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Years.

That’s exactly how long Jimin had spent perfecting the art of the impossible:

Stealth.

Precision.

Concentration.

The cold night air stung his skin, sharp and unforgiving. Yet, it wasn’t the icy wind that sent shivers down his spine.

It was the thrill—the electric pulse of anticipation humming through his veins as he crouched in the shadows outside the Sebastian clan mansion.

The imposing structure rose before him, its sharp edges silhouetted against the faint glow of the moon.

Everything about it screamed wealth and arrogance, from the ornate iron gates to the sprawling gardens lit by hidden floodlights.

Jimin’s lips curled into a smirk. They really thought they could keep someone like him out.

Funny.

The night clung to him like a cloak, his tight black ensemble blending him seamlessly into the darkness.

Tactical cargo pants hugged his legs, while a fitted jacket concealed the arsenal strapped to his belt—lockpicks, smoke bombs, a sleek black taser, and a small but wickedly effective set of gadgets.

Jimin was the embodiment of efficiency and danger.

Silent. Deadly. Untouchable.

Sliding into the estate grounds had been child’s play. Now, as he crouched behind an ornate statue of some long-dead nobleman, Jimin felt the familiar weight of his mission settle in his chest. It wasn’t fear—it was exhilaration.

The voice crackled in his earpiece, soft but steady. “I’m in, Tuna,” Jimin murmured, barely audible. His words were clipped, precise, like his every movement.

On the other end, “Tuna” responded with his usual casual tone. “Good job, Pabo. Eyes are everywhere, so don’t mess it up.”

Jimin rolled his eyes at the deliberate jab. Pabo. It wasn’t even clever.

But Tuna didn’t need to be clever—he just needed to stay sharp. Tuna was his handler, his unseen ally, watching every move through live feeds and guiding him past danger.

“Relax,” Jimin drawled, his voice laced with the kind of confidence only years of experience could justify. “I’ve got this.”

“Uh-huh,” Tuna replied dryly. “You’re a regular panther, aren’t you?”

Jimin smirked. “Black. Fast. Silent. And better looking than you.”

“Keep talking, and you’ll trip over your own ego,” Tuna shot back.

Jimin grinned but said nothing. He was already moving, eyes locked on the laser grid ahead.

The faint red lines stretched across the hallway like a spiderweb spun by some malevolent architect.

The beams were subtle, nearly invisible, but deadly all the same.

Jimin crouched low, his sharp eyes scanning the pattern. This wasn’t about luck—it was about skill.

Years of practice had honed his body into a weapon of precision.

“Tuna,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “If anyone could see me right now, they’d think I was performing Swan Lake.”

“More like Pabo Lake. Don’t get cocky, or you’ll end up in a cage,” Tuna replied, unimpressed.

Jimin ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. He moved like liquid shadow, gliding under the first beam and twisting his body to avoid the next.

The lasers seemed alive, their soft hum barely audible as Jimin weaved through them. His breathing was shallow, controlled. Each step was measured, deliberate.

“You’re looking good, Pabo,” Tuna’s voice came through the earpiece, faintly amused. “For now.”

Jimin didn’t respond. His movements spoke for themselves.

The last laser was the trickiest, hovering just above the floor. Without hesitation, Jimin dropped into a smooth roll, his body clearing the beam with millimeters to spare.

He landed in a crouch, silent and poised, the epitome of grace under pressure.

“Done,” he whispered, rising to his full height.

Way Ahead, two guards stood at the end of the corridor, their quiet conversation punctuated by the occasional sweep of their flashlights.

Jimin pressed himself against the wall, his sharp mind already calculating. He couldn’t risk a direct confrontation—not yet.

“Two guards,” he murmured into his mic.

“Handle it,” Tuna replied, the faintest hint of a challenge in his tone.

Jimin smirked, already reaching for his utility belt. From it, he pulled a small black smoke bomb, its matte finish glinting faintly in the dim light.

The bomb hit the floor with a soft clink, and within seconds, thick, dark smoke billowed out, consuming the hallway in an impenetrable cloud.

“What the—” one guard started, coughing as he stumbled backward.

Jimin moved like lightning. In the chaos, the guards never saw him coming.

His taser was in his hand before the first man could react. A sharp jolt of electricity sent him crumpling to the floor.

The second guard barely had time to turn before Jimin struck again. The taser connected, and he dropped like a sack of bricks.

“Guards neutralized,” Jimin whispered, his voice calm despite the adrenaline coursing through him.

“Impressive,” Tuna admitted. “For a pabo.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and continued forward. “It's pablo, dumbass.”

The final stretch was upon him. Motion sensors lined the next hallway, their faint glow betraying their presence.

These were no joke—a single misstep would trigger the alarms and turn his quiet heist into a nightmare.

Jimin knelt, pulling out a small, handheld device designed to disable the sensors. His fingers moved quickly, with the practiced ease of someone who had done this a thousand times.

“Tuna,” he said, his voice steady, “remind me to give your tech guy a raise.”

“I’ll pass the message along,” Tuna replied, amused. “If you don’t screw this up.”

The device beeped softly, indicating the sensors were disarmed. Jimin rose, exhaling slowly. “Done. Moving on.”

“Nice work, Pabo. You’re halfway there.”

Jimin smirked, his confidence unwavering. Halfway? He was in the home stretch.

The vault loomed ahead, its steel door a stark contrast to the opulence of the mansion.

Jimin’s eyes zeroed in on the target: a priceless painting framed in gold, hanging on the far wall.

He moved quickly, his lock-picking tools already in hand. The lock didn’t stand a chance against him. Within moments, the door creaked open.

The painting was exquisite, its vibrant colors almost glowing in the dim light.

Jimin allowed himself a brief moment of admiration before carefully lifting it from its place.

“Got it,” he whispered, the faintest note of satisfaction in his voice.

But before he could move, the sound of a door slamming open shattered the silence.

“Shit.”

Jimin froze, his heart hammering in his chest. He wasn’t alone anymore.

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Oh.my.god, I’m buzzing with excitement! First chapters always hit different, and I can already feel the obsession kicking in. Updates are gonna be flying out because I just can’t stop myself! Don’t forget to vote and comment, pookies—your love keeps me going! Let me know all your thoughts because I’m dying to hear them

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