Namhyuk stood there, feeling like a helpless puppy caught in a mess he couldn't explain, Madam Hana's eyes burning into him as if she could see right through every word he said. His heart raced as she crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes.
"What were you doing in the cell?" Hana's voice was sharp, accusatory.
Namhyuk scrambled for an answer, his mind a blur of panic and confusion. "I was… I was doing what you told me," he stammered, trying his best to sound composed. "Practicing, so I don't become useless."
He puffed his chest out slightly, trying to appear more confident than he felt. Deep down, he knew he was in trouble. But he couldn't let her see his fear.
Hana's lips curled into a smirk, but there was no warmth in it. "Practicing, huh? Do you even know what you're supposed to be practicing, Namhyuk?"
Namhyuk hesitated, then threw out a wild guess. "Super strength?" He said it almost hopefully, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.
To his surprise, Hana laughed—a cold, bitter laugh that made his skin crawl. "Super strength?" she repeated mockingly. "Your father once built an entire palace, an entire city, out of nothing but his power. He had the power to make things out of thin air!! . And you think you're here to practice 'super strength'?"
Namhyuk blinked in shock. His father? He had never known anything about his parents. No one had ever told him. He had assumed they were long gone or simply didn't care. His own existence is something he finds quite puzzling. He just wakes up at the age of 25 and befriends Dae Jung and Min Ho and instruxted to practice !! Where was he till now? Asleep? In coma?
"My… my father?" he asked softly, putting other thoughts in his minds aside, the words barely escaping his lips. "He was that powerful?"
Hana's eyes gleamed with a strange light, one that made Namhyuk feel even more uneasy. "Yes," she said, her voice filled with a twisted kind of pride. "And you will do the same. You will make a place, a sanctuary, only for hybrids. Away from the filth of humans."
Namhyuk swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. "But... that sounds like a lot of work," he said, attempting to joke. "I might even lose my life doing something like that."
He chuckled awkwardly, hoping to defuse the tension, but Hana's expression darkened. Her eyes gleamed with madness as she stepped closer to him.
"Then die," she hissed, her voice cold and cutting. "Die, but create that place. Separate the hybrids from these wretched humans. Build it, even if it costs you your life."
Namhyuk's breath caught in his throat. He had only meant it as a joke, but the look in Hana's eyes—the twisted intensity—was terrifying. She wasn't joking. She truly believed in this, and she was willing to sacrifice him for it.
His voice faltered as he tried to change the subject. "But... hybrids… they might be scattered all over the world. How do you plan to gather them?"
Hana's eyes gleamed with a disturbing triumph. "I've been gathering hybrids for the last ten years," she said proudly. "I've found them, one by one, and finally… I have you."
Namhyuk's stomach churned at her words. Something about the way she spoke—so clinical, so detached—made him feel sick. He stepped back slightly, his voice softening. "Gathered?" he asked cautiously. "Or… captured? Did they even want to come? They might have families… Did you separate them from their families?"
For the first time, Hana's expression faltered. She didn't answer, her jaw clenched as she stared at him with a look of disdain. Then, without warning, she lashed out with her foot, kicking him hard in the stomach.
Namhyuk doubled over in pain, gasping for breath. His stomach already throbbed from the earlier beating he had taken from the guard, and the fresh pain was unbearable. He tried to steady himself, but the world around him spun.
"Get out," Hana spat, her voice cold and unfeeling.
Namhyuk, too weak to resist, staggered out of the room. His whole body ached, especially his stomach where she had kicked him. The pain was overwhelming, sharp and nauseating. His legs felt like they might give out under him as he stumbled down the hallway, each step sending fresh waves of agony through his body.
By the time he reached his room, he could barely hold himself together. His stomach churned violently, and he rushed to the bathroom, his hands shaking. As he bent over the sink, he vomited, his body convulsing painfully. He gagged, his throat burning from the bile. A small trickle of blood mixed with it, and panic gripped his chest.
"What's happening to me…?" he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible. The nausea didn't subside, and the pain in his stomach seemed to grow worse with every second.
Tears pricked his eyes as he stumbled back to his bed, collapsing onto the mattress with a groan. His hands instinctively clutched his stomach, trying to hold back the searing pain that wracked his body. He curled up into a ball, his knees pressed to his chest, desperately trying to find some relief.
But the pain wouldn't go away.
It pulsed through him, relentless, until all he could do was lie there, gasping for breath, trying not to cry. He didn't want to disturb anyone, didn't want to seem weak. He can hold on to it... He don't need anyone... Right?
But as the minutes stretched into hours, the pain never dulled. It stayed with him, a constant, gnawing ache that threatened to tear him apart from the inside.
"I'm… I'm fine…" Namhyuk whispered to himself, his voice cracking. He wasn't fine, and he knew it. But he had to hold on. He couldn't let anyone see him like this. Not after what Hana had said, not after everything that had happened. He did not want to be pathetic in front of Dae Jung and Min ho. Never!
His vision blurred as the pain became too much, and he squeezed his eyes shut, tears slipping down his cheeks. In the darkness, alone and hurting, Namhyuk tried to find sleep, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the pain would be gone when he woke up.But deep down, he wasn't so sure.
The next day, Namhyuk woke up, his body still sore from the pain that racked him the night before. His stomach ached, but he forced himself to stand up, wincing as the sharp pain shot through him. He couldn't afford to show weakness—not in front of Dae Jung and Min Ho. He had to be strong, had to prove that he was capable of more than just following orders.
When he entered the room where Dae Jung was lying, wrapped in blankets, his face flushed from the heat of his omega cycle, Namhyuk immediately felt a pang in his chest. He cared deeply for Dae Jung, more than just as a brother. There was something else, something that made him want to protect Dae Jung at all costs. And now, seeing him in such a vulnerable state, Namhyuk was determined to help however he could.
"I'll get you something to eat," Namhyuk said softly, trying to sound casual, even though his insides were still in turmoil. Dae Jung barely looked at him, his eyes half-closed in exhaustion.
"Min Ho's already got it," Dae Jung muttered, his voice hoarse.
Namhyuk's heart sank, but he didn't let it show. "I can help," he insisted, forcing a smile. "I'll bring more blankets or something warm to drink."
Without waiting for an answer, Namhyuk hurried to the kitchen. Every step felt like a knife in his stomach, but he gritted his teeth, determined to push through the pain. He found a few more blankets, and after preparing some hot tea, he carefully carried them back to Dae Jung's side.
