powers, was the first to speak.
"Namjoon?" Seokjin's voice trembled as he looked at Namhyuk, his eyes filling with tears of joy. "Is it really you?"
The others in the cell, immediately recognized him too. Their expressions shifted from confusion to elation as they cried out in unison, "Namjoon!"
Namhyuk, utterly confused by the name they were calling, turned around, expecting to see someone standing behind him. But there was no one. He looked back at the group with a puzzled expression. "Who's Namjoon?"
The room fell silent. The joy that had filled the air moments ago was replaced by a tense, uneasy silence. The members exchanged worried glances, fear creeping into their hearts. Had he forgotten them? What had Hana and Byung Ho done to him?
"Namjoon, it's us," Taehyung said cautiously, stepping forward. "Don't you remember? We're your friends… your brothers."
Namhyuk shook his head, still confused. "I'm sorry, but I think you're mistaken. My name is Namhyuk, not Namjoon." He looked around at their stunned faces, feeling guilty for ruining their food. "I'm really sorry about your meal getting ruined. I'll make it again."
The members were speechless. Seokjin's tears of happiness turned into tears of sorrow and confusion. He couldn't understand what had happened to Namjoon, their brother, to his soulmate. How could he forget them? What kind of twisted game were Hana and Byung Ho playing?
"Namjoon," Jungkook whispered, trying desperately to reach him, "Please, try to remember. We've been through so much together."
Namhyuk's heart ached seeing the pain in their eyes, but he still didn't understand. "I'm really sorry," he said softly. "I don't remember being called Namjoon. I've always been Namhyuk."
The confusion and fear among the members grew. What had been done to Namjoon? What kind of torment had he been through to forget who he was? Did he forget them again, like before?They had to find out, and they had to get their maknae back. But for now, all they could do was watch as Namhyuk, who had no memory of his past, apologized for something that wasn't his fault and tried to do the only thing he could—make them food to replace the meal he had accidentally ruined.
In the back of their minds, they feared what this meant. If Namjoon, now Namhyuk, had truly forgotten them, what else had he lost? And more importantly, what could they do to bring him back?
Namhyuk was about to leave the cell, his mind spinning with confusion, when Seokjin suddenly grabbed his hand. His grip was firm, almost desperate, as if he was holding onto something far more fragile than just Namhyuk's hand—perhaps a hope, a memory, or the very essence of someone he feared he had lost.
"Namjoon, I won't let you go," Seokjin's voice cracked with emotion, his eyes wide and filled with unshed tears. "I won't. Not again."
Namhyuk turned back to face Seokjin, seeing the pain in his eyes but not fully understanding its depth. Seokjin reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring—a blue ring, with something carved inside the ring, holding a significance that Namhyuk couldn't comprehend.
"Do you remember this ring?" Seokjin asked, his voice trembling as he held it up between them. "You gave it to me. I also gave you a pink one, it's at home. When you were starting to lose your memories, you handed it to me and said, 'Hyung, if I ever forget, show me this ring. Make me remember.' I promised you, Joon-ah. I promised I would never let you forget who you are, who we are. I won't let you go, not like this."
Namhyuk stared at the ring, his brow furrowing as he tried to grasp the emotions flooding from Seokjin. But there was no recognition, no flash of memory, no sudden rush of familiarity. It was just a ring—a ring that obviously meant something to Seokjin, but nothing to him.
He sighed softly, the weight of Seokjin's expectations pressing down on him. "Look," Namhyuk began, his voice gentle but firm, "I understand that I must look like someone you care about a lot, someone named Namjoon. And if I resemble him, I'll help you find him. I promise. But you have to let go of my hand first."
Seokjin's heart twisted painfully at Namhyuk's words. This was Namjoon standing before him—the Namjoon who had been his friend, his brother, his everything. And yet, the man he loved was looking at him with eyes that didn't recognize him, with words that belonged to a stranger.
Namhyuk tilted his head slightly, his confusion deepening. "By the way… who are you to Namjoon? What did he mean to you?"
