Third person's pov

The tiny café on the corner of the street was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone. It had an old woden floors, the faint smell of burnt coffee beans, and a stubborn little bell above the door that announced each visitor’s arrival with an jingle. Jungkook hated that bell. Especially today.

When he pushed the door open, the entire room seemed to stop for a moment. The jingle rang louder than usual, and every customer turned their heads to look at him. Jungkook could hear the hushed whispers across the café.

“Is that him?”

“Yeah, that’s the guy…”

“He looks like he hasn’t showered in days!”

Jungkook didn’t bother to look their way. Were they wrong? Not really. He knew he looked like hell. His hair stuck out in every direction like a bird’s nest, his hoodie had a suspicious stain he couldn’t explain, and the faint smell of chocolate lingered on him from last night’s pathetic dinner.

Three days without a proper shower or food will do that to you. Still, he wasn’t here to make friends or win a beauty contest. He needed caffeine, and he needed it now.

He dragged himself to the counter, leaning against it like it was the only thing holding him upright. Wojin, the cashier, looked up from the register, immediately narrowing his eyes.

“Ice Americano,” Jungkook said casually, his voice a little too calm for someone with zero money. “I’ll pay you back by the end of this month. Promise.”

Wojin sighed so loudly that the couple sitting by the window looked over in alarm. “Jungkook, this is the third time you’ve said that this month. Do you think I’m running a charity here?”

Jungkook straightened up, feigning offence. “Wojin, come on. We’re friends! Friends help each other out.”

“Friends don’t expect me to pay for their caffeine addiction every other week.”

“I’m not addicted!” Jungkook shot back, his voice rising slightly. The bell jingled again as someone entered, but neither man noticed. “I’m just... in a rough patch right now. You wouldn’t kick a man when he’s down, would you?”

Wojin crossed his arms, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Rough patch? Jungkook, last week you said you were on a spiritual journey to discover life’s deeper meaning. The week before that, it was ‘the system is rigged against me.’ Which one is it today?”

Jungkook waved a hand dismissively. “It’s all connected, Wojin. Life is... complicated. Anyway, didn’t I help you last year when your mom accidentally locked herself in the bathroom and you were out of town and didn't received the phone calls? Who called the locksmith? Me.”

Wojin groaned. “You keep bringing that up like you saved her from a burning building. You called a guy, Jungkook. That’s it.”

“Oh, so now we’re downplaying my contributions to your life?” Jungkook threw up his hands dramatically, startling the older woman standing in line behind him.

“Fine. Next time, I won’t help you when you’re crying over your stupid relationship problems, huh? Remember that time you calledmme at two in the morning because you your girlfriend was cheating on you? Who stayed up all night listening to you cry? Me. That’s who.”

Wojin looked torn, his resolve visibly cracking. But then he glanced at the stack of unpaid tabs on the counter and shook his head. “Nope. Sorry, Jungkook. Not this time. You’re on your own.”

Jungkook groaned, slamming his hand on the counter. “You’re heartless, Wojin. Absolutely heartless. I hope your coffee beans burn.”

“And I hope you find a job,” Wojin shot back.

Realizing he wasn’t going to win this one, Jungkook spun around and stormed out of the café, the obnoxious jingle of the doorbell mocking him on his way out.

Jungkook stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie as he trudged down the sidewalk, still fuming from his argument with Wojin. “I hate him,” he muttered to himself.

He wasn’t paying attention when he accidentally bumped into someone hard. The impact sent him stumbling backward, and he almost hit the ground, but the stranger grabbed his arm just in time to steady him.

“Watch where you’re going!” Jungkook barked, yanking his arm away. He didn’t even stop to consider that it was, in fact, his own fault. The person in front of him barely reacted.

The man looked… disheveled. His breathing was ragged, his clothes were slightly dirty, and his wide eyes darted around like he was looking for someone—or running from someone. Jungkook’s tirade didn’t seem to faze him at all.

“Hello? Are you deaf? I said watch where you’re going!” Jungkook snapped again.

The man turned to him for the briefest second, his face pale and full of anxiety. “You’re not worth saving,” he muttered coldly before shoving Jungkook aside and breaking into a run.

Jungkook stumbled, falling onto the ground with a grunt. “Hey! What’s your problem?” he yelled after the man, but the stranger didn’t even glance back. He disappeared into the crowd like a shadow, leaving Jungkook fuming on the sidewalk.

