The modernly decorated, spacious living room resounded with low, pacifying music as Jungkook perused Jin Mo’s file once again before going to sleep. It was a habit of his for the past three years. His only concern, his only goal and purpose in life, was to get Jin Mo. He owed it to his most beloved and important person, who wasn’t alive anymore. 

He owed it to his hyung. His hyung Kang Ho, so he could give him justice. So that his soul could finally rest in peace. So that Kang Ho, their parents, and Jungkook himself could get closure. He had to catch Jin Mo, no matter what.

He had to catch his hyung’s killer. 

With an uneasy feeling clenching his chest, he shut the file and rose to his feet to place it in the safe where all his important items were. He turned off the music and switched off the lights before trudging towards his room. 

His house wasn’t lavish or outrageously big; it had a commodious living room, two normal bedrooms with double beds and one bathroom. It also had a broad unnecessary parking space, which he once was planning to restructure it into a yard with grass and maybe a porch swing. But with the death of his hyung, every plan he had made with him vanished and never crossed his mind again over the past three years. 

They bought that house together and lived together since Jungkook came of age. It was still difficult at times to continue living in that house. All the memories... Everything was too much for him sometimes. Maybe that was why he hadn’t changed a thing in that house since his hyung’s loss. And he wouldn’t do it in the future either. 

Slipping under the covers to the left side of the bed as he usually did, he released a soft sigh and smacked the light switch above his head, the room plunging into complete darkness instantly. The bizarre uneasiness still gnawed at his chest as he attempted to empty his head from useless thoughts of the previous events with Taehyung.

The victory was sweet, but the aftermath left a sour taste behind. He did feel just a smidgen of remorse for the harsh words he spewed at him. On the other hand, though, why did he care? He was curt to almost everyone, and Taehyung was no different. 

Several minutes of utter silence crawled by, and beside that uneasiness prickling his chest, a foreboding bloomed. His eyes popped open, wide and alert, at the creepy sense behind him, and he dragged his hand down the side of the bed, wanting to reach for his gun that was attached to the bottom, but a click and a light whoosh froze him up. He knew this combination of sounds all too well; whoever was behind him just drew out their gun. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” 

Jungkook slowly raised his hands at the unknown, gruff voice and twisted his head at a creep to look at the intruder as he sat straighter. “Who are you?” 

“You don’t need to know.” The door burst open then and three more masked people entered. The one turned on the lights and the other two neared him. “You have something we want.”

“And what’s that?” He scanned each one in depth, trying to recognize or distinguish anything, but all he could see were their eyes. 

“A cube. A metallic cube. Where is it?”

A nonplussed look tightened his features even more and made his vision swim in a pool of startle and dumbfoundedness. “What?” 

One of the men grunted as he charged towards him and yanked his hair hard enough to pin him to the bed. “Answer the fucking question.” 

Jungkook instinctively grasped his wrist but loosened his hold right away at the consecutive tsk sounds of caution that the masked man with the gun still pointed at him released. “Keep your hands above your head if you don’t want to die, detective.”

He ground his jaw, his forehead puckered with absolute gorge, but he complied, and thankfully the other guy shoved him to the side and retreated. “Why do you want the cube? Who sent you?” 

“Come on, detective Jeon Jungkook. You’re smarter than that. Why on earth would we tell you that?”

“Did... Did Taehyung... No, no way,” he murmured to himself as he lowered his eyes in a mystified maze and disbelief. No, there’s no way Taehyung is capable of doing this. He’s just a sales associate, for fuck’s sake! 

“What are you babbling? Just tell us where it is.” 

Jungkook knew he was trapped. There was no getting out of this, even though he was an exceptionally skilled detective. Right then, he was nothing. It was humiliating to have four people breaking into his house and being completely unaware of it. To have one of them pointing a gun at him and being unable to do anything about it. So he swallowed his blackened pride and let his head hang in defeat. “Third drawer of the desk behind you. The keys are attached to the underside of the bed.”