Min Ho was already there, sitting beside Dae Jung, gently wiping the sweat from his forehead. The two were engrossed in a quiet conversation, Dae Jung leaning on Min Ho's shoulder, clearly comforted by his presence.
Namhyuk cleared his throat softly, trying to get their attention. "I brought some tea… and extra blankets."
Min Ho glanced and smiled, "Thanks" but he didn't make a move to take the tea or the blankets from Namhyuk.
Namhyuk stood there awkwardly for a moment, holding the tray of tea and blankets, unsure of what to do. He felt invisible, like his efforts didn't matter. But he pushed the feeling aside, telling himself that it wasn't about recognition—it was about helping Dae Jung, no matter what.
He placed the tea and blankets down gently and backed away, his heart heavy. As he walked out of the room, he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder. Dae Jung just gave a glance at him. His attention was solely on Min Ho, the person he clearly needed the most.
Over the next few days, Namhyuk threw himself into helping however he could. When Dae Jung's heat intensified, Namhyuk made runs to the market to gather ingredients for herbal remedies, despite the unbearable pain in his stomach. He carried heavy bags, his arms shaking with effort, his body protesting with every step. But he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
One evening, after spending hours preparing food and gathering supplies, Namhyuk returned to find Dae Jung and Min Ho sitting together, laughing softly about something. The sight made his heart ache. Dae Jung hadn't laughed with himhim like that, never ever. He would always instruct him like a strict trainer, nothing more than that.
Namhyuk quietly set down the tray of food he had prepared, but neither Dae Jung nor Min Ho acknowledged him. They just said thanks and smiled at him. Nothing more. They never looked him more than a little brother running errands for them. They were too absorbed in each other, too wrapped up in their own world. Namhyuk stood there for a moment, feeling the sting of rejection deep in his chest. He had done everything he could, but it still wasn't enough. Dae Jung didn't see him, didn't notice the lengths he was going to.
The final blow came the night before Dae Jung's heat ended. Namhyuk had spent the entire day cleaning the house, trying to make things comfortable for Dae Jung. His stomach throbbed in pain, and his body felt like it was on the verge of collapsing, but he kept going. All he wanted was for Dae Jung to notice, to maybe say something—anything—that acknowledged his efforts. To make him think he can also be like Min ho. One who cares and protect about him.
As he was wiping down the living room, he overheard Min Ho speaking softly to Dae Jung in the other room.
"Namhyuk's been working hard," Min Ho said quietly. "He's been helping a lot."
Dae Jung let out a tired sigh. " Aish....that kid!!...I didn't ask him to. It's fine. He should have invested that time in practice. If he doesn't improve,Hana will scold us again. And besides...I've got you. That's all I need."
Namhyuk froze, the cloth slipping from his hand as the words cut through him. 'That's all I need'. He blinked back the sudden sting of tears, his heart breaking a little more. All his efforts, all his pain—none of it mattered to Dae Jung. He wasn't needed. Not like Min Ho was.
Later that night, as he lay in bed, clutching his stomach in agony, Namhyuk felt utterly defeated. The pain wasn't just physical anymore—it was emotional, deep, and raw. He had given everything he had, and still, it wasn't enough.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he curled up tighter, his body shaking from the pain. He didn't want to disturb anyone. He didn't want to seem weak. But in the silence of the night, all alone, Namhyuk felt more broken than ever before.
"I'm… I'm doing my best," he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. But the words felt hollow, and deep down, he wasn't sure if his best would ever be enough for Dae Jung.
Namhyuk, feeling crushed after everything with Dae Jung, tried to push away the overwhelming sadness that was gnawing at his heart. BTS hyungs!! They were his hyungs too, right? He told himself that it would be different with the BTS gang. Maybe he could find some peace, some warmth with them. He trusted them. He could share about his one sided love to them.He needed their company, their support.
With a shaky but hopeful breath, he made his way to the cell where they were staying. His heart fluttered a little, trying to convince himself that things would be better there. They would smile at him, maybe tease him like always, and he could forget about the pain, both physical and emotional. But as soon as he stepped through the door, his world shattered all over again.
"Yahh!! He is here...Where is Namjoon?" Yoongi's voice cut through the air, harsh and demanding. There was no warmth, no welcome. Just cold, sharp desperation.
Namhyuk blinked in confusion, his heart sinking. "Wh-what?"
"Namjoon.., Namhyuk," Seokjin's voice was tight, filled with an edge of frustration. "Where did Hana and Byung Ho hide Namjoon? We need to find him. Now. You remember what was the first thing you saw. It might give a clue. Anything that willl help find Namjoon. Please!!Huh? "
Namhyuk's stomach twisted painfully, the ache from last night reigniting, but this time, it wasn't just physical. His chest hurt. He felt a sharp pang deep in his heart, like someone had just punched him there.
"Why... Why are you asking me?" Namhyuk's voice came out small, weaker than he wanted. "I—I don't know. I haven't seen Namjoon. I told you before also. I don't even know—"
"Find out!" Taehyung's voice was loud, almost a shout. "You've been with Hana and Byung Ho. You must know something! Don't act clueless!"
Namhyuk stared at them, wide-eyed and hurt, feeling a cold rush of realization that maybe—just maybe—he wasn't even wanted here either. They weren't looking at him as Namhyuk. They were looking at him for answers about someone else—someone who wasn't him.
"Namhyuk, please," Jimin's voice softened, but the urgency in his eyes stayed the same. "We just need answers. We need Namjoon before… before we start believing things we don't want to believe."
The weight of their gazes crushed Namhyuk. It was clear. They didn't care about him, not really. They wanted Namjoon. The man whose shadow he could never escape, the brother he never even knew. They were desperate, confused, angry—and all of that was being hurled at him. He wasn't their priority. He wasn't what they needed.
"I... I'll ask around," Namhyuk mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll find out."
Without waiting for their response, Namhyuk turned and walked out of the cell, his mind spinning. The pain in his chest intensified with each step, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. They didn't need him—they needed Namjoon. And no matter how much he wanted to be enough, he never would be.
As soon as Namhyuk was out of sight, the BTS members collapsed into silence, their earlier anger replaced by a hollow sadness. Yoongi stared at the floor, his hands clenched into tight fists.
"Do you think we're making a mistake?" Hoseok asked quietly, his voice trembling with uncertainty.