“Great. Just great,” Jungkook groaned as he dusted himself off and got to his feet. “First Wojin, and now this. What’s next? A pigeon craps on me?” He glanced at the sky suspiciously but saw no immediate bird threats.

Still, the interaction left a sour taste in his mouth, and as he walked aimlessly down the street, his stomach growled loudly. He patted his pocket, knowing full well it was empty. “I need to find something, anything,” he muttered. “At this rate, I’m going to starve to death.”

Jungkook’s eyes scanned the street for opportunities. Maybe he could scrounge up some loose change somewhere, or if he was desperate enough… he didn’t let himself finish the thought. He wasn’t going to stoop to that level. Not yet, at least.

As he turned a corner, he spotted an elderly woman standing nervously at the edge of a busy street. She clutched a small shopping bag in one hand and a cane in the other, her frail frame trembling slightly as cars zoomed past her.

Jungkook hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t his responsibility. He had his own problems to deal with. But as he looked at her, something inside him stirred. With a resigned sigh, he approached her.

“Ma’am, do you need help crossing the street?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

The old woman looked up at him with surprised but kind eyes. “Oh, bless you, young man. I’ve been standing here for so long, waiting for the traffic to calm down, but it never does.”

“Yeah, that’s Seoul for you,” Jungkook said with a small smile. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

He offered his arm, and she gratefully took it. Jungkook kept a sharp eye on the cars and gently guided her to the other side. Once they were safely across, the woman turned to him, her smile warm and genuine.

“Thank you so much, dear. You have a kind heart,” she said.

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck, feeling slightly embarrassed. “It’s no big deal. Just doing what anyone else would.”

“Not everyone would,” she said knowingly. She paused, studying him for a moment. “Have you eaten, young man?”

Jungkook blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Uh, not really. I was just about to… you know…” He trailed off, unwilling to admit that he had no idea where his next meal was coming from.

The old woman’s expression softened. “Why don’t you come home with me? I’ve just made dinner, and I’d love the company. It’s the least I can do to thank you.”

Jungkook stared at her, his stomach answering before his brain could. It growled loudly, and the old woman chuckled. “That settles it,” she said, patting his arm. “Come along, dear.”

Normally, Jungkook would’ve hesitated, wary of strangers and their intentions. But desperation has a way of silencing doubt. He nodded and followed her down the street, feeling a strange sense of relief for the first time in days.

When they reached her modest little house, Jungkook was overwhelmed by the smell of home-cooked food wafting from the kitchen. The woman insisted he sit at the small table while she served him a plate of steaming rice, kimchi, and a hearty bowl of stew.

As Jungkook dug in, the old woman watched him with a smile. “You remind me of my grandson,” she said fondly. “He’s about your age. Always getting into trouble, but he has a good heart, just like you.”

Jungkook paused mid-bite, feeling an unexpected lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he said quietly, the words heavier than they should’ve been.

The old woman sat across from him, a gentle smile on her face as she watched him. She sipped her tea slowly, “You can slow down, I won't snatch it from you,” she said with a soft laugh.

Jungkook paused mid-bite to look at her, his cheeks stuffed with rice. He swallowed quickly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Sorry. It’s just… been a while since I had a proper meal.”

“No need to apologize, dear. I’m happy to see you enjoying it,” she said kindly. Then, after a moment’s silence, she leaned forward slightly. “Tell me, what do you do? For work, I mean.”

Jungkook froze for a second, the question catching him off guard. Normally, he would’ve lied or deflected, but something about her warm presence made him let his guard down.

“I’m, uh… jobless right now,” he admitted, setting his spoon down. “I used to work at a publishing company, but I got fired a couple of months ago. There was a misunderstanding, and… well, now I’m just trying to get by.”

The old woman nodded, “And where do you live?”

Jungkook hesitated but answered anyway. “I rent this tiny room next to the library. It’s nothing special—just a bed and a window. But it’s cheap, and that’s all I can afford.” He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this. I usually don’t talk about it.”

“Sometimes, it helps to talk to someone,” she said, her voice gentle. “Especially someone who listens without judgment.”

Jungkook glanced at her, surprised by how much her words resonated with him. He didn’t say anything, just nodded and returned to his food.

