The rolling door groaned halfway up before the motor sputtered and died. Louis crawled beneath it like a corpse dragging itself out of the dirt. He stumbled twice, his legs refusing to accept the ground was steady. His face was a ruin-blood dried black in the cracks of his skin, streaking him like shattered porcelain glued back wrong.

Step by step, he dragged himself down the silent corridor until he reached Taehyung's office.

Inside, the air was too still. Taehyung sat behind his black marble desk, the lamp's golden glow splitting his face in two-half calm, half shadow. He didn't move. He didn't need to.

Louis braced himself on the doorframe, ribs rattling with every breath. "Boss..." His voice cracked apart, bleeding from his throat. "They took her. They took Miso."

The world collapsed into a single soundless point. The hum of the AC vanished. The shuffling of men at the corners of the room disappeared. Even the ticking clock gave way.

Taehyung's hands froze mid-motion. His pulse did not.

"What." One word. Flat. Stone. A death sentence with syllables.

Louis swallowed hard, each movement scraping fire through his throat. "On the way to the mall... we were ambushed."

"How." Not a question. A command. A verdict.

Louis swayed, his body threatening to fold. One of the guards stepped forward to steady him, but a single glance from Taehyung pinned the man where he stood. Louis had to speak for himself.

"A box van cut us off. Foam on the grille-engine stalled. Gas through the cabin vents." His voice trembled, but he forced the confession out. "I fought, Boss. I fought until I couldn't breathe-"

Taehyung was already moving. He strode to the monitors, fingers slicing across the keyboard, pulling logs, triangulating signals. Dead. Miso's tracker-offline. The car GPS-scrambled. Blackout.

His jaw flexed once, twice. Then his voice, low and venomous: "Why isn't it working?"

Louis coughed hard, iron dripping from his mouth. "I-I don't know, Boss."

"You didn't check before leaving?" The calmness in Taehyung's tone was worse than a scream.

Louis's shoulders sagged. "No, sir."

Slowly, Taehyung crossed the room. His steps weren't loud, weren't fast-just inevitable. He caught Louis's chin with two fingers, tilting his battered face toward the light. Split skin, clean cuts, shallow but deliberate. Not chaos. Professionals.

"Behind the ear," Taehyung murmured, studying him. "Twice. Who was it?"

"Gloves. Masks. No faces." Louis's eyes shone with helpless fire. "One spoke. Accent local. Not mercenary. He... he knew how we move."

Taehyung's expression didn't shift, but his silence weighed like stone. He let go, wiping his fingers on Louis's ruined jacket like his touch had been soiled.

"Plates?"

"Taped. Couldn't see. But-" Louis coughed, blood slicking his lips. "The rear door had a scratch. Left panel. Fresh. Looked like it clipped a post." His shaking hand traced the angle in the air.

Taehyung's nod was sharp. A checkmark in a ledger already burning.

"Street?"

"Cheonggyecheon feeder. They forced us down the service road by the jjimjilbang. Camera blind, twenty meters. Like someone marked it out in advance."

The guards held their breath, as if air itself could ignite Taehyung.

"How did they take her?"

Louis's lips trembled. "Needle. Shoulder. She fought-Boss, she fought like hell. But they were too fast." His voice cracked. "Too fast."

For the smallest fraction of a moment, Taehyung's gaze dropped. His chest heaved once, silent and sharp, before his eyes cut back up, sharper than blades.

"What did you bring me?"

Louis blinked, lost, then fumbled in his shredded jacket. He pulled out a strip of torn fabric, stiff with blood, stinking of menthol and bleach. A single coarse, badly dyed hair clung to it.

"I bit him," Louis rasped. "Tore this off his arm."

Taehyung plucked the cloth between his fingers. One inhale was enough. Menthol. Cheap liquor sweat. Street thug. Local muscle. Nothing polished. Nothing foreign.

He handed it off to one of the men without breaking his stare on Louis. "Run it. Traffic cams from Jongno to Seodaemun. Find me a box van with a scratched panel. Check audio sensors-pull tire noise when they turned. Go."

The man vanished like smoke.

Louis staggered, knees buckling. "Boss, I-"

"You'll tell me when the gas hit." Taehyung's voice sliced through him. "You'll tell me why the windows weren't sealed when I drilled it into your skull a hundred times. You'll tell me why my woman is somewhere cold right now instead of here."

Louis's shame burned hotter than his wounds. "I cracked it to shoot," he whispered, the words grinding him hollow. "I thought-"

"You thought you could outshoot a canister." Taehyung's tone was softer than mercy, sharper than execution. "You thought wrong."

The silence that followed crawled like live wire under the skin of every man in the room.

Taehyung's gaze swept the office. Counting guns. Counting minutes. Counting the oxygen Miso didn't have.

He pulled his phone, voice flat as glass. "Get everyone in my office. Yang-you too." He ended the call and finally turned back to Louis, looking past the blood, into the hollow pit where men bury their worst mistakes.

"We're not finished."

Louis straightened, body screaming. "Yes, Boss."

"You'll retrace every meter. Smell the air. Find where the wind shifted. Find their blind spot."

"I will."

"And after we bring her home..." Taehyung's voice dipped into something cold as winter, "...you and I will sit with a gun between us. We'll map your mistake. And we'll decide what it costs."

Louis bowed-not a gesture, but a collapse. "Yes."

Taehyung's hand came down on the back of his neck. Not comfort. Not forgiveness. The way a man steadies a mauled dog he still intends to unleash.

"She's breathing." His voice was a law, carved into the marrow of the room. "She'll keep breathing. Now go."

Louis staggered out, leaving commas of blood across the concrete. No period. No ending yet.

When the door shut, the office seemed colder.

Taehyung opened his drawer. Drew a pistol. Checked the chamber. He set it on the desk like a relic, reverent, as though laying down a saint. Or a lover. Or a promise of death.

ⒹⒶⓇⓀ ⒾⓃⓃⓄⒸⒺⓃⒸⒺ

The office door slammed open without a knock.

Yang entered first-expression like carved stone-followed closely by Jimin, then Jungkook, Hoseok, Seokjin, Yoongi, and finally Namjoon, who closed the door behind them with deliberate calm.

The air shifted immediately. Seven men in one room carried weight-sharp, heavy, dangerous. All eyes locked onto Taehyung.

He wasn't sitting. His steps carved restless grooves into the rug, shoulders coiled tight like a predator forced into a cage. Daniel stood silently against the wall, gaze hard, while Louis sat slumped in a chair. His face was a map of bruises-swollen cheek, lip split, blood dried along his chin. His wrists were cuffed to the armrest, veins bulging against the strain.

"TaeHyung-what happened?" Jimin's voice broke the silence first. He was tense, scanning the room, gaze flicking between his best friend and the bloodied man restrained before them. "Why'd you call all of us here like this?"

Taehyung stopped. Turned. His eyes were rimmed red-not with weakness, but with something that lived between grief and rage, smoldering like a storm contained in glass. When he spoke, his voice was steady, low, and lethal.

"They took Miso."

The silence that followed was an implosion.

Jaws clenched. Knuckles whitened. The oxygen thinned as if the room itself held its breath.

Yoongi's brow furrowed, sharp eyes narrowing. "What do you mean they took her?" His tone was quiet, but it cut through the air like wire. "Who?"

"We don't know yet," Daniel answered tightly, his voice low but heavy with guilt.

Hoseok's hand went to his mouth, disbelief flashing in his eyes. Jungkook blinked once, twice-like he hadn't processed the words correctly. Namjoon's jaw locked, the muscles working as he clenched his teeth.

"They what?" Seokjin's voice was sharper, cracking the silence like a whip. He stepped forward, gaze flicking between Taehyung and Louis.