"No," Yoongi muttered, though his voice lacked the usual confidence. "We need answers. That video… We can't ignore what we saw."
Seokjin's face was pale, his eyes filled with pain. "Namjoon wouldn't… he wouldn't do that, right?"
"I don't know anymore." Taehyung's voice cracked, the emotional toll evident. "I don't know what to believe. But we need to find Namjoon. We have to."
The room fell into an uneasy quiet, each of them lost in their thoughts, drowning in confusion and grief. They needed Namjoon. They needed answers. And in their desperation, they didn't realize the damage they were doing to the person they had just sent away.
Namhyuk, meanwhile, wandered aimlessly down the hallway, the weight of their words heavy on his shoulders. He wasn't Namjoon. He was Namhyuk. But why did it feel like that wasn't enough for anyone? Why did he feel like no matter where he went, no one really saw him? No one really needed him.
Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away. He couldn't break down, not now. Even though his body was still aching, his heart hurting, he had to keep going. He had to find out something about Namjoon. Maybe then, they would look at him differently. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so utterly invisible.
Namhyuk stumbled into his room, shutting the door behind him with trembling hands. His body felt heavy, his chest tight, but the weight on his heart was even more suffocating than the physical pain. The bruise where Hana abd that guard had kicked him had turned a deep shade of purple, spreading across his side, but he didn't care. He barely noticed it. What he did feel was the exhaustion deep inside his mind—like he was drowning in thoughts, lost in a place where nothing made sense anymore.
He lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind spinning with confusion and hurt. "Why doesn't anyone want me for me?" he whispered to himself. The question echoed in his head. Everyone around him had a purpose for keeping him close. Hana, Byung Ho, even the BTS gang—they all needed something from him, something he didn't know how to give. But what about him? Why couldn't anyone just care about him because he was Namhyuk? Because he was... him? Dae Jung and Min Ho care but they might also have a purpose.. right? And besides they only see him as a little helper or brother. Nothing more than that.
His eyes fluttered shut as a wave of tiredness washed over him, and suddenly, it was as if something deep inside him began to stir. His mind felt like it was being pulled in two directions. His head began to pound, and a loud ringing sound echoed through his skull, deafening and relentless. He clutched his temples, groaning in pain as flashes of something—memories, visions—rushed through his mind like a whirlwind.
He saw Seokjin's face first, clear and vivid, calling out a name that felt so familiar yet so foreign: "Namjoon!" The voice was filled with love, with desperation, but Namhyuk couldn't understand. Then the flashes came faster, like a film reel spinning out of control. He saw Namjoon, a man who looked exactly like him—so much like him it sent shivers down his spine. Namjoon with the BTS gang, all of them laughing, their faces glowing with happiness. But then, another image—a stark contrast to the laughter—a vision of Namjoon, crying all alone in the darkness, the weight of the world on his shoulders, his heart shattered.
And then came the most horrifying memory of all.
Namhyuk's breath caught in his throat as he saw Namjoon standing in the rain, his clothes drenched and his hands trembling. In his grip was a katana sword, its blade stained with blood. Before him lay a couple, their bodies lifeless, blood pooling around them. The look on Namjoon's face was something Namhyuk would never forget—anguish, pain and betrayal.
Namjoon had killed them.
The scene played over and over in Namhyuk's mind, like a nightmare he couldn't escape. He could feel the cold rain, hear the sound of Namjoon's heavy breathing, and see the devastation in his eyes as he looked down at the couple he had just killed. The memory felt too real, too intense. Was it a memory? A vision? Or something else?
Namhyuk gasped, jerking upright in bed. He was drenched in sweat, his heart racing, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His mind was still reeling from the images, the emotions. "What... What did I just see?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
Who was Namjoon? Why did he look exactly like him? And why did these memories—these horrible, painful memories—feel like they belonged to him?
Namhyuk's hands shook as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He felt lost, confused, and more alone than ever. Was Namjoon just a man who resembled him, or was there something more? Was he somehow connected to this person? Was *he* Namjoon?
But how could that be?
The thought sent chills down his spine, and for a moment, Namhyuk felt like he was suffocating under the weight of it all. He buried his face in his hands, trying to breathe, trying to steady himself, but the more he thought about it, the more the lines between him and Namjoon blurred. If Namjoon was out there, where was he? And if he wasn't... then who was Namhyuk?
The questions clawed at him, and no matter how much he tried to push them away, they wouldn't leave him alone. They lingered, haunting him, gnawing at the edges of his mind.
Namhyuk stared at the ceiling, lost and unsure of who he truly was anymore.
Next day,
The Syntek Company lobby was bustling with activity, workers and guards moving around. But the tension in the air grew palpable as Byung Ho entered, a tall figure beside him, masked and with a chilling gleam in his eyes. His steps were measured, but there was something unhinged about the way he carried himself. The mask was made of cold steel covering his eyes and nose only. The grin that stretched across his face was too wide, too unnatural, almost like he found humor in things no one else did
"This is my son, Lee Sang Ook," Byung Ho announced, his voice calm, yet there was an undercurrent of something darker in his tone. Dae Jung and Min Ho exchanged a quick glance, their instincts instantly kicking in. There was something off about the way Sang Ook's gaze lingered on everything and everyone, almost as if he were sizing them up in a way that was... unsettling.
Min Ho couldn't keep quiet. "I thought you were Park Byung Ho, not Lee," he said, his voice firm but curious. "How come your son is a Lee?"
Byung Ho chuckled, the sound low and almost sinister. "His mother was a Lee," he explained, his eyes not leaving Min Ho's. "He prefers to take her surname. It suits him, don't you think?"
Min Ho's jaw clenched, but he said nothing more. Something about this didn't sit right with him, and he could tell Dae Jung felt the same way.
Sang Ook, standing tall, gave a friendly wave. "Nice to meet you all! It's always good to meet new faces," he said, his voice high-pitched with an unsettling cheeriness. His gaze swept across the room, but it was too sharp, too focused. There was something calculating behind that friendly demeanor.
But Hana wasn't fooled for a second. She stepped forward, her lips curling in disgust. "Don't pretend to be some harmless friendly person, Sang Ook. I know exactly what you are—how twisted your mind is," she spat, her gaze piercing.