Seokjin's breath caught in his throat. The question echoed in his mind, amplifying the ache in his chest. Who was he to Namjoon? How could he possibly explain the complicated, tangled emotions he had always felt toward the man who now stood before him as someone else?
In his mind, Seokjin saw flashes of memories—moments of laughter, of tears, of arguments, and of love. He saw Namjoon's face, lit by the glow of a dimly lit room as they shared secrets late into the night. He heard Namjoon's voice, deep and comforting, guiding him through his darkest hours. He felt Namjoon's touch, both gentle and firm, grounding him in times of chaos.
But he also remembered the distance—the walls that Namjoon had built, the secrets he kept, and the times Seokjin had failed to break through. He remembered the times he didn't protect Namjoon, the times he let him walk into danger alone because he thought Namjoon was strong enough to handle it. He remembered the pain in Namjoon's eyes when Seokjin couldn't be what he needed, couldn't be there when he needed.
"Who am I to Namjoon?" Seokjin whispered to himself, the question lingering in the cold air. He clenched the ring in his hand, his knuckles turning white as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill over.
"A friend… but I never truly earned his trust," Seokjin began, his voice thick with regret. "A brother… but I never protected him when he needed me the most. A soulmate… but what kind of lover fails so completely that he ends up hurting the one he loves, not once, but twice?"
Seokjin's voice broke, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. "I don't know what I am to Namjoon anymore. All I know is that I can't lose him—not again, not after everything we've been through. I don't deserve to call myself his friend, his brother, his lover… but he's everything to me. He's the reason I kept going, the reason I believed there was something worth fighting for. And now…"
Seokjin looked up at Namhyuk, his eyes pleading, desperate for any sign of recognition. "Please, Joon-ah… please try to remember. You have to remember. I can't do this without you. I can't… I can't lose you like this."
Namhyuk stood still, absorbing Seokjin's words, feeling the raw pain and love radiating from him. But no matter how hard he tried, there was nothing in his mind that connected to the name "Namjoon." He felt for Seokjin—truly, he did—but he couldn't give him what he wanted.
"I'm sorry," Namhyuk said softly, his voice filled with regret. "I'm sorry that I'm not the person you need me to be. I'm Namhyuk. That's all I know. But I'll help you find Namjoon, I swear. Just… just let go of my hand, okay?"
Seokjin's grip loosened, and he slowly released Namhyuk's hand, his heart shattering into pieces. He watched as Namhyuk stepped back, his eyes filled with uncertainty but also a kind of innocent determination. He wasn't Namjoon—not the Namjoon Seokjin knew—but there was still something of him in there. Something that Seokjin couldn't let go of, no matter how much it hurt.
As Namhyuk turned to leave, Seokjin's voice broke through the silence one last time, barely more than a whisper. "I'll never stop trying to bring you back, Joon-ah. I promise you that."
But Namhyuk did not turn back to see him, leaving Seokjin alone with the ring in his hand and a heart full of shattered memories.
Namhyuk was about to step out of the cell when suddenly, Yeonjun's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
"Stop!"
Namhyuk paused, turning around slowly, his gaze locking with Yeonjun's. The room fell silent as the tension between them grew palpable.
"What now?" Namhyuk asked, a mix of curiosity and irritation in his tone. He had just wanted to leave, to clear his head after the confusing encounter with Seokjin.
Yeonjun approached him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Namhyuk's aura. "Your energy flow… it's disrupted. Very irregular," he said, his voice calm but firm. "And you're a strong alpha. So why is your energy so out of balance?"
Namhyuk shifted uncomfortably under Yeonjun's scrutinizing gaze. He didn't like where this conversation was heading. "I'm practicing. It'll get better. None of your business," he replied, his tone defensive.
Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by Namhyuk's dismissive attitude. But before he could say anything, Yoongi stepped into the conversation, his voice smooth and slightly challenging. "What if we help you stabilize your energy?"