The crack came-Taehyung's fist slammed down onto the desk with the violence of a gunshot. The wood shuddered beneath the force. His voice broke past gritted teeth.

"She's gone. Snatched right from under their noses." His gaze burned as it dropped to Louis, who flinched in his chair but didn't dare move. "He let her slip."

Louis coughed, blood flecking his lip. His voice came out ragged, pleading. "Boss, I-"

"Shut up." Taehyung's voice lashed like a whip. His eyes were blazing, predator-dark. He turned back to the others, his command leaving no room for doubt. "We find her. Now. Before it's too late."

Hoseok stepped forward, his usual warmth gone, replaced with a steel-edged tone. "We'll find her. She's family. Don't worry."

Namjoon's calm carried weight, his presence cutting through the panic with measured authority. "Let's move. Everyone work your lanes. No wasted time."

The machine roared to life.

Minutes later, Seokjin tossed a keycard onto the desk. "I spoke to the jjimjilbang manager. The alley camera winked out two minutes before the grab. Someone cut the feed at the pole." He unfurled a map onto the desk, tapping the location with precision. "Here. Exact spot."

Taehyung gave a sharp nod, eyes never leaving the point marked on the map. "Yoongi."

Yoongi was already moving, laptop open, fingers flying. "Traffic cams. Jongno to Seodaemun. We're looking for a white box van with a left-panel scar. I'll pull mic feeds too-tire signatures, weight shifts, asphalt residue." His voice was clipped, efficient. "Give me ten minutes."

"Jungkook," Taehyung ordered.

The youngest was already on his phone, eyes gleaming dark with a grin that didn't touch his mouth. "Tow yards, warehouse security, private garages. Cash first, favors later. Every dry van in a twenty-block radius will be mine." His voice carried a dangerous promise.

Orders spread like wildfire.

Hoseok grabbed his phone, his tone clipped. "Hospitals first. Needle punctures, female victims, unexplained unconscious arrivals. I'll make sure no one slips through."

Namjoon leaned over the desk, scanning the map with military precision. "We need choke points. Box vans don't vanish into thin air. They take routes with weight clearance. That limits them. I'll have municipal officers pull logs from weigh stations and underpasses."

"Good," Taehyung said, voice still deadly calm. His eyes flicked to Yang. "You. Shadows. Whisper in the underground. I want chatter before the hour ends."

Yang gave a sharp nod, smirk curling briefly despite the tension. "Consider it done. I'll smoke out the rats before they know fire's in the room."

Still, minutes bled into hours. Screens lit up with camera grids. Phones buzzed. Coffee went cold. The room grew heavier by the second. Every man moved like part of a machine-but no lead came.

The silence thickened, pressing down like smog.

Yoongi finally slammed the laptop shut, jaw clenched. "They knew what they were doing. No tire trace. No camera catch. Clean. Too clean."

Taehyung's gaze snapped to Louis, who had been sitting bloodied, silent, head lowered. His voice was colder than ice, sharp enough to carve flesh.
"Then someone fed them. Someone who knew our patterns."

Louis flinched, lifting his swollen face. His voice trembled, "Boss, I swear-"

Taehyung moved so fast the air itself seemed to cut. He grabbed Louis's jaw, forcing his head back. Their eyes locked-one broken, one burning.
"You swore when you left my house. You swore when you walked with her. And yet she's gone." His voice dropped to a whisper, each word a bullet. "If she bleeds, Louis, so will you."

No one in the room spoke. No one moved. The weight of Taehyung's rage pressed on them all.

Then, almost too quietly, Jimin spoke, gaze hard.

"Then we bleed the city till she's found."

The tension grew suffocating, each tick of the clock pressing harder on the air. Taehyung stood at the head of it all, a man carved from fury and fear, his hands gripping the desk so tight his knuckles turned bone-white.

His men worked like wolves-but even wolves bleed when the moon refuses to rise.

And still, Miso was gone.

---

The office door burst open again, crashing against the wall.
A guard stumbled inside, a knife pressed against his throat.

Behind him-Yin.

The room froze.

Yang's face hardened instantly, a rare crack of disappointment in his usually cool composure.
"Yin," his voice cut like broken glass, low but dangerous.

Taehyung's fury detonated, raw and uncontained.
"YOU." His voice cracked like thunder, shaking the air. He stalked forward, steps pounding. "How dare you show your face here!"

Yin's chest heaved as his gaze swept across the room-pleading, desperate, alive with something no one expected.
"Please. Just once," his voice broke, trembling but loud enough to fill the silence. "Listen to me."

Taehyung didn't wait. His hand shot out, fisting Yin's collar, yanking him forward so violently the knife clattered to the ground. The guard scrambled away. Yin choked on the grip, his face twisting in pain.

"You did it, didn't you?" Taehyung's voice cracked with venom. "You traitorous bastard. Tell me where the hell she is!" His whole body trembled, rage bleeding into grief.

Yin's eyes widened, confusion flashing before horror set in.
"What-what happened to Miso?"

The words landed like an explosion.

The room went still.
No one breathed.

Yin's eyes darted-first to Louis, bloodied and broken in the chair. Then to Yang, who stood rigid, torn between loyalty and the bitter truth.
"What happened to her?" Yin's voice cracked again, raw and trembling.

Yang exhaled, jaw tight. "Someone took her. We haven't found her yet."

Taehyung's grip tightened on his collar, his glare sharp enough to cut steel.
"And why the hell are you telling him this? He's not one of us anymore."

Yin shoved him back, ripping free with surprising strength. His voice erupted, fire blazing through every word.
"No. Don't you dare say that." His chest rose and fell in harsh waves, eyes burning with a rawness that shook the room. "My loyalty is with you until my last breath. Even if none of you believe it. Just once-give me a chance."

The tension thickened, the room bristling with suspicion, fury, and disbelief.

But Taehyung-he just stood there. His hands shook at his sides, devastation clouding his fury. His breaths came fast, too fast, like his chest couldn't contain it.

"How did this happen?" Yin demanded, scanning each face, his desperation palpable.

Jimin spoke first, voice low, grim. "We don't know. They pulled her clean. Every trace. We checked everything."

"Then trace her GPS!" Yin snapped, sharp, instinctive.

"All GPS are off," Jungkook muttered bitterly, slamming his phone on the desk so hard it rattled. "They killed every signal."

Yin's head whipped toward him, disbelief flooding his face. "What?" His voice shook as he turned sharply to Louis. "Didn't you check before leaving?!"

Louis lowered his gaze, shame heavy in the slump of his shoulders. Blood dripped from his lip as silence swallowed his answer.

Something flickered in Yin's expression-an idea, a light sparking in the dark. His eyes snapped to Yang.
"Where's my phone?"

Yang narrowed his gaze, suspicion flaring. "Why?"

"Just-give it to me. Now."

All eyes shifted to Taehyung. His jaw clenched so tight the muscle twitched. He studied Yin, razor suspicion slicing through him, then yanked open a drawer. He pulled out the phone and shoved it at Yin with a sharp flick of his wrist.

The screen lit up-immediately exploding with notifications. Dozens of missed calls. Messages. Miso's texts, her voice bleeding through in written words: teasing, pleading, angry, worried.

Yin's throat tightened as he scrolled with shaking hands. Then his thumb darted to an app.

Everyone leaned in.

"What the hell is this?" Jungkook muttered, suspicion cutting deep.

Yin's thumbs moved fast-then suddenly froze. His breath caught, a ragged sound breaking free from his chest. His shoulders sagged as if under the weight of relief.
"Got her," he whispered, almost disbelieving. Louder: "I got her location."

Every head snapped toward him.

Taehyung was on him in a heartbeat, yanking the phone out of his hands. His eyes locked on the screen-on the blinking dot pulsing against a map. Disbelief and rage collided, fire burning in his stare.