Sang Ook's friendly mask dropped in an instant. His lips twisted into a crazed grin, and he let out a bizarre, unsettling laugh that echoed through the room. "I was *trying* to play nice," he said, his tone suddenly erratic, his voice rising and falling like a madman's. "But if you don't want that, well... that's fine with me." His eyes glinted with something dangerous as he tilted his head to the side. "Be my enemy, then. I don't mind either way."
His words hung in the air, dripping with malice. Everyone felt it—the insanity lurking just beneath the surface of his strange laughter. He wasn't just a man with an odd demeanor; there was something deeply wrong with Lee Sang Ook. He was unpredictable, dangerous, and perhaps even more unhinged than anyone in the room had anticipated.
Min Ho tensed up beside Dae Jung, both of them feeling the weight of the danger Sang Ook posed. They had heard rumors about Byung Ho's son, but seeing him in person made it clear how unhinged he was. They needed to be careful—especially with Namhyuk. They'd have to keep him far away from this maniac.
Byung Ho simply watched the exchange with a smirk on his face, as if he were enjoying the tension rising in the room. He made no effort to calm his son, and that, more than anything, made the situation even more disturbing.
Sang Ook's eyes flitted back and forth between them all, his laughter slowly fading into a menacing silence. "So," he said, his voice now eerily calm, "who wants to be my friend... and who wants to be my enemy?"
No one responded. The silence in the room was thick with unease.
Just then, a few of Hana's loyal guards, standing by the side, snickered among themselves, clearly unimpressed by Sang Ook. One of them, a tall, muscular man, shook his head and muttered, "This guy's not capable of making friends or enemies. He's just a joke."
Another guard chimed in, smirking, "What kind of psycho can't even intimidate us? He's all talk."
Hana, sensing what was coming, shot them a sharp look, her expression shifting from cold to concerned in a split second. "Enough," she hissed, but it was too late.
Before anyone could react, Sang Ook's grin faded into something terrifyingly blank. With one swift, almost mechanical motion, he pulled out a sleek, silver gun from his jacket. The sound of the safety clicking off was deafening in the sudden silence of the room.
Bang. Bang.
Two clean shots, each hitting their mark with deadly precision. The guards barely had time to register what had happened before they crumpled to the floor, blood pooling around their heads. The silence that followed was suffocating, the horror of the moment sinking in as everyone froze, wide-eyed, staring at the lifeless bodies.
Dae Jung and Min Ho felt their stomachs churn. This wasn't just a psychopath. This was a cold-blooded killer.
Sang Ook slowly lowered the gun, his grin creeping back onto his face as if nothing had happened. He turned back to the room, his gaze flitting between the horrified faces around him. "Now," he said, his voice light and playful, "anyone else want to make a joke?"
Hana didn't move, her face unreadable, though her eyes held a flicker of something—fear, perhaps, or maybe regret for not stopping him sooner.
Dae Jung swallowed hard, his mind racing. This wasn't just a problem for them; it was a danger for Namhyuk, too. Min Ho's hand clenched into a fist at his side, his expression grim. They couldn't let Namhyuk get anywhere near this lunatic.
"We need to warn Namhyuk," Min Ho whispered urgently to Dae Jung, keeping his voice low as Sang Ook's insane laughter echoed through the room. "He can't be around this guy."
Dae Jung nodded, his eyes still locked on Sang Ook. "Yeah. We need to keep him safe... whatever it takes."
As they quickly left the room, the weight of what they had just witnessed pressed down on them. They had a psychopath in their midst, and now their little brother's safety was in greater danger than ever.
In Namhyuk's room, he was barely holding on. His exhaustion, the pain in his body, and the overwhelming weight of everything felt like it was crashing down on him. But he couldn't stop now. He had to fulfill the promise he made to the BTS gang, despite the fact that he was physically and mentally drained. His mind was muddled, but he pushed himself forward, making his way to Hana's room.
As he opened the door, his tired eyes immediately fell on a figure standing near Hana. A new presence—a man with a mask, cold steel mask. Namhyuk's breath caught in his throat. Something about that mask sent a shiver down his spine, a deep sense of familiarity he couldn't place. His heart raced, but not because of fear—no, it was something more profound. And then, it hit him.
This mask wasn't familiar to him. It was familiar to Namjoon. He stood there, frozen, staring at the masked figure as memories flickered in and out of his mind, abstract and fragmented. But nothing concrete came to him, just a nagging feeling that this mask held significance for Namjoon.
As Namhyuk was lost in thought, the man, Lee Sang Ook, noticed his stare. With a sly grin, Sang Ook approached Namhyuk, his eyes glinting behind the steel mask. His voice was teasing, with a strange mix of charm and madness. "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're mesmerized by me already," Sang Ook said, his words laced with flirtation.
Namhyuk shook his head, his focus returning. Ignoring Sang Ook's unsettling tone, he replied firmly, "I'm not interested. I already have someone I love."
Hearing this, Sang Ook's playful demeanor shifted in an instant. His hand twitched as if he wanted to strike Namhyuk,his entire body tensing with anger. But after a long moment, he relaxed, though his eyes betrayed his calm exterior. His voice, now dripping with madness, asked, "Who is it? Who dares to take your heart?"
Namhyuk, unfazed by the question, responded coldly, "It doesn't concern you. But you should stay away from me."
Sang Ook's expression darkened, but before he could respond, Namhyuk turned his attention to Hana. "I need to talk to you. Privately."
Sang Ook, feeling brushed aside, stood there like a statue, his eyes burning with unspoken fury. Before Hana could answer, Dae Jung entered the room, holding some documents. He handed them to Hana, his voice calm as he said, "Here's the summary for this month's income."
Sang Ook, still seething from Namhyuk's rejection, took his anger out on Dae Jung. With a sudden, violent push, he shoved Dae Jung hard, sending him stumbling backward. Namhyuk's reflexes kicked in, and he caught Dae Jung in his arms just before he could hit the ground. But the impact was still there. Dae Jung's elbow collided with Namhyuk's already bruised side, sending a sharp, intense pain shooting through his body.
Namhyuk's face twitched in agony, but he bit his lip, refusing to make a sound. He didn't want Dae Jung to feel guilty for causing him pain. He could see the psychotic glint in Sang Ook's eyes as he watched them. It was as if the sight of Namhyuk suffering pleased him.
Dae Jung, unaware of Namhyuk's pain, thanked him for catching him and handed the documents to Hana. "Are you alright?" Dae Jung asked Namhyuk, concern in his voice. "Why are you here alone?"