Namhyuk blinked, surprised by Yoongi's offer. "You'll help me? You're just a human! How could you possibly help with something like this?" he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
Yoongi's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "We humans have more skills than you might think," he said, his voice carrying a hint of a challenge.
Do you know Dae Jung and Min Ho?" Yoongi asked, his tone sharp as he took a step closer to Namhyuk
Namhyuk narrowed his eyes, feeling a sudden wave of protectiveness wash over him. "
Why? What about them?" he asked, his voice steady, Yoongi could sense the possessiveness in Namhyuk's voice.
Yoongi's smile didn't waver. "We humans have defeated those alphas before," he said casually, shrugging his shoulders. "Still doubt us?"
Namhyuk's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "You? Really? Hard to believe."
"Try us then," Jimin chimed in, his voice light but his eyes serious.
"Fight and see the answer for yourself," Jungkook added, stepping forward, his posture relaxed but ready.
Namhyuk felt his pride bristle at their confidence. He was an alpha, a powerful one at that, even if his energy was out of balance. There was no way these humans could match him, right?
"Fine," Namhyuk said, his voice filled with determination. He glanced around, sizing up the group. His eyes landed on Jimin, who looked the youngest and smallest among them. Namhyuk assumed he would be the easiest to defeat. "I'll start with you," he said, pointing at Jimin.
Jimin simply nodded, stepping forward with a calm confidence that made Namhyuk hesitate for a split second. But Namhyuk quickly shook off the doubt. He was an alpha. He could handle this.
The two faced off, the tension in the air thickening. Namhyuk lunged first, aiming to grab Jimin by the shoulders, intending to use his sheer strength to overpower him. But Jimin was quick—too quick. He sidestepped Namhyuk's attack with an effortless grace, his movements fluid and precise.
Namhyuk stumbled slightly, surprised by Jimin's agility. He spun around, trying to catch Jimin off guard, but Jimin was already moving again, ducking under Namhyuk's arm and delivering a sharp jab to his side.
Namhyuk grunted in pain, more from surprise than the force of the blow. He hadn't expected Jimin to be so nimble, so fast. He tried again, this time using his speed to close the distance between them, but Jimin was like water—slipping through his fingers, always one step ahead.
Jimin moved with a dancer's grace, his strikes precise and well-timed. He used Namhyuk's own momentum against him, dodging and countering with ease. Every time Namhyuk thought he had Jimin cornered, Jimin would twist away, his movements almost too fast to track.
Within minutes, Namhyuk was panting, his frustration growing with each failed attempt to land a solid hit on Jimin. In contrast, Jimin barely seemed winded, his face calm and focused.
In a final, desperate attempt, Namhyuk charged at Jimin with everything he had, hoping to overwhelm him with brute force. But Jimin simply waited, his eyes locked on Namhyuk's every move. At the last possible moment, Jimin spun around, grabbing Namhyuk by the wrist and using his momentum to flip him onto the ground.
Namhyuk hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of his lungs. He lay there, stunned, trying to process what had just happened. Jimin stood over him, offering a hand to help him up.
"How…?" Namhyuk managed to gasp out, still in shock.
Jimin smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Told you. We humans have our own strengths."
Namhyuk took Jimin's hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. He couldn't believe it—he had lost to someone so small, someone who looked so unassuming. But the evidence was right in front of him.
Suddenly, Namhyuk's curiosity got the better of him. Without thinking, he reached out and picked Jimin up in his arms, examining him closely. "You're really human?" Namhyuk asked, his voice filled with genuine confusion. He leaned in, sniffing at Jimin's hair and touching his hands, trying to figure out how someone so nimble and fast could be humanhuman or whether he is a hybrid masking his smell.
Jimin's eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush spread across his cheeks as Namhyuk's hands began to wander. "What… what are you doing?" Jimin stammered, his voice a mixture of shock and embarrassment. When Namhyuk's hand brushed a little too close to his lower back, Jimin quickly grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "Hey! Stop that! What are you trying to do?"
Namhyuk blinked, looking down at Jimin with wide, innocent eyes. "I'm just… I'm just checking. You're very nimble and fast. I've never seen a human move like that," he said, his voice filled with childlike wonder.