His voice was sharp, suspicious, dangerous.
"How do I know this is real? And how the hell do you know her location when every GPS is dead?"

Yin hesitated-then exhaled, the truth cracking from his lips like glass shattering.
"Because I put a tracker on her bracelet."

The room exploded with sound-disbelief, anger, curses.

Taehyung's face darkened, shadows carving deeper into his fury. His fist shook as he roared:
"You did what?!"

"She never takes it off," Yin's voice cracked, loud, desperate. "Not once. The night she sneaked out without telling anyone-I-I needed to make sure she was safe. When we realized there was a mole inside, I planted it. Quietly. I didn't tell anyone. Not even Yang."

"You bastard," Taehyung hissed, his voice like poison.

Namjoon's voice cut through, cold and commanding.
"Taehyung."

Everyone turned to him. His gaze was sharp, logical, unmoving.
"This isn't the time to get angry. That tracker is our only shot. Use it. Don't waste it on rage."

Taehyung's chest heaved, every muscle trembling. His fury was a storm, but Namjoon's words anchored him. Slowly, his jaw clenched, and he nodded once.

They all bent over the phone. A single blinking dot pulsed near Incheon's warehouse district.

Taehyung straightened, his expression carved from iron now. His voice was a blade, steady and lethal.
"We move."

The room shifted instantly-maps unfolded, weapons loaded, routes marked.

Louis, still bloody and broken, croaked from the floor. His voice cracked with guilt.
"Let me come. It was my mistake. I won't let her down again."

Yin's voice followed, firm, unflinching. His eyes locked on Taehyung's glare, burning with something raw.
"I'll come too. Not to prove anything-to bring her back."

The room held its breath.

Taehyung stared at them both, unreadable, his silence heavier than any bullet. Then, without a word, he turned away, reached for his pistol, and slid it into his coat with a sharp click.

The silence sharpened to a knife-edge.

His voice finally cut through-low, cold, final:
"I'm coming."

ⒹⒶⓇⓀ ⒾⓃⓃⓄⒸⒺⓃⒸⒺ

The convoy of black cars stood like shadows against the dim backstreet, their engines silenced, leaving only the buzz of neon flickering from a half-broken sign. The night air hung heavy, damp with oil and smoke, but colder still was the silence that followed Taehyung's first step onto the asphalt.

His coat cut a sharp silhouette under the faint light, the leather shifting with each stride. The muzzle of his gun caught the glow for a split second before returning to darkness, steady in his grasp. His jaw was locked, muscles carved from fury and restraint. But his fingers... they betrayed him. Not fear-no, fear had long since been bled out of him-but the thought of Miso. The possibility that her small body might already be broken inside that warehouse was enough to set a storm beneath his skin.

Yang moved at his shoulder, casual in gait but not in eyes-his gaze cut corners, lingered on shadows, weighed threats like a wolf sizing prey. Behind them, the others formed a line of grim faces and lethal intent. Jimin adjusted his suppressor, lips pressed tight, while Jungkook checked his magazine with the quiet snap of steel on steel. Hoseok rolled his shoulders, expression unreadable, Yoongi's fingers tapped on his tablet in clipped rhythm, and Seokjin whispered calculations under his breath. Namjoon was steady, his calm authority slipping into place as he unfolded the map.

Louis trailed, his face pale against the black of his jacket, trying-and failing-to hide the tremor in his steps. And then there was Yin, a step apart from them all, his expression unreadable but the weight of suspicion hanging on him like a shroud.

Taehyung's voice cut through the silence. Cold, commanding.
"Namjoon hyung. Layout."

Namjoon opened the rough paper, lit faintly by the narrow cone of Yoongi's flashlight. His finger traced the creases.
"Two entry points. Front's heavy-guards posted, probably expecting noise. Back alley's tight, but less eyes. Inside, it's stacked with crates, like a damn labyrinth. Ambush territory."

Yoongi didn't look up from his tablet, his voice monotone but sharp.
"Thermal's reading six signatures on the second floor. Could be more. If they're using cold gear, we won't see them until it's too late."

Taehyung's eyes narrowed, the frost in them sharpening to steel.

"They won't keep her in the open. Miso's inside. We move fast, no sound until I give the order."

Louis swallowed, stepping forward with hesitation that earned every eye on him. His voice cracked.

"Boss... if this is because of me-"

Taehyung didn't let him finish. His tone dropped to a blade's edge, sharp enough to draw blood.

"It is because of you."

The click of his gun echoed as he pressed the muzzle lightly against Louis' chest. Louis froze, breath stuttering as sweat broke across his temple.
"And you'll earn your place back tonight. You go in front. Any mistake-" Taehyung leaned in, his breath ice against Louis' ear. "-you won't get a second chance."

Louis nodded, jerky, desperate.

"Understood."

The silence stretched, thick enough to choke, until Yin's voice finally cut through. Calm. Controlled. Pleading.

"Let me take point instead."

Every gun tilted slightly, suspicion rippling through the crew. Yang's brow lifted in sardonic disbelief.

Yin kept speaking, steady despite the threat pressing in on him.

"Her bracelet... I know its frequency. If she's conscious, I can track the signal closer than this. Let me lead."

Daniel-dry, skeptical, his voice coated in distrust-spoke before Taehyung could answer.

"Or lead us straight into a trap."

Yin's eyes flickered, a shadow of something pained, but he didn't falter.

"If I wanted her gone, I wouldn't be here. I swore my loyalty. Let me prove it."

The group stilled. The sound of a distant siren bled faintly into the night, then faded again. Taehyung's gaze fixed on Yin, unblinking, a predator weighing the worth of prey. His jaw flexed once. The silence became suffocating, every second stretched taut as a noose.

Then, finally, Taehyung's lips moved, voice low and absolute.

"You walk ahead of me."

He raised his gun, the barrel cold as it hovered behind Yin's back.

"One wrong step, Yin... and I'll put a bullet between your shoulders before you breathe your next word."

No one questioned it. No one dared.

And so they moved.

The crew fell into formation, boots whispering against cracked pavement, shadows swallowing them whole. The back alley narrowed around them, walls leaning inward like the jaws of a beast. Somewhere inside, muffled behind steel and silence, Miso waited.

Or bled.

Taehyung's grip on his gun tightened until his knuckles ached, each step fueled by a single, merciless vow.

If one hair on her head was touched-
Blood would flood this city tonight.

---

The back alley ended in shadows, slick with rain. Boots pressed against wet pavement, soundless. Jungkook knelt at the rear door, fingers deft and practiced, cutting the lock with the faint click of metal surrendering. The warehouse yawned before them, a cavern of rust, oil, and the faint metallic tang of forgotten machinery. Dim emergency lights cast long, jagged shadows, making every crate and steel beam a potential hiding place.

Yin's phone pinged softly, the green dot leaping along the screen. His voice was almost a breath.
"She's close. Thirty meters. Ground floor."

Taehyung's grip on his gun tightened, knuckles white beneath black leather. His whisper cut through the warehouse air like a blade.

"Form split. Jimin, Jungkook, north flank. Yoongi, Hoseok, cover second floor. Seokjin, Namjoon, with me."

The group moved as if rehearsed, shadows folding into shadows. No words, just the quiet symphony of tension and purpose.

Then-movement above. Footsteps on the catwalk. A shadow flickered in the dim light.

Yoongi's hand rose, a suppressor sliding over the barrel. A soft pfft echoed, barely louder than a whisper. The body above crumpled silently, swallowed by darkness.

Louis flinched, a sharp intake of breath betraying him. Taehyung's gaze snapped toward him, cold and lethal.

"Stay focused. She's all that matters."