Namhyuk forced a small smile, hiding the searing pain. "I needed to talk to Hana about something. You should go rest," he said, his voice strained but steady.
Dae Jung hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Make sure to rest early too, Hyuk-ah." With that, he left the room, completely unaware of the internal struggle Namhyuk was enduring.
As soon as Dae Jung was gone, Sang Ook stepped closer to Namhyuk, his voice low and filled with venom. "Is he the one in your heart?" he asked, his words biting. "But he doesn't seem to care about you like a lover. How pathetic."
Namhyuk's eyes narrowed. "It's none of your concern. Turning towards Hana," I will wait outside. We need to talk. "
Without waiting for a response, Namhyuk turned and walked out of the room, his body trembling from the exertion of holding in the pain. The second he left, Sang Ook's facade shattered completely. His face twisted in rage, and with a loud growl, he grabbed a chair and violently hurled it at the wall, the sound echoing through the room. The force of the impact left a deep dent in the wall, and the chair splintered into pieces.
Byung Ho and Hana exchanged uneasy glances. Even they, who had dealt with dangerous individuals before, were unnerved by the raw madness Sang Ook displayed. He wasn't just angry—he was unhinged.
Sang Ook stood there, panting, his body shaking with fury. "Why…" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. "Why can't it be me? Why is it always someone else? Why?"
His words, filled with anguish and insanity, hung in the air, leaving everyone in the room with an unsettling sense that this was far from over. Sang Ook wasn't going to let this go. He was a ticking time bomb, and no one knew when he would explode.
The BTS and Cinq gang sat together, their faces marked with confusion, anger, and deep sadness. The room was tense, each of them lost in their own thoughts, haunted by the video they had seen. In it, Namjoon—someone they trusted—was shown killing their hyung and unni, the beloved parents of Joon-wo. The footage was brutal, and it was hard to believe that the person they had once considered family could be responsible for such a horrifying act.
But Namjoon wasn't there with them anymore. He had disappeared without a trace, and in his place, Namhyuk had shown up. The appearance of Namhyuk made them even more bewildered.
Jimin looked around the room, his eyes filled with determination. "Namjoon disappeared, and Namhyuk showed up. That's not a coincidence. We need to confront Namhyuk, get some answers. Maybe he knows more than he's letting on. In the morning he did not say a word and just left. "
Jin's voice was calm but resolute. "Tonight, when Namhyuk comes to serve dinner, we'll apologize to him. We lashed out at him without thinking, but we need to ask him what he knows about Namjoon. We can't make any assumptions without the full story."
Taehyung added quietly, "Whatever happens, we can't give up. We need to stick together, find Namjoon, and figure out who killed Joon-wo's parents. We owe it to them."
Yoongi nodded in agreement, his voice firm. "We'll get to the bottom of this. And if Namjoon really did this… he'll pay for what he's done. But we need to find him first."
The gang exchanged looks of silent agreement. They were still deeply shaken by the video, by the loss of Namjoon, and by the appearance of Namhyuk. But now, they had a plan. They would apologize to Namhyuk for their harshness and try to find out what he knew about Namjoon's disappearance and the video. And no matter what, they wouldn't stop until they discovered the truth behind the murders.
As night fell, they prepared themselves mentally for the confrontation with Namhyuk, hoping that it would bring them one step closer to understanding the mystery that had torn their world apart.
Namhyuk, after the harsh treatment from the BTS gang and the painful conversation with Dae Jung, stood outside Hana's room. His body was aching, especially the spot on his stomach that had turned purple from the repeated kicks. But his mind was more exhausted than his body. He had to know the truth about Namjoon. The BTS gang was desperate for answers, and even though he didn't fully understand what had happened, he knew he couldn't keep running from the questions that haunted him.
He had been waiting for fifteen minutes. After that Sang ook and Byung Ho came out of the room and went. Sang Ook gave Namhyuk a creepy smile but Namhyuk just stared at him.
"Come in," Hana's voice came from the other side, sharp as always. Namhyuk hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open. As he stepped in, he saw her sitting by her desk, writing something. Her presence was always unnerving, especially after everything he had learned recently.
Hana," he called out softly, his voice quiet but firm.
She turned to him, her sharp eyes immediately narrowing in suspicion. "What is it, Namhyuk?"
Namhyuk hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He could feel the tension between them as if it was a solid presence in the room. Finally, he blurted, "What did you do to Namjoon? Where is he now? "
Hana's expression instantly shifted. Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a brief second, Namhyuk could see a flicker of fear pass through her features. But then she composed herself, narrowing her gaze at him.
"Namjoon?" she repeated, as if testing the name. "Did you remember something?"
Namhyuk shook his head. "No… but I keep getting flashes. Memories that aren't mine, but they feel like mine. I… I saw things, Hana. And the BTS gang, they're also need...I mean they were also their in memories.I need to know where Namjoon is." Namhyuk can't tell Hana that he is having meetings with BTS gang on daily basis. Who knows what trouble she will bring for him and them!!
Hana's face paled slightly, but she quickly recovered. She stepped toward him, her movements calculated and controlled, like a predator approaching its prey.
"Namhyuk," she said, her voice low and serious. "If you remembered everything, if you really knew where Namjoon was, you wouldn't be here. You wouldn't be alive."
Namhyuk's heart skipped a beat. Her words sent a chill down his spine. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Hana looked him in the eyes, her expression cold and unyielding. "If Namjoon could be brought back, it would cost you your life. Namhyuk, Namjoon is gone. You are Namhyuk now. You need to accept that. Don't go digging into things you don't understand."
Namhyuk was shocked. The idea that trying to uncover Namjoon's whereabouts could result in his death was something he hadn't considered. He had been so focused on helping the BTS gang, on figuring out who Namjoon was and what happened to him, that he hadn't realized the danger it posed to him personally.
Why?" he asked, almost pleading. "Why does bringing Namjoon back mean I have to die? Why is everything so messed up?"
Hana sighed, her cold exterior cracking slightly. "Because Namjoon isn't just gone, Namhyuk. He's erased. And you are what's left. You have a new identity, a new role to play. Namjoon's memories, his life… it's all buried. If you try to dig it up, it could destroy you. Forget about Namjoon. Forget about the past. Help me instead, and you can rule the hybrid kingdom."
Namhyuk shook his head, stepping back. "I don't want to rule anything. I never asked for this."
Hana's face hardened again. "You don't have a choice. You either play the role you were given, or you end up like Namjoon—lost forever."