Jimin stared at him for a moment, trying to reconcile the innocent expression on Namhyuk's face with the awkward situation they were in. Finally, he let out a sigh, shaking his head in disbelief.
"You're really something, aren't you?" Jimin muttered, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. He gently pushed Namhyuk away, stepping back to put some distance between them.
Namhyuk tilted his head, still looking at Jimin with that same innocent curiosity. "So… will you help me stabilize my energy?" he asked, his voice now softer, almost hopeful.
Jimin exchanged a glance with the others, and they all nodded in silent agreement. "We'll help you," Jimin said, a small smile playing on his lips. "But you have to trust us, Namhyuk. Can you do that?"
Namhyuk hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay… I'll try."
As the group began to plan out how they would help Namhyuk, the air was lighter, filled with a sense of camaraderie that hadn't been there before. Despite everything, Namhyuk found himself slowly starting to trust these humans—these strange, powerful humans who were willing to help him, even though he didn't fully understand why.
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So Hoon and Jongin strolled down the narrow, winding streets, the evening air crisp and cool as a musty breeze rustled through the trees lining the old neighborhood. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the cobblestone paths. The two of them walked in comfortable silence, both deep in thought about their recent situation.
"Jongin-ah, we've been living in that hotel because of the BTS gang's orders," So Hoon began, his voice low as he broke the silence. "But now that they're gone, we're kind of stuck. We can't keep staying in hotels—it's too expensive, and it's not exactly the most discreet place to be."
Jongin nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful. "You're right. We've already been attracting too much attention, and that's the last thing we need right now."
So Hoon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced around the unfamiliar streets. "But where can we go? We need somewhere safe, somewhere no one would think to look for us."
Jongin suddenly perked up, a small weird smile forming on his lips as an idea struck him. "Actually, I might have just the place. It's not fancy, but it's old, and it's definitely off the radar. If you don't mind, we can stay there for a while."
So Hoon turned to him, curious. "You have an old house? Why didn't you mention it before?"
Jongin shrugged, a little sheepish. "It's not much to talk about, really. It's been in my family for years, but no one's lived there in a long time. It's a bit run-down, but it's still standing, and it'll be more than enough for the two of us."
So Hoon considered this for a moment before nodding. "That sounds perfect. Lead the way."
Jongin guided So Hoon through the maze of narrow alleys and small paths, the area becoming more secluded and quieter with each turn they took. The buildings grew older, their facades worn by time, yet they had a certain charm that only age could bring. Eventually, they reached a small gate nestled between two tall brick walls. The house beyond it was modest, a bit weathered, but still standing strong.
Jongin pulled out a key and unlocked the gate, pushing it open with a soft creak. The two of them stepped inside, the atmosphere instantly changing from the bustling streets outside to a quiet, almost eerie stillness.
The house itself looked decent, though it clearly hadn't been maintained in a while. The roof was intact, the windows were old but unbroken, and the front door had a few scratches but was sturdy enough. It was clear that this place had seen better days, but it was also clear that it had been a home once—a place with a history.
Jongin opened the front door and stepped aside to let So Hoon enter first. "It's not much, but it's ours for now," he said, his tone a mix of pride and nostalgia.
So Hoon stepped inside, looking around at the old furniture covered with white sheets, the wooden floors creaking under his feet. The air was thick with dust, the scent of age permeating the space. Yet, despite its age and the layer of neglect, the house felt warm, almost welcoming.
"It's nice," So Hoon said, his voice soft as he took it all in. "I like it."
Jongin smiled, "Good. Make yourself comfortable. Just one thing, though." He pointed towards the end of the hallway, where a closed door stood, slightly darker than the others as if it had absorbed more years of history. "That last corner room? It's forbidden."
So Hoon raised an eyebrow, surprised by Jongin's sudden seriousness. "Forbidden? Why?"