They rounded another corner, and the ping from Yin's phone spiked violently. Yin froze, pointing at a steel door bolted tight. His whisper was taut with urgency.

"She's in there."

Taehyung's pulse thundered in his ears. Every instinct screamed. He motioned to Yang and Jimin; they moved with quiet precision, bolt cutters in hand. The chain gave way with a muted clink.

Taehyung's gun lifted, eyes narrowing, every muscle coiled. The door creaked open-and his world shattered.

The room was empty. Bare, save for a single chair in the center. On it lay Miso's bracelet, blinking faintly.

His breath caught in his chest, sharp and jagged. He fell forward, hand trembling as he picked up the bracelet, the weight of it heavier than any weapon he had ever carried.

His voice was rough, torn between rage and heartbreak.

"She was here... they knew we were coming."

Yin's face drained of color, shock flickering across features that usually held nothing but stoic control.

"No... no, the signal was real-she was here-"

Yang's temper snapped, his teeth grinding.

"Or you led us right where they wanted us."

Before Yin could answer, Yang slammed him against the wall, the cold steel of his pistol pressing to Yin's jaw. Taehyung did nothing. His own fury was boiling just beneath the surface, too close, too raw.

And then-

A sound. Faint. Fragile. Muffled, almost lost in the cavernous space.

Taehyung froze. His head snapped toward the wall it came from, every sense screaming.

His voice dropped to a lethal whisper.

"She's still here."

The team stilled. Even the distant hum of the warehouse seemed to fade, leaving only that soft, unmistakable sound-Miso's voice, fragile and trembling, yet alive.

Every heartbeat stretched taut, every shadow seemed closer, every breath waited. Taehyung's fingers itched on his trigger, but this time it wasn't anger-it was need. She was here. Alive.

And he would find her.

---

The muffled cry grew louder as they pressed toward the far side of the warehouse. Behind stacked crates, half-hidden, a false wall jutted out slightly-too smooth, too deliberate. They moved toward it, senses straining, only to realize Yin was nowhere in sight. There was no time to search; Miso's safety came first.

The chamber beyond smelled of damp concrete and rusted iron, a place where secrets went to rot. Their footsteps echoed sharply as they advanced, Jungkook's flashlight slicing through the darkness, sweeping over crates, until it caught something that made Taehyung's chest seize.

Miso.

She was bound to a chair, wrists chafed raw against the coarse rope, a gag pressing harshly against her lips. Her eyes flew wide at the sight of them, tears clinging stubbornly to her lashes.

"Miso..." Taehyung's voice cracked, breaking in a way that made the air around them heavier.

He dropped to his knees before her, a man who never bent for anyone kneeling as if the earth itself had forced him down. His hands shook as he reached for the gag, every muscle aching to pull her free, to press her against his chest where no one could touch her.

But Miso shook her head violently, pupils blown wide with panic. Her gaze darted past him, over his shoulder.

Taehyung froze.

Then he felt it-the cold, merciless press of steel at the back of his skull.

A humorless laugh rumbled from his throat. "Of course," he muttered, lips curling. "The traitor... Yin."

Slowly, he turned, ready to confront his disloyal shadow. But the face that met him hollowed the air from his lungs.

Not Yin.

Louis.

The boyish face that had once seemed eager, loyal, now twisted into a cruel smirk that sent a chill down the room. His eyes glittered with something sharp, long hidden, and the gun in his hand was steady as stone.

Jimin's voice cut through the silence, raw with fury.
"Louis, what the hell are you doing?!"

Louis tilted his head, lips curling. "What I should've done a long time ago. Did you really think I was that sloppy? That pathetic? You never saw me. The real me."

The words hung like a blade in the air.

"Everyone," Louis said, pressing the gun harder against Taehyung's head. "Weapons. On the ground. Now. Or your mighty king loses his brains all over the floor."

"No," Jungkook snapped, eyes blazing. "I'll-"

"Do it," Taehyung's calm, commanding voice cut across him like a knife. Cold, precise, vibrating with restrained fury. One by one, the steel clattered to the floor. Jungkook dropped his gun with a hiss. Yoongi's face remained impassive, revolver set down, but his mind raced, calculating. Namjoon's jaw tightened as he lowered his rifle. Even Yang's narrowed eyes didn't waver as his gun hit the concrete.

From the shadows, men emerged-dozens of them, armed, silent, waiting. Hidden from the start, surrounding the chamber like wolves.

Louis chuckled low, poisonous. "Much better. Now... tie them."

Hands grabbed Taehyung, wrenching his arms behind him, ropes biting into his skin. Jungkook snarled curses as they were bound, only silenced when the butt of a rifle slammed into his stomach. Jimin struggled, but a gun barrel dug into his ribs.

Miso whimpered against her gag, tears spilling freely, eyes locked on Taehyung, desperate and terrified.

Yet even as ropes cut into him, Taehyung's gaze never left Louis. His eyes burned-not with fear, but with a promise of vengeance.

"You think this makes you powerful?" Taehyung's voice was low, venom seeping into every syllable. "You've just written your own death, Louis. I'll tear you apart with my bare hands."

For a heartbeat, Louis' smirk faltered. Just a flicker. Then he crouched low, face inches from Taehyung's, drinking in the rare sight of his king restrained.

"Not today, Taehyung," he whispered, smile wicked. "Today, I take everything from you. Your empire. Your brothers. And..." His gaze slid slowly, deliberately toward Miso. "...her."

Miso shook her head frantically, muffled cries breaking through her gag.

The room erupted in fury.

"You touch her, and I swear-" Jimin's voice trembled with rage.

"Coward," spat Yang.

Namjoon's knuckles whitened, calm cracking at the edges.

But Taehyung... Taehyung didn't shout. He leaned forward despite the gun pressing into his skull. His voice was cold as winter steel.

"Try it," he said softly. Deadly. "Lay a single finger on her... and I'll make your death so slow you'll beg for mercy."

For the first time, Louis' smirk wavered. Just for a second. Then he straightened, masking it with another mocking grin, but even he knew the tension had shifted.

---

Louis' laughter echoed off the concrete walls, sharp and cruel, bouncing like a taunt in the stale air. He paced lazily in front of them, gun swinging at his side, eyes drinking in the sight of his once-commanders on their knees, restrained and helpless.

"Pathetic," he sneered. "The great Kim Taehyung, the infamous King of Seoul-caught like a rat in his own trap. You all thought you were untouchable. That no one could touch your empire, your family. But look at you now."

He leaned close to Taehyung, breath hot against his ear. "On your knees. Helpless. And all because of her." His chin tilted toward Miso, still bound to the chair, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

Taehyung's body tensed, every muscle coiled with rage, but he forced his voice steady, cutting like a blade.
"You talk too much, Louis. Like a dog that finally found scraps and thinks it's a king."

Louis smirked wider. "You'll eat those words soon enough, Taehyung. Because my boss is here."

The word alone pressed down on the room, heavy and dangerous.

Louis turned toward the shadows at the far end of the chamber. He bowed slightly, mock reverence bleeding into fear. "Boss... we have them. Kim Taehyung and his precious weakness. Just as you wanted."

Silence stretched, thick and suffocating. The only sound was the flickering hum of a single bulb. Then-footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Each strike of leather against concrete carried weight, power, and something colder than the grave.

The figure emerged from darkness, sharp suit catching faint light, rings glinting with menace. Every breath in the room froze as he stepped fully into the glow.

Taehyung's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing, fury burning like wildfire in his chest. His ropes bit deeper into his wrists as his chest heaved, muscles tight as steel coiled for a strike.

The man smiled, voice deep and cruelly amused.
"Good to see you, Taehyung. It's been a while."

The words were casual, like greeting an old friend, but the air was thick with danger, suffocating in their weight.