Namhyuk stared at her, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't believe how cold and manipulative she was. She didn't care about him—she only cared about her vision of a hybrid kingdom. And Namjoon? Namjoon was just a tool to her, just like he was now.
Feeling a wave of nausea and exhaustion wash over him, Namhyuk turned on his heel and left the room without another word. As he descended into the basement to prepare food for the BTS gang and the rest in other cells, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. He felt empty, like a hollow shell. He had no appetite, but the rumbles in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything all day, but the exhaustion and confusion were too overwhelming for him to even think about food
He tried to focus on the task at hand, preparing the food and sliding it through the small gaps in each cell. But his mind kept returning to Hana's words. "You wouldn't be alive." What did she mean by that? Was retrieving Namjoon's memories really a death sentence?Was he really Namhyuk, or was he just a shell of who Namjoon used to be?
And his bts hyungs...They had been so harsh with him, demanding answers he didn't have, blaming him for things he couldn't control. He felt like an outsider, someone who didn't belong. He never felt wanted, not by Hana, not by the hybrids, and now, not even by the BTS gang.
When he reached the last cell—the one holding the BTS gang—he hesitated. He knew they were waiting for answers, but he didn't have any. Not yet. Still, he didn't want to disappoint them.
Quickly, Namhyuk scribbled a note on a piece of paper: "I'll find out how to bring Namjoon back within two days. Please give me time." He folded the note and slipped it along with the food through the gap in the cell door. He made a promise that he'd find a way to bring Namjoon back. He didn't know if he could keep that promise, but he felt he owed it to them after everything. They deserved answers, and he was willing to risk it all.
Namhyuk's body was screaming in pain, his stomach feeling like it was on fire. He needed rest. He needed peace.
As he turned to leave, his breath hitched as he saw Dae Jung standing at the entrance of the basement, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. There was a burning anger in his gaze, something Namhyuk had never seen so openly directed at him before. His stomach twisted, a feeling of dread settling deep within him.
"What are you doing?" Dae Jung's voice was low, but the anger in it was unmistakable. He took a few steps closer, his posture rigid, his presence looming.
Namhyuk opened his mouth to explain, but Dae Jung cut him off, voice rising. "I asked you a question, Namhyuk. What are you doing? Passing messages to the enemy?" His tone was venomous, laced with disappointment.
Namhyuk swallowed hard, trying to calm his racing heart. "I'm just trying to help them. They're confused... lost without Namjoon. I promised them I'd find a way—"
"Help them?" Dae Jung's laugh was sharp, cold. "Are you out of your mind? They are humans, our enemies ,they hurt us and you sided with them, you want to help them?"
Namhyuk blinked, his throat tightening. "It's not like that... I just—"
"Shut up!" Dae Jung's voice cracked like a whip, and Namhyuk flinched. "You think they'll care about you? You think they'll see you as anything other than a tool, something to use and discard when they're done? You're nothing to them, Namhyuk. They'll toss you aside once they get what they want!! "
Namhyuk took a step back, pain shooting through his body from the still unhealed bruises. "I'm not a tool. I can't be used by anyone. I just... I want to do the right thing."
"The right thing?" Dae Jung spat, his eyes flashing with fury. "You think helping them is the right thing? You think betraying your own kind, betraying me and Min Ho, is the right thing?"
Namhyuk's heart ached. All he had ever wanted was to be of use, to help those around him, but no one seemed to understand that. His voice trembled as he spoke, "I'm not betraying anyone. I just... I don't want to hurt anyone. I want to protect everyone."
Dae Jung's eyes darkened. "Protect?" He stepped closer, towering over Namhyuk. "You think this is about protection? You're protecting the same people who killed our entire clan. The humans- all are same selfish and greedy. You're protecting the enemy. I trusted you, Namhyuk. I thought you understood what it meant to stand with your kind, to be loyal to your family. But you're just like Namjoon. Knowing that humans killed our clan, he still sided with them . He betrayed us and you are doing the same."
Namhyuk felt like he had been slapped. Dae Jung's words cut deeper than any physical pain he had endured. "I'm not like Namjoon," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I would never betray you."
Dae Jung's lips curled into a sneer. "You're worse than him. At least he made it clear where his loyalties were. You, though... you pretend to care about us, about me and Min Ho, but in the end, you're just another traitor. You're not worthy of being considered family."
Namhyuk's vision blurred with unshed tears. He had never wanted to be a traitor. He had never wanted to choose sides. All he wanted was for everyone to be safe, to be at peace. But it seemed like no matter what he did, no one understood him.
Dae Jung's voice softened, but it wasn't comforting. It was full of cold, bitter disappointment. "You're nothing, Namhyuk. Not to them, and not to us. You're just someone standing in the way of what needs to be done. I can't believe I ever thought you were different."
Namhyuk's hands trembled at his sides. His chest ached, not just from the physical pain but from the emotional weight of Dae Jung's words. He looked up at Dae Jung, tears brimming in his eyes. "I just... I wanted to help. I wanted to do something good."
"Help?" Dae Jung scoffed. "If you wanted to help, you wouldn't be here sneaking around, passing notes to the enemy. You wouldn't be trying to bring back Namjoon, the same person who left and betrayed us for dead. You've crossed the line, Namhyuk."
Namhyuk shook his head, his voice shaky. "I'm trying... trying to make things right."
"Make things right?" Dae Jung's laugh was cruel, cutting through the air like ice. "You've done nothing but make things worse. I don't know what I was thinking, trusting you, caring about you. You're just another mistake."
The words hit Namhyuk like a punch to the gut, and he stumbled back, clutching his chest. His heart felt like it was being torn apart. He looked up at Dae Jung, hoping for some sign of understanding, some sign that this was all just a terrible misunderstanding.
But there was nothing.
Dae Jung's face was cold, hard. He had already made up his mind.
Namhyuk's voice broke as he spoke, barely more than a whisper. "Hyung, I—"
"Get out of my sight," Dae Jung snapped, turning his back on Namhyuk. "Before I do something I'll regret."
Namhyuk stood there, frozen, his body trembling. He wanted to say something, to explain, to beg for Dae Jung to understand, but the words wouldn't come. His vision blurred as tears finally spilled over, and with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, the weight of Dae Jung's words crushing him with every step.
As Namhyuk disappeared down the corridor, Dae Jung clenched his fists, his jaw tight. His anger hadn't subsided, but there was a flicker of something else—regret, doubt. He slowly went back to his room.