Jongin hesitated for a moment before answering, his voice measured. "It's just a storage room, really. But it hasn't been opened in years, and there's probably a lot of dust and dirt accumulated in there. I'd prefer if we just leave it be, at least for now. No point in making a mess when we've just arrived."
So Hoon nodded, though a flicker of curiosity sparked in his mind. "Alright, I'll stay out of there."
"Thanks," Jongin said, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. He walked towards the kitchen, clapping his hands together. "Anyway, it's getting colder, and it looks like it'll rain soon. How about we make some hot, piping noodles? Perfect weather for it."
So Hoon chuckled, following Jongin into the kitchen. "You read my mind. Noodles sound great."
Jongin grinned, already rummaging through the cupboards for ingredients. "Great! And you know what? I'll make some egg rolls too. It'll be a feast!"
So Hoon laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "You're really excited about this, aren't you?"
"Of course! I don't get to cook often, so when I do, I go all out," Jongin replied, his enthusiasm contagious. He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "You wait here, I will bring noodles and eggs. I'll run to the store and grab some. You start on the noodles, and I'll be back in a jiffy."
So Hoon nodded, watching as Jongin grabbed his coat and headed towards the door. "Sure thing. I will wash the utensils and keep other things ready by the time you get back."
As the door closed behind Jongin, leaving So Hoon alone in the house, the atmosphere seemed to shift slightly. The silence grew more pronounced, and So Hoon could hear the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the house. He busied himself with washing the utensils and cleaning the table trying to ignore the growing curiosity about the forbidden room.
But as the minutes ticked by, that curiosity gnawed at him more and more. Why had Jongin been so insistent that he stay out of that room? What could possibly be in there that needed to be hidden?
He glanced down the hallway at the closed door, his mind racing. Jongin had said it was just a storage room, full of dust and dirt. But something about the way he had spoken—so careful, so measured—made So Hoon doubt that explanation. There was something more, something Jongin wasn't telling him.
And So Hoon couldn't resist the urge to find out.
He set the pot of pots aside, leaving the water to boil as he slowly made his way down the hallway. His heart began to race as he approached the door, the curiosity now an almost tangible force pulling him forward. He paused in front of the door, staring at the worn wood, the dark surface seeming to absorb the dim light from the hallway.
A small, creepy smile played on So Hoon's lips. "Curiosity always kills the cat," he muttered to himself, reaching out to touch the doorknob. "But I'm not a cat."
His fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the doorknob, and for a moment, he hesitated. He could almost hear Jongin's voice in his head, warning him to stay away. But he smiles and that smile meant something different, something weird.
With a slow, deliberate twist, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.
The room beyond was dark, the air heavy with the scent of dust and age. So Hoon stepped inside, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light. The room was filled with old furniture, covered in more white sheets, stacks of boxes piled high in the corners. It looked like any other storage room—cluttered, forgotten, left to gather dust over the years.
But as So Hoon's eyes scanned the room, like trying to see if he could find something. He was roaming when his foot got stuck in the broken wooden floor and he almost fell down. The wooden floor looked like it was broken on purpose to hide things.
So Hoon was carefully making his way through the old, dusty room, his curiosity piqued despite the nagging feeling in his gut that he should leave. The dim light barely reached the corners of the space, casting long shadows that seemed to move on their own. As he took another hesitant step, his foot caught on something—a loose wooden plank in the floor.
He stumbled, catching himself just in time, but the force of his movement dislodged the plank entirely. As it shifted, a hidden compartment was revealed beneath it. So Hoon's breath caught as he saw a large blue file, slightly worn with age, nestled in the gap. So Hoon's curiosity peaked as he stared at the blue file in his hands, but his gaze drifted toward something else lying beneath the broken wooden plank—a small, wooden box, stained and rusty with age. The box seemed out of place, yet something about it drew him in with an inexplicable, morbid curiosity.
With trembling hands, So Hoon reached out and picked up the box. The wood was rough against his skin, splinters catching on his fingers as he pried it open. The lid creaked as it gave way, revealing the contents inside. So Hoon's breath hitched, his eyes widening in horror as he took in what lay within.