Taehyung didn't speak. His jaw flexed, tightening as his gaze locked on the man, hatred pouring out with every heartbeat. The others looked between them, confusion blooming into dawning horror.

The man's gaze swept the room, pausing on Namjoon. His son's face went pale, lips trembling.
"F... father?"

A slow, venomous smirk spread across the man's face.
"Yes, son. It's me."

KIM TAEMOO.

The name crashed through the chamber like thunder, shaking the air itself.

Miso's chest heaved, muffled cries caught in her gag. Jimin's fists clenched against his bindings, rage twisting his face. Yang's eyes flicked sharp with disbelief. Even Yoongi's usual calm wavered, his steady gaze faltering.

Namjoon's voice cracked, hoarse and pleading.
"Father... what is this? Why... why are you here?"

Taemoo's smirk widened, voice smooth and cruel.
"What is this? This, my sons, is the truth. The truth you've been too blind to see. I built everything. I carved the empire from blood and stone, and you thought you could just take it and twist it into something weak."

He stepped closer to Taehyung, eyes glittering with cold delight.
"But not anymore. Now, the empire comes back to its rightful king. Me."

Taehyung's lips curled into a snarl, voice cutting through the room like a whip.
"You're no king. You're just a coward."

For a moment, silence. Then Taemoo laughed-a booming, rich sound that rattled the walls.
"Oh, son," he said, mockery dripping from every word. "You're still just a boy playing dress-up in a throne too big for you. But don't worry..." He leaned close, eyes locked on Taehyung with chilling delight. "...I'll take everything from you. Your brothers. Your empire. Your precious little wife."

Miso shook violently against her ropes, muffled screams tearing from her throat.

And Taehyung, tied and bound, felt the fire of every wound, every scar, every betrayal ignite inside him. His eyes locked on his father's with a fury that promised only one thing-this ends in blood.

The silence in the chamber stretched taut, broken only by Taehyung's low, ragged voice.

"Why?" His eyes, burning with fury, locked onto the man who had raised him-or so he thought. "If all you ever wanted was power... why give it to me in the first place? Why pretend to be a father at all? Why-" His voice cracked, anger twisting into something rawer, primal. "-why be that cruel?"

For a heartbeat, Taemoo's smirk faltered, replaced by an unreadable flicker. Then, with sudden violence, the man roared:

"Because I am not your father!"

The words shattered the chamber like thunder. Every breath stilled. Namjoon froze, disbelief etched into his features. Jimin's eyes went wide. Yoongi's jaw clenched, tension coiling through his frame. Even Louis, gun still pressed to Taehyung's temple, blinked, caught off guard.

Taehyung's body went rigid, every muscle taut. Veins stood out in his neck as he stared at the man before him, disbelief and fury warring in his eyes.

"W... what did you just say?" His voice was low, hoarse, trembling with rage.

The man laughed, first low, then loud and unrestrained, madness echoing off the stone walls. He stepped fully into the light, face lined with triumph and malice.

"I am not Kim Taemoo. Not your father. Hell, I am not even the man you thought you knew." He inhaled deeply, savoring the words, exhaling with a twisted smile. "My name... is Kim Taehoon."

The room erupted in shock.

Taehyung's lips parted, disbelief breaking into ragged stammers. "W... what are you saying?"

Taehoon's grin widened, sharp and venomous. "I'm saying the truth, boy. I am Kim Taemoo's twin. Your dearest uncle. And after all these cursed years, it feels so damn good to finally say my name out loud."

Taehyung's chest rose and fell unevenly, the weight of the revelation pressing like a physical force. "No. That's impossible. My father... my mother... they-"

"They're dead." Taehoon cut him off sharply, eyes gleaming like shards of glass. "The night your mother and grandfather died was the night your father died as well. Every single one. That weakling brother of mine... that bitch he called his wife... and the old bastard who dared strip me of my rightful place. They all deserved to rot."

The words slammed into Taehyung like a battering ram. His head jerked back, eyes wide, his body trembling from shock and fury.

"How... how could you-" he breathed, voice tight, almost broken.

"Because of that bastard old man," Taehoon spat, venom lacing every syllable, "he stole everything from me. My rightful place. My inheritance. My crown. And why? Because I killed and touched a few worthless maids. As if they mattered. Because I was honest about the blood that runs in our veins? He called me evil and gave everything to Taemoo-the weak one. The obedient one. And he cast me out like dirt. I was thrown away like trash."

His fists clenched so tight that knuckles turned white, trembling with restrained violence. "I was only a teenager when he threw me into the streets. But I swore I'd come back. I swore I'd burn his empire with my own hands."

The chamber seemed to shrink around them. Every heartbeat echoed like a drum, every breath caught in the tension-choked air. Taehyung's hands flexed against his bindings, muscles coiled, mind racing, fury igniting, the weight of betrayal and loss crashing over him.

For a moment, even Louis' cruel confidence faltered under the gravity of the revelation. Miso whimpered softly, the gag muffling her horror, eyes flicking between Taehyung and this monstrous uncle.

Taehyung's voice cut through the heavy air, hoarse and breaking.

"So Namjoon and I... we're not even your sons? Why not kill us too, then?"

Taehoon's lips curved into something wicked. His laughter spilled out, cruel and loud, echoing across the concrete walls.

"Oh, this... this is the twist I've been waiting for."

He turned his head slowly, his gaze landing on Namjoon-the only one not at gunpoint. His voice softened, almost tender, though it carried no warmth.

"No, Taehyung. You are not my son. But Namjoon is. Isn't that right, my boy?"

Namjoon's face drained of color. His eyes darted away, guilt flashing like lightning before a storm.

Taehyung felt the air leave his lungs. He turned toward his brother, searching his face, chest constricting as he saw the truth there-the guilt, the silence, the heaviness Namjoon could not shake. Another betrayal. Another knife in his chest.

"Namjoon...?" Taehyung's lips trembled.

Namjoon opened his mouth, but no words came. His throat worked, tears glistening at the corners of his eyes.

Taehoon spread his arms wide, like a preacher delivering a gospel of cruelty.

"Yes. Namjoon is my son. My blood. My legacy. The only heir I was ever meant to have."

Miso's muffled sob punctured the tense silence.

Taehyung stared blankly, the world collapsing around him, but Taehoon wasn't finished.

"You want the full truth, boy? Listen closely. That old man-your precious grandfather-found out years later that I had a son. Namjoon's mother died of illness, and I was left alone. Suddenly, the old man needed me again. But he still wouldn't give me my rightful place. He said my son could live in the mansion... but not me." His lips curled in disgust. "He stole Namjoon from me. Raised him in another man's house, under another man's name, while I rotted outside the walls."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Still, I accepted it. At least my son would inherit. At least my bloodline would rule. But then-two years later-Taemoo's wife gave birth to you, Taehyung."

His voice hardened, cruel and sharp. "Suddenly, all of it was snatched away again. That bastard old man, that bastard brother of mine-they decided everything would go to you. Not Namjoon. You."

His eyes blazed with unholy fire. "So I killed them all. Taemoo, his wife, the old man. With Marco's help. Yes, that same Marco you killed, Taehyung. Poetic, isn't it?" He sneered. "I gutted them all. But then I found out the old man had made a will. All the power, all the assets-locked under Taemoo's name until you turned eighteen. Then, automatically, it would all go to you. Not Namjoon. Not me. You. And if you died? Everything would be donated. Assets that could only be transferred willingly. That was when I realized: to win, I needed you alive. But powerless."

Namjoon's lips parted, trembling. "Stop-"

But Taehoon's voice rose, cutting through him like a whip.