Min Ho stood by the window, his back turned to the door, watching something on his phone, but his mind wasn't on the screen. He could sense Dae Jung's turmoil from the moment he had entered the room. He didn't need to look to know something had happened. Sliding the phone into his pocket, he took a deep breath and finally turned around, only to see Dae Jung on the floor, silently crying, his head hung low as he shook with emotion.
With a heavy sigh, Min Ho walked over to him and knelt down. "Dae Jung..." His voice was soft, filled with concern. Gently, he scooped his lover up, lifting him in a bridal carry, and placed him on the bed. Dae Jung's body was tense, but he didn't resist.
Min Ho lay down beside him, stretching his arm out to pull Dae Jung into a loose embrace, but Dae Jung didn't respond. His face was buried in his hands, and his shoulders shook with silent sobs.
For a while, there was only the sound of Dae Jung's quiet crying. Then, through the choked sobs, Dae Jung's voice broke. "I... I don't want anything to happen to Namhyuk. I just... I want him to be okay, Min Ho."
Min Ho felt a pang in his chest hearing Dae Jung's words, the desperation in his voice. "He'll be okay," Min Ho whispered, though he knew it wasn't that simple.
Dae Jung wiped at his eyes, still sniffling. "I don't know what I was thinking. I got so angry... I lashed out at him. But the truth is, I'm scared. I'm so scared, Min Ho. What if... what if something bad happens to him? What if he ends up like Namjoon?
Min Ho tightened his grip around Dae Jung, his own throat tightening. "Namhyuk's not like Namjoon," he said softly, though he knew it was more to reassure Dae Jung than himself.
Dae Jung shook his head. "I thought I could protect Namjoon too. Back when I was investigating him, when we first crossed paths, I liked him, you know? I thought of him like a little brother. I thought maybe... maybe I could keep him safe, keep him with us. But he chose them... he chose the humans over us." His voice broke again, and he buried his face in Min Ho's chest. "I didn't want to fight him. I didn't want to be his enemy. I thought, even after everything, I thought maybe I could persuade him... if Hana left him alive, I could convince him to join us, to be with his own kind. But... he didn't choose us. He never did.
Dae Jung lay beside Min Ho, staring blankly at the ceiling.
"Do you remember?" Dae Jung began softly, his voice thick with emotion. "Do you remember when we decided to help Namjoon escape from Hana's clutches?"
Min Ho nodded silently, his gaze fixed on Dae Jung, knowing exactly what he was referring to. It was a memory that had haunted both of them, a decision that had nearly cost them everything.
"We talked for hours," Dae Jung continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "We weighed every option, every risk. I knew… I *knew* that helping Namjoon meant going against Hana's orders, but I couldn't stand the thought of him being trapped. I thought he was like a little brother. A good person. A good hybrid, even if he sided with the humans. And you—" He paused, turning his head to look at Min Ho. "You agreed. You wanted him to be free, too."
Min Ho's jaw tightened as the memories came flooding back. "I did," he said, his voice low. "I saw the good in Namjoon too, even when we were supposed to be enemies. We'd spent so much time investigating him, studying his powers. I thought if he were given a real choice, he might join us. But… we both knew Hana would never allow that. So we had to make our own plans."
Dae Jung gave a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet room. "I purposely got defeated by the Cinq team that night, just to leave behind that mini teleporter. I knew it was the only way Namjoon and the others could escape. And when you attacked, it gave them the opening they needed."
"I let them go," Min Ho added, his eyes clouding with the memory. "I deliberately held back during the fight. When I struck Namjoon with the Soul Destroyer, it wasn't even the real one. It was a fake."
Dae Jung blinked, surprised. "A fake?"
Min Ho nodded. "I did not tell you about this part. But yes when they forced me to use the soul destroyer ,I in a night made a fake one. I knew the real Soul Destroyer would have ended him. So I switched it out at the last moment. The fake one caused him pain, yes, but only for an hour. After that, he would have been fine. I wanted them to escape. We both did."
Dae Jung sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "And it worked. They got away. For a moment, I thought… I thought we'd actually done it. That we'd saved him. That we'd given him a chance at freedom."
Min Ho's expression darkened. "But Namjoon… of all places, he went back to Hana. He went to her house himself."
"I still don't understand why," Dae Jung muttered, frustration lacing his voice. "He had his chance. We gave him an out. Why did he go back to her? Of all places, he choose Hana's place. Did he trust her that much?
Min Ho shook his head, equally puzzled. "Madam Hana herself is very cunning and shrewd. She must have gained his trust somehow,hiding her true self. But what shocked me the most was when Hana brought the BTS gang and Namjoon to the company herself."
Dae Jung's fists clenched at the memory. "She dragged them all back. And Namjoon… she killed him. Or, at least, the version of him we knew. She brought Namhyuk to life instead."
Min Ho's face hardened, his tone bitter. "I remember that day clearly. She was so calm about it. She didn't even acknowledge that we had disobeyed her by letting them go. It's like she knew, and it didn't matter to her because she had already planned something far worse."
Dae Jung turned his head, locking eyes with Min Ho. "It was the first time we disobeyed her, Min Ho. And yet… it was all for nothing. We thought we were saving Namjoon, but we only delayed the inevitable."
Min Ho nodded slowly. "I didn't strike Namjoon with a killing blow. I wanted to give him a fighting chance. But Hana—she had already decided his fate. She had the power to bring Namhyuk to life, and she did it. We went against her, and for what?"
"Can Namjoon be revived? Is it possible... After all Namhyuk was brought back after so many years, so can Namjoon also be brought back? " Asks Dae Jung with fear in his eyes.
"Don't know.. But if he can, I hope neither Namjoon nor Namhyuk is left behind." Said Min Ho hoping it would go alright.
"Hope it happens....But....now I... I see Namhyuk doing the same thing, making the same choices." Dae Jung's voice was hoarse, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. "I see him helping them, passing notes, and I just... I'm afraid. What if something bad happens to him, Min Ho? What if he ends up like Namjoon—gone, or worse?"
Min Ho reached up and stroked Dae Jung's hair, his heart heavy with sorrow. "Namhyuk isn't Namjoon, my love," he said softly, his voice gentle. "This time, things are different. Namhyuk is part of our family now. He's with us. We won't let anyone harm him, I promise. We'll protect him, no matter what."