Nestled inside the box, arranged with disturbing precision, were human eyeballs. They were shriveled and discolored, but unmistakably human, their empty gazes staring back at him as though they were trophies of some grotesque hunt. Some were clouded over, others still held a faint glimmer of life that sent chills down So Hoon's spine. The sight was enough to make his stomach churn, a wave of nausea threatening to overtake him.
He recoiled instinctively, nearly dropping the box, but his hand tightened around it as if afraid to let it go. For a moment, his fear overtook him, his breath coming in rapid, shallow gasps. But then, in a disturbing twist, his expression calmed, a strange, almost serene detachment taking over as he stared down at the ghastly contents.
So Hoon's calmness was fleeting, quickly replaced by a jolt of fear when he realized the gravity of what he had discovered. His hands shook slightly as he placed the box back on the floor, the image of the eyeballs burned into his mind.
Suddenly, a voice pierced the silence, making him jump. "Humans tend not to listen. You shouldn't have done this."
So Hoon's heart nearly stopped as he spun around, his gaze locking onto Jongin, who stood in the doorway. Jongin's face was shadowed, but the faint glint of the large kitchen knife in his hand was unmistakable.
"Jongin..." So Hoon managed to choke out, his voice trembling. He took a step back, but the calmness on Jongin's face froze him in place. "I... I didn't mean to—"
Jongin stepped forward slowly, his tone eerily calm. "What did I tell you about not entering this place?" His eyes flicked to the box on the floor and the open file in So Hoon's hands. "I liked you, So Hoon. You were good company... a friend." He paused, the knife in his hand gleaming ominously as he took another step forward. "But now, it's time to end this."
So Hoon's breath quickened, fear flashing in his eyes, but then, disturbingly, it was replaced by an unsettling calm. He straightened, meeting Jongin's gaze. "Jongin, wait... Just tell me one thing—did you... did you kill Joon-Woo's parents? You were our friend, from the start it was all your doings. Why? "
Jongin stopped in his tracks, a faint smile playing on his lips. "No," he replied softly, almost wistfully. "It's a shame, really. I didn't get the chance. My boss didn't allow me to. And the other plans were also ordered by my boss. My boss has the nickname 'blue kill',not me. "
So Hoon's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice taking on an eerie calmness. "Your boss? So... you're not the one in charge? Who is he? Who's really behind all this?"
Jongin's smile faded, his grip on the knife tightening. "I'm not here to answer your questions, So Hoon."
A flicker of fear crossed So Hoon's face, but then he surprised himself—and Jongin—by letting out a soft, almost amused laugh. "Jongin, you don't have to do this," he said quietly, his tone unsettlingly serene.
Before Jongin could respond, the room was suddenly plunged into darkness as a flash of lightning illuminated the scene for a brief second before the power cut out completely. The storm outside intensified, the wind howling, and thunder crashing so loudly that it shook the very walls of the old house.
In the pitch-black room, So Hoon's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears. Fear gripped him tightly, but strangely, he also felt a calmness washing over him, steadying his breath. He stood still, waiting, as the storm raged outside, lightning briefly lighting up the room.
Then, he heard it—a faint rustling, followed by the soft scrape of a blade against the floor. A chill ran down So Hoon's spine, his instincts urging him to run, but his legs wouldn't move. He was frozen, unable to do anything but stand there, listening to the sound getting closer.
"Jongin... please..." So Hoon whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. He could feel Jongin's presence now, just inches away, the air thick with tension. It was as if the darkness was closing in around him, suffocating him with the fear of what might happen next.
Then, cutting through the darkness, a loud, blood-curdling scream tore through the air—a scream filled with pure terror, echoing through the old house. The storm outside seemed to roar in response, lightning flashing through the windows, casting fleeting shadows across the room.
But inside, everything went eerily still. The scream faded, leaving only the sound of rain and the faint echo of that final, desperate cry. No one knew for sure what had happened, only that something terrible had occurred, and the house was once again silent, haunted by the unknown.