"For ten years, I lived as Taemoo, wearing my brother's skin like a crown. But then Namjoon got to know the truth-I am Taehoon, not Taemoo. I had to tell him a lie-that night, I somehow got saved, and I took Taemoo's place so I could give Taehyung the fatherly love he craved. I had to lie to Namjoon, or he would have ruined everything. And sweet, loyal Namjoon... he believed every lie I fed him. That I had loved him as a father. He kept my secret. I bided my time."

His grin stretched wider, feral. "But then I saw you grow stronger, harder, untouchable... I had to make you weak. I had to give you something to lose."

His gaze slid to Miso, trembling in her ropes.

"So I gave you a weakness. I created it. Miso. Just like your weak father, you fell. She became your weakness. Your soft spot. Your downfall. Just like your weak father before you." He grinned wider, teeth glinting in the harsh light. "And now, I have everything I want. Power. My son back. And your empire, broken at my feet."

The chamber rang with his laughter, poisonous and triumphant.

But this time, Namjoon's voice cut through it-loud, shaking, burning.

"NO!"

Taehoon froze, eyes narrowing in surprise.

Namjoon's fists shook at his sides, voice raw with anguish. "You'll never have me. Not as your son. Not as your heir. You took my family, my mother, my brother-you destroyed everything. You don't get me too."

Taehoon's smile faltered. "Namjoon-"

Namjoon's jaw tightened. He stepped forward, unwavering, standing between Taehyung and the man who claimed him.

"You may have given me life. But you are not my father. My father died the night you killed him. And my brother-" his eyes met Taehyung's, fierce and unwavering "-is the only family I choose."

Taehoon's smirk faltered, the weight of his son's rejection heavy in the air.

Taehyung, still reeling from the storm of revelations, finally lifted his gaze. Eyes burning with pure, murderous rage, he spoke, slow and deliberate:

"You took my family. You wore my father's face. You lied. You betrayed. And now... you dare to touch what's mine."

His glance swept to Miso, then back at Taehoon. His voice was steel, unyielding.

"You should've killed me that night. Because now... I'll bury you myself."

Suddenly, the ground shook with a thunderous explosion. Dust and smoke curled into the air, and cracks spiderwebbed across the concrete walls. The sound reverberated through the vast warehouse like a death bell, freezing every breath for a split second.

From the haze, a figure strode forward-calm, deadly, eyes burning with unshakable loyalty. Yin.

"No one touches my boss... or his family... while I'm alive," he said, voice slicing through the chaos like a blade dipped in venom.

The room froze. Taehoon's men faltered, guns trembling in their hands. Then, almost casually, Yin raised two fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle.

The sound was a war cry.

Within seconds, shadows surged through every broken door and shattered window. A dozen men in black stormed forward-knives gleaming, guns cocked, faces painted with a hunger for blood.

Screams erupted. Gunfire rattled, ricocheting off walls. Steel clashed with steel, bones cracking under merciless strikes. The floor grew slick with blood, the air thick with the metallic stench of iron. Men clawed for breath as bullets tore through flesh and lungs alike.

Amid the carnage, Yin moved like a phantom. Every step precise, every motion deadly. A flick of his wrist snapped necks. A blade plunged into ribcages with mechanical precision. Corpses fell silently behind him as he carved a path straight toward Taehyung.

"Boss-!" Yin growled as he reached him, slicing the ropes apart with fluid efficiency. Yang was freed next, and together they became a whirlwind of controlled destruction, tearing through Taehoon's men with lethal precision.

Taehyung didn't waste a second. He dropped to his knees beside Miso, untying her with hands that trembled from fury and relief. The ropes fell to the floor with a dull thud. He pulled her into his chest, desperation clawing at every movement.

"Miso..." His voice was sharp, commanding. "Go. Hide. Now."

But she shook her head, her eyes alight with fire and defiance. "No. This is my fight too. I can fight, Taehyung. I won't run."

"You won't risk yourself," he snarled, voice low and dangerous, though fear licked the edges.

She stepped back, resolute, stubborn. "Then give me a gun."

Before he could answer, a voice slid in like poison. Yoongi, gun in hand, smirked, offering it to her. "Let her fight, Taehyung. She can do it. And if you don't let her... she'll find another way. Something even more dangerous."

Miso's lips curved into a small, confident smile as she wrapped her fingers around the handle. Taehyung's eyes burned holes into Yoongi, fury flaring at the sight of his wife taking another man's weapon.

"She's mine," he hissed, voice barely above a growl.

Yoongi only smirked wider. "Then trust her."

Taehyung exhaled sharply, jaw clenched tight. He brushed a strand of hair from Miso's face, his voice dropping low, laced with desperation. "Stay alive for me. That's an order."

The war erupted.

Bullets screamed through the air, knives flashed like lightning, and bones cracked under the relentless assault. The warehouse became a battlefield, a blood-soaked testament to chaos and vengeance. Screams mingled with gunfire and the sickly scent of iron as the tide of battle surged through the room.

Yin lunged at Louis head-on, their blades colliding with a deafening screech. Sparks flew as steel ground against steel, the sound slicing through the chaos like a warning bell. Louis snarled, his face twisted with rage, but Yin's eyes remained calm, unwavering, cold as ice.

"You should've died with honor, Louis," Yin said, voice low and deadly.

Louis spat blood, swinging his knife in a vicious arc. Yin ducked, sliding in close, and drove his own blade deep into Louis's side. A scream tore from Louis's throat as Yin twisted the knife, then ripped it free, letting the wound gash wide.

"You betrayed the wrong family," Yin growled, smashing his forehead into Louis's nose. Bone crunched under the blow, blood spattering across the floor. One swift, brutal motion-Yin ducked, drove his knife into Louis's thigh, twisted again, and smashed his skull against a concrete pillar. Blood painted the wall in grotesque patterns, the echoes of destruction reverberating through the warehouse.

Nearby, Daniel grabbed a thug by the jaw, forcing his mouth open. The man screamed, but Daniel didn't hesitate. The barrel of a stolen pistol pressed into his mouth. Bang. The skull exploded, spraying brains across Daniel's shirt.

Namjoon's roar cut through the chaos, a sound of pure fury. He slammed fists into a man's face again and again, bone splintering under each blow. When the body slumped, red-stained knuckles rose once more. "Don't you ever touch my family," he spat, shoving the pulpy mess aside.

Jungkook was a storm incarnate. Ducking under a swing, he shoved his knife into a man's gut, ripped upward, and spilled entrails across the floor. The man gurgled, clutching at his stomach, but Jungkook didn't flinch. He yanked the knife free, spun, and fired. Bang. A bullet tore through another man's eye, exploding the back of his skull in a fountain of red.

Yoongi's calm voice cut through the chaos. "Left side-three men!"

Miso turned just in time, heart hammering in her chest. She aimed, finger steady. Bang. One fell. Bang. Another dropped. The third charged, knife raised, but Taehyung was already there. His arm shot out, catching the man by the throat. With a brutal twist, the body crumpled to the ground.

"Stay close to me," Taehyung barked, voice like steel.

Miso's eyes glittered with defiance. "I'm not a porcelain doll, Taehyung. I can do this."

She fired again. The bullet struck a man through the temple, blood spraying like art on the cold walls. Taehyung's jaw tightened, torn between fury and pride.

Seokjin moved like a shadow behind them, garrote wire flashing in his hands. He looped it around a man's throat, pulled taut, and the steel cut deep. Blood gushed from the man's mouth as he clawed desperately, only to collapse limp in Jin's steady hands. Without pause, Jin moved to the next target.

Hoseok laughed, a manic glint in his eyes. He picked up a shattered bottle, plunging it into a man's throat, twisting. Blood erupted like a fountain, and the man choked, gargling, before Hoseok shoved him aside and moved on, wild and unstoppable. "Who's next?" he roared, face dripping with red.