Dae Jung let out a shaky breath, his tears still flowing. "But what if... what if we can't? What if he chooses them, just like Namjoon did? What if we lose him too?"
Min Ho's heart clenched. He didn't have the answers, but he knew one thing for certain. "We won't lose him," he said firmly, holding Dae Jung closer. "Namhyuk is with us. We'll make sure he knows that. He's part of our family now. We'll protect him, no matter what happens."
"I'm not angry because I think Namhyuk is a traitor… I'm angry because I'm afraid. I don't want to lose him too, like we lost Namjoon. I don't want him to be hurt or lost in the middle of this mess."
Min Ho's heart clenched. He kissed Dae Jung's forehead, pulling him close. "I understand, love. But you have to trust Namhyuk too. He's confused, yes. But he's not Namjoon. He's still finding his way. We have to guide him… not push him away."
Dae Jung's eyes filled with pain again, his voice trembling. "And now, with Namhyuk… I don't want him to meet the same end as Namjoon. But at the same time, I'm scared, Min Ho. I'm scared that if we don't follow Hana's orders, we'll lose everything. She saved our lives once, and now we're indebted to her. But how long can we keep doing this?"
Min Ho reached out, cupping Dae Jung's face, his touch firm but gentle. "I know you're afraid, love. I am too. But this time, it's different. Namhyuk is with us. He's part of our family now. We'll protect him. Even if we have to disobey Hana again, we'll keep him safe."
Dae Jung leaned into Min Ho's touch, his eyes closing as fresh tears slipped down his cheeks. "I just don't want to lose him… like we lost Namjoon. I don't want him to make the same mistakes, to suffer the same fate."
Min Ho pressed his forehead against Dae Jung's, his voice a soothing whisper. "We won't let that happen. We'll guide him, protect him. No matter what."
For a moment, they lay there in silence, their hearts heavy with shared sorrow and fear. The weight of their past decisions and the uncertainty of the future pressed down on them, but in that quiet moment, they found solace in each other's presence.
Neither of them was fully right or fully wrong. They were caught in a mess of their own emotions, torn between loyalty to Hana and their love for Namhyuk. The lines between right and wrong had blurred long ago, leaving them both wounded, unsure of the path ahead.
But one thing was clear—they wouldn't let Namhyuk face the same fate as Namjoon. Not if they could help it.
In that tangled web of emotions, neither Dae Jung nor Namhyuk was fully wrong. They were both lost, unsure of the right path. It was a mess of fear, anger, and love, leaving them both wounded and vulnerable in ways they couldn't yet untangle.
While Dae Jung and Min Ho lay together, vowing to protect Namhyuk, in another corner of their world, Lee Sang Ook was making silent but deadly moves of his own.
In a dimly lit room, with only the flicker of candlelight casting shadows on the walls, Lee Sang Ook stood before a series of portraits. Each portrait was hung delicately on the wall, and from each one, strings of different colors extended like lifelines—orange, green, white, purple, and red. The portraits depicted the faces of those tangled in this complex web: the BTS gang, Namjoon, and Joon Wo. They stared back at Lee Sang Ook, their expressions frozen in time, but each string held a significance—a tether that bound them to their fates.
Lee Sang Ook's fingers traced over the strings lightly, almost reverently, before he reached for the green string first. He held it in his hands, observing it with a deep sigh, before slicing it clean with a sharp blade.
"Green," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. "The string of forgiveness. The bond between Namjoon and his gang—the willingness to forgive, to forget past betrayals. That thread is severed now. The past will no longer be forgiven."
He looked up at Namjoon's portrait, a slight frown on his face. The green string had once symbolized the unspoken forgiveness between Namjoon and the BTS gang—despite everything that had happened, there was always the hope of reconciliation, of understanding. But with this string cut, that hope was gone.
Lee Sang Ook's eyes then flicked to the white string. He reached for it next, taking his time as he wrapped his fingers around it. He smiled slightly before pulling his blade through it in one swift motion.
"White... the string of purity, trust. This one is severed too," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Any trust that remained between Namjoon and the BTS gang—it's broken now. Irreparable. Namjoon will never fully be one of them, and they will never trust him as they did before. "
The white string had symbolized the innocent trust that Namjoon had build with the BTS gang, despite their confusion and anger. It was fragile, but it was there—a sign of hope that maybe, just maybe, Namjoon could be accepted by them. But now, with the white string gone, any chance of that trust solidifying had disappeared.
Lee Sang Ook stepped back for a moment, examining his work. The orange string was already cut—the first to go. He remembered slicing it with cold precision, knowing it represented the bond of clarity, of truth. The moment that string was cut, it ensured that the truth would remain obscured for everyone. No one, not even Namjoon, would be able to discern the full truth of his origin, or the circumstances that led to his own disappearance.
Now, only two strings remained: the purple and the red. Lee Sang Ook's gaze lingered on them, his fingers twitching as if itching to slice through them.
"Purple," he whispered, eyes narrowing on the string that connected the portrait of Namjoon with the BTS gang. "The string of loyalty and love. The bond that kept them together all these years. It's fraying, but not yet broken. Soon, though… very soon."
The purple string was perhaps the strongest of them all, representing the deep-rooted loyalty between Namjoon and his gang, the brotherhood and love they shared. Even in the face of betrayal, that loyalty had held firm, but Lee Sang Ook knew it wouldn't last. If he cut this string, it would break their bond forever, leaving them fractured and alone.
Finally, there was the red string—the most dangerous of all. Lee Sang Ook's hand hovered over it, but he didn't touch it yet.
"Red," he murmured, almost in awe. "The string of life, of fate and destiny . The blood that ties them all together. The moment this string is cut… everything will fall apart. Namjoon's death, Namhyuk's existence, the BTS gang's survival—it all hangs on this one thread."
The red string was the final lifeline, the connection between life and death, between betrayal and salvation. If this string were severed, there would be no going back. Everything would unravel, plunging everyone into chaos.
Lee Sang Ook chuckled darkly as he turned away from the strings, leaving the purple and red ones intact for now. He had cut enough for the moment. There was no need to sever them all at once. He had time—time to watch the destruction unfold, to see how long the remaining strings could hold before they, too, would snap under the pressure.
With a flick of his blade, Lee Sang Ook extinguished the candles, leaving the room in darkness. The portraits of BTS, Namjoon, and Joon Wo hung silently on the walls, the cut strings dangling lifelessly.