After a while, the old woman spoke again. “Let me ask you something.”

He looked up from his plate, his mouth still half-full. “Hmm?”

“Do you want to play a game?” she asked.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, swallowing before he responded. “A game? Ma’am, right now, I feel like I’m already playing with my life. And trust me, I’m losing.”

The old woman chuckled at his humor, “No, no. I mean a real game. One where you can make a lot of money. Enough to pay off your debts and turn your life around.”

Jungkook stared at her, unsure if she was joking or serious. “What kind of game are we talking about here? Monopoly? Poker?” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Nothing complicated,” she replied, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small business card. She slid it across the table toward him.

Jungkook picked it up hesitantly, his eyes scanning the card. It was plain, with a single phone number printed in bold black letters. There was no name, no logo, no other information. Just the number.

“What’s this?” he asked, flipping the card over.

“It’s an invitation,” she said simply. “If you call that number, you’ll be given a chance to play some simple games. If you win, you’ll earn more money than you’ve ever dreamed of. Enough to change your life.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows, turning the card over again as if he had missed something. “Is this a joke?” he asked skeptically. “Because if it is, it’s not very funny.”

The old woman shook her head, her expression serious. “It’s not a joke. But the choice is yours. You don’t have to call if you don’t want to. I just thought… well, you seem like someone who could use a little help.”

Jungkook stared at her, trying to gauge if she was being genuine or messing with him.

“Well,” he said finally, slipping the card into his pocket. “Thanks, I guess. I don’t know if I’ll call, but… thanks for the meal. It really meant a lot.”

The old woman smiled warmly. “You’re welcome, dear. Just remember, sometimes opportunities come in strange forms. Don’t dismiss them too quickly.”

Jungkook gave her a small nod, unsure of what to say. He stood, thanked her again, and made his way out of the house. As he walked back to his tiny room, the card burned in his pocket, its presence impossible to ignore. He couldn’t decide if it was the promise of money, the mystery behind the card, or his desperation, but something about it felt… different.

When he finally reached his room and flopped onto his bed, he pulled the card out again and stared at it. The words of the old woman echoed in his mind.

“Simple games,” he muttered to himself, flipping the card between his fingers. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

With a sigh, he picked up the card and dialed the number. The line rang twice before a voice on the other end answered.

“Hello,” said a calm voice. “Thank you for calling. Are you ready to participate in the games?”

Jungkook blinked, momentarily thrown off by how matter-of-fact they sounded. “Uh, yeah, I guess,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “What do I need to do?”

“First, we’ll need some basic information,” the voice said. “Your name, age, and current occupation.”

“Okay,” Jungkook replied cautiously. “My name’s Jeon Jungkook, I’m 27, and… well, I’m unemployed.”

There was a brief pause on the other end before the voice continued. “Noted. Now, listen carefully. You are to come to the location we will send you. Arrive alone.” They rattled off an address that Jungkook didn’t recognize but noted down on a scrap piece of paper.

“Wait, why do I have to come alone?” Jungkook interrupted, suspicion creeping into his voice. “What kind of weird game is this? You expect me to just show up at some random place without knowing what’s going on? I bet you guys are trying to murder me or rob me or something!”

The voice on the other end was silent for a moment before replying, completely unfazed. “Mr. Jeon, what do you even have that we could possibly rob you of?”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped, and he gripped the phone tighter in indignation. “Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he snapped, his voice rising. “I may not be rolling in cash, but I’m not some nobody you can just disrespect like that!”

The person on the other end didn’t respond to his outburst. Instead, they continued in the same calm tone. “Come to the address on time. If you’re late, you forfeit your chance to participate. Goodbye.”

Before Jungkook could yell at them further, the line went dead.

“Unbelievable!” he shouted at his phone, tossing it onto the bed. “Who do they think they are, talking to me like that? ‘What do you even have?’ Ugh!”

He paced the tiny room, muttering angrily under his breath. But no matter how frustrated he felt, the words from the call lingered in his mind: “If you’re late, you forfeit your chance to participate.”

Jungkook glanced at the card. As much as he hated to admit it, he was intrigued. What kind of games could possibly involve such mystery and secrecy? And more importantly, was the promise of money real?

────୨ৎ────

Is the first chapter interesting ?