Jimin leaned close to his victim, blade slicing clean through a throat. He whispered into the dying man's ear, "Too slow." Blood sprayed across his cheek, but he didn't flinch-only turned to hunt the next.

Everywhere, men screamed. Bullets shredded flesh, knives carved the living from the dying. The ground was slick with gore. Men slipped on blood as they fell, their last cries echoing only to be cut short by the relentless fury of Taehyung's team.

Amid it all, Yin, Yang, Namjoon, Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok, Yoongi, Seokjin, Daniel, and Miso moved as one deadly unit, unstoppable. Each strike, each shot, each cut was calculated, precise, and merciless.

The warehouse had become a maelstrom of violence, a brutal testament to loyalty, vengeance, and the unyielding will of those who would not let their family fall.

Miso stood firm, her white dress torn and soaked, now a dark crimson from the carnage around her. Her hair clung to her forehead in damp strands, but she didn't waver. Hands trembling, she reloaded, the metallic click of bullets punctuating the chaos. Then she fired again. Each shot was a pulse of survival, adrenaline roaring through her veins. Her aim was deadly, precise. No hesitation. No mercy.

Beside her, Taehyung moved like a force of nature. Cold, lethal, his eyes scanning the room for threats, each strike calculated and fatal. Knives flashed, bullets screamed through the air. He tore through the remaining men with ruthless precision, yet every time he glanced at Miso, his expression softened, a flicker of fear betraying just how much he cared.

Yin grappled with Louis, shoving him hard against a concrete pillar. Louis coughed blood, spitting and laughing bitterly. "You think you'll win, Yin? You're blind. You're fighting shadows."

"Shadows don't scare me," Yin replied, voice low and deadly. His blade drove deep into Louis's chest, twisting with surgical cruelty. Louis' laughter choked, blood bubbling from his lips. His body slid down the pillar in a streak of red. Louis-the traitor-was gone, finally punished by the hands of the loyal.

The warehouse was a tableau of horror. Bodies sprawled across the blood-soaked floor, heads split open, entrails glistening in the dim light. Screams had dwindled, replaced by wet gurgles and the echo of boots sliding through crimson pools.

Miso wiped blood from her cheek with the back of her hand, streaking it across her face. She glanced at Taehyung, her voice low but steady. "See? I told you. I can fight."

Taehyung's eyes burned as he wiped the blood from her face with a thumb, rough, intimate, possessive. His voice was hoarse, low, dangerous. "You're going to drive me insane, Miso."

"Better insane than dead," she shot back, cocking her gun and firing at a man who had barely gotten to his knees. The bullet tore through his temple, skull exploding with a wet, sickening crack.

Taehyung exhaled sharply, then smirked coldly, his teeth flashing under the dim lights. "Fine. Then let's burn their world together."

The fighting raged on around them. Yin and Yang moved like phantoms, slashing, shooting, dismantling the last wave of attackers. Daniel snapped necks with terrifying efficiency. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin each carved a path of blood and fury through the remaining men. Every movement precise, every strike final.

The floor was littered with corpses. Blood dripped from walls, pooling on the concrete until it gleamed like dark glass. The metallic stench of death clung to the air, thick and suffocating, burning their lungs with each inhale.

Yet through it all, Taehyung and Miso stood at the center, back to back, bloodied, breathless, unyielding. Each time a threat emerged, they met it without hesitation, a deadly harmony of instinct, skill, and unspoken trust.

And across the chamber, Taehoon watched, his suit unscathed, his expression eerily calm. Men fell one by one, yet his eyes gleamed with something far more dangerous than anger-patience. Control. Anticipation.

The carnage around him didn't shake him. He didn't flinch. He waited, calculating. The true war had not even begun, and the storm in the warehouse was only the prelude.

Miso exhaled, shoulders trembling, the gun lowering slowly as her chest heaved. Taehyung stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, hand sliding up to her jaw and tilting her face toward him. His thumb brushed a streak of blood across her cheek, a silent claim. His eyes burned into hers-possessive, proud, dangerous.

"You see now?" he murmured, voice a low growl. "This throne isn't mine alone. It's ours."

Miso's lips parted, her gaze sharpening. It wasn't innocence there-it was steel, fire, and something darker. Her voice was steady, cold.

"King and Queen of blood."

Taehyung smirked, pressing a brief kiss to her forehead, smeared with crimson. Around them, silence fell for a heartbeat, the corpses lying like grim witnesses. Their kingdom had been baptized in gore.

From the shadows, Taehoon stepped forward, a smirk tugging at his bloodied lips. His blade hung loose in one hand, a pistol gripped in the other. His voice cut across the battlefield, venom-laced.

"So this is it, huh? The little boy I raised... daring to stand against the man who made him."

Taehyung's gaze locked on him, muscles tensed, the chaos of battle fading into a singular focus. He took a step forward, eyes narrowing, while the others continued to fight across the blood-slick floor.

The warehouse lights flickered, shadows dancing across the blood-stained concrete. Two men faced each other: Kim Taehyung, drenched in crimson, chest rising and falling with cold fury, and Kim Taehoon-once a father figure, now revealed as his uncle.

"You didn't make me," Taehyung said, jaw clenched, voice slicing the air. "You tried to break me. That's all you've ever done."

Taehoon laughed, harsh and mocking. "Break you? No. I forged you. Without me, you'd be nothing. Another weak heir. Don't you see, Taehyung? You are the product of my cruelty. My son was born weak, but you..." He pointed his blade, sneering, "...you became my masterpiece."

Taehyung's eyes burned, knuckles white around his blood-slicked knife. "If that's true, then I'll prove it by destroying you."

The air thickened. Then-clash!

Steel met steel, sparks flying as their knives locked. Both men strained, teeth clenched, muscles screaming. Taehoon twisted like an old wolf, slashing at Taehyung's side, but the younger man countered with a brutal knee to the gut, forcing Taehoon back a step.

Gunfire rattled nearby, but the world had narrowed to blood and betrayal.

"You still fight like him," Taehoon spat, circling, "like Taemoo. Stiff. Predictable. Weak."

Taehyung wiped blood from his lip, cold fury burning through him. "Funny... because you're the one losing ground."

He lunged. Blade slashed across Taehoon's arm, drawing a crimson line. Taehoon hissed, stumbling, then fired his pistol-bang, bang! Taehyung ducked, one bullet grazing his cheek, the other shattering a crate. Rolling forward, he hurled his knife toward Taehoon's throat.

Taehoon barely deflected it, rage flaring. He charged, tackling Taehyung, both slamming into the blood-soaked floor. Fists flew, bone cracking under the force. Taehyung's knuckles split as he drove them repeatedly into Taehoon's face. Taehoon retaliated with a crushing headbutt, spitting blood onto the floor.

They staggered to their feet, circling, chest heaving, eyes locked in mutual hatred.

Miso stood at the edge of the circle, gun trembling in her hands. Fear and fury wrestled in her eyes. "Tae-"

"Stay back!" Taehyung snapped, not looking at her. His voice was rough, commanding. This was his fight.

Taehoon grinned through bloody teeth. "Oh, how noble. Protecting your woman... like a good little king. She's the reason you'll die. She's the weakness I gave you."

Taehyung's eyes narrowed, fire igniting. "No. She's the reason you'll lose."

With a roar, he lunged. Blades clashed in a deadly dance-slashes, parries, punches, and kicks. Blood sprayed across the floor, walls, and both combatants. Every strike was personal, every grunt laden with years of betrayal and rage.

Finally, Taehyung slammed his knife into Taehoon's shoulder, pinning him against a steel pillar. Taehoon howled, the pistol dropping from his hand. Taehyung pressed in close, forearm crushing his throat, eyes dark and unrelenting.

"You're no king," Taehyung growled, voice low and deadly, "You're just a snake wearing my father's skin."

Taehoon gasped, struggling against the crushing hold, blood dripping down his chin. His eyes widened for the first time in years-not with fear, but with the realization that his masterpiece had become his executioner.

Taehoon wheezed, blood dripping from his split lips, but a dark, twisted smile crawled across his face. "Then be careful, Taehyung... because snakes bite hardest when cornered."

Before Taehyung could react, Taehoon's hand shot to his boot, pulling a hidden blade. In a flash, he slashed upward, carving across Taehyung's ribs. Pain exploded in Taehyung's side, blood running hot between his fingers as he staggered back.

"MISO!" he roared, chest heaving, eyes wild.

"I... I-Tae!" she screamed, raising her gun, heart pounding in her chest.

"NO!" Taehyung bellowed, voice ragged, filled with raw fury. "This is mine!"

He tore his jacket off, letting the wound bleed freely, stepping forward, eyes burning with murderous intent. Taehoon grinned, drenched in red, his shirt ripped and plastered to his chest.

"Good," he croaked. "Come die as a man, not a boy."

The two collided again. Knife against knife, flesh tearing, fists smashing into bone. Taehyung's blade drove deep into Taehoon's thigh. Taehoon screamed but countered, steel sinking into Taehyung's shoulder. Both roared, blood dripping from wounds, pooling at their boots. Every strike was heavier now, slower, weighted with exhaustion and hatred.

Finally, with a brutal twist, Taehyung disarmed him, flinging Taehoon's knife across the floor. He pressed his own blade against Taehoon's throat, muscles trembling, breathing ragged.

Taehoon chuckled, blood bubbling in his mouth. "You've... surpassed me."

Taehyung's jaw clenched, the knife trembling slightly against his uncle's throat. Ice cold, his voice sliced through the room. "No. I'll bury you."

The warehouse seemed to hold its breath. Blood, smoke, gunfire, and screams filled every corner, but here, in this circle, it was just the two of them-a storm of steel and rage.

Taehoon twisted violently, forcing Taehyung to stumble. Roaring, Taehyung shoved him across the floor, but before he could finish it, half a dozen of Taehoon's men lunged, blades glinting. Snarling, Taehyung moved like a predator-cutting one man's throat, ducking another's swing, blood still leaking from his ribs.

Then-Taehoon, coughing, dragging himself onto one knee, his hand fumbling toward a discarded gun. He lifted it slowly, eyes narrowing on Taehyung's unguarded back.

Miso's chest seized. Her gaze locked onto the barrel.

"No..." she whispered, every muscle tensing.

She sprinted forward, feet pounding the blood-soaked concrete.

"Tae!" she screamed, but it was too late.

From the corner, Yin saw her charge, a split second too late. He broke into a run, eyes wide with alarm. "NO-"

Time collapsed.

The gunshot ripped through the chaos-sharp, deafening.

BANG!

Another.

BANG!

And then-silence.

Every sound stopped. Screams frozen mid-air. Men frozen mid-lunge. Blood slicked floor reflected the dim light like a mirror.

Taehyung froze, knife mid-swing, turning slowly. Miso stood there, chest heaving, gun smoking, her hands shaking but steady.

Miso blinked, trembling, until the warmth splattering across her skin registered-not her own blood. She looked down.

Yin was there, crumpled against her, his chest torn open where the bullet had passed clean through. His knees buckled, and he sagged into her arms, heavy, shaking, his life bleeding onto her hands.

"Yin... no-no, no, no..." Miso's voice cracked, her own body collapsing as she fell to her knees with him cradled against her. Tears streaked her blood-smeared cheeks, dripping onto the crimsoned fabric of his shirt.

A few feet away, Taehoon lay motionless, a neat hole through his forehead. Blood had spilled across the concrete like a grotesque, morbid crown. Namjoon stood behind him, pistol still raised, hands trembling but steady enough to have ended it. Slowly, he lowered the weapon, pale and haunted, the weight of the kill settling in his chest.

The warehouse was silent. Only the sound of Miso's uncontrollable sobs cut through the heavy air.

Taehyung shoved the last lingering attacker aside, rushing forward, dropping to his knees beside them. Blood streaked his face, ribs heaving with every ragged breath, but it was his eyes that spoke volumes-devastation, disbelief, grief, fury, all at once.

Miso clutched Yin's hand, crying so violently her voice fractured. "Why... why did you do that? I... I was supposed to... I wanted to save him..."

Yin coughed, blood bubbling at his lips, each breath shallow and ragged. Yet when he lifted his gaze to her, it softened, a faint, pained smile tugging at his lips. His voice, though weak, held a quiet steel.

"Didn't I tell you, Miso?" he whispered. "As long as I live... nothing touches you. Not even death itself."

Her tears poured faster, soaking his bloodied chest. "But-Yin, no... no, you can't-please, stay, don't leave me, please-"

He shifted, forcing what little strength remained into his final words. His fingers twitched against Taehyung's arm, barely able to lift themselves.

"Boss..." His lips trembled, the smile faint but proud. "I am... only loyal... to you. Always... you."

Taehyung's jaw clenched so tightly the veins stood out, his chest tightening as the storm inside him threatened to break. He whispered, voice raw, "...I know. I know, Yin."

Yin's eyes flickered toward Yang, frozen a few feet away, bloodied hands shaking for the first time anyone had ever seen. His lips curved once more into a faint, ghostly smile.

"Brother... live... for both of us now."

Yang's composure shattered entirely. "Don't you dare-don't you dare leave me, Yin-" His voice cracked, desperate, pleading.

But Yin's hand slipped slowly from Taehyung's arm. His chest stilled, eyes dimming as his final breath faded. The faint smile remained, carved into memory.

Silence fell again, heavier than any before it. The war, the blood, the victory-it all became meaningless in the presence of this loss.

Miso broke completely, rocking his lifeless body in her arms, sobbing into his blood-soaked shirt as if sheer will could keep him alive.

Taehyung bowed his head, fists clenched until his knuckles went white, trembling in rage and grief. Every muscle in his body ached as the truth sank in-Yin was gone. Their most loyal shield. Their silent, unshakable strength.

The warehouse, once echoing with the screams of battle, now only carried the hollow sound of Miso's desperate cries, filling the space with grief so profound it seemed to absorb even the lingering scent of blood.

Even in victory, the silence was deafening.

Author's Note ✨💀🔥

Oooookayyy y'all... lemme just take a sec to catch my own breath 😭💨 Like... can we talk about how INSANE that warehouse scene got??? Blood, chaos, tears, loyalty... all the things!! I was literally shaking typing that 🔪💥 Miso going full QUEEN MODE while Taehyung was straight-up storming like a literal demon king... like, bro, my heart was not ready 😳💀

And y'all... Yin 😭💔 My sweet silent guardian, my literal rock, going out like THAT??? Bruh, I cried while writing it, ngl. Don't even get me started on Taehyung holding him-my boy, my king, my angry cutie... ughhhh 🥹🔥

Also, let's just appreciate Miso for a hot sec. Our baby girl in BLOODRED 👑💉 Killing it, not backing down, proving she's literally nobody's weak spot. I stan a queen who can literally shoot AND steal your heart at the same time 😏💖

Honestly, this chapter was messy, chaotic, emo, and violent-like my brain on caffeine and rage-but also... kinda beautiful? IDK, y'all feel me, right? 😅✌️

Anywayyy, brace yourselves for what's next... cuz the chaos ain't over, the bloodline drama is REAL, and your fave mafioso couple is just getting started 😎💣

Stay messy, stay savage, and keep vibin' with these crazy humans ❤️🖤

- StarlitWings 🌙✨