The man who grabbed his hair before squatted seconds later and searched for the keys. He tugged them once he located them and pushed himself to his feet, treading towards the desk. He unlocked the drawer and spotted the cube right away, as only three items were in there. “Is this it?”

The man holding the gun nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go. But before we leave...” He approached Jungkook with slow, menacing steps and halted in front of him, pressing the barrel of his gun in the center of his forehead. “Be careful, detective. We won’t be that nice the next time.” The smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth evaporated as he smacked the butt of his gun into the side of his face, sending him crashing down into the bed. 

Jungkook clutched the bedsheets as the intruders walked off, breathing heavily through his flared nostrils. He hovered on the brink of outrage, which was caused by his embarrassment at the situation he never thought he’d be in. He loathed feeling helpless, powerless, trapped. And he was all these things at once a few moments ago. 

He drove his fist into the mattress in the devouring salvo of fury that cracked through his effort to appease himself and jumped off the bed. He examined his face in the mirror and traced the reddened bump on his cheek with his finger, slightly hissing at the throbbing pain. How the fuck will I explain what happened? He gripped his hair in exasperation, an animal growl erupting from his mouth, and banged both fists against the nightstand, blowing down all the items on it. 

He was breathless with anger as he snatched his phone and stamped out, heading towards the monitor room to find answers to the spate of questions. How did they get in? Why didn’t his alarm go off? Why didn’t he get a notification on his phone about any movement outside and inside the house? 

He pressed the button to unlock his phone, but his face crumpled as the screen didn’t light up. “What the hell?” He pressed the button longer and then the screen lit up a couple of seconds later. “Why the fuck was my phone turned off?” He truly couldn’t understand was happening. 

He dumped the phone onto the desk and opened a folder on the computer with today’s saved footage. He rewound it to the moment he entered the house and let it play in fast-forward. The four men popped up outside the house about an hour later when Jungkook was taking a shower. How did they have such perfect timing? How did they know when to break in? It didn’t make sense. 

He watched as one of them placed a device on the lock and then focused on his tablet. In under four minutes, the door clicked open, and they slithered inside. “What the fuck is that device now?” he muttered to himself, his rage swelling more and more. He followed the one who went into his room and slid under the right side of the bed, then he monitored the other three who went... “No. These motherfuckers.” He exploded out of his seat and sprinted to his hyung’s room. He flung the door open and scoped the place in search of any stolen item or any difference. 

Finding everything as it was before, a deep sigh of relief seeped out of his mouth, and he swallowed through his ragged breaths as he returned to the monitor room. He re-watched the moment they confronted him and followed them as they exited his house. 

Before leaving, though, one of the masked men stopped and looked up into the camera. He lifted his full-face until his mouth was revealed and said something. Jungkook’s brows squeezed harder together as he zoomed in on his mouth and played it in slow motion. With the high definition cameras he had installed, it didn’t take long to figure out what he said. “Come and get us, detective Jeon Jungkook. If you can, of course.” 

Jungkook sank his teeth into his bottom lip, suppressing the screams of frustration that dangled on the tip of his tongue. Then, something thundered down on him that mitigated his wrath. The gun that guy had. It was a Kel-Tec gun — the mark Jin Mo usually used. But he couldn’t recognize the model. Is it a new gun? 

He quickly searched for any new Kel-Tec guns on the internet and stumbled upon the release of Kel-Tec P15 in the second quarter of 2022. He studied the gun thoroughly and compared it with the gun that guy was holding. 

It was identical. 

How is this possible? It’s still December 2021. It hasn’t even been released yet. Jungkook rubbed his face at his thoughts but hissed in pain as he forgot about his bloated cheek. Were they really Jin Mo’s men? How did they find out about the cube? What did Jin Mo have to do with this? Why did they need it back so much that they even broke into a detective’s house? 

The tide of unanswered questions spiraled in a dizzying circle in his head until the very moment he lay in his bed again to sleep. 

Something was off. Nothing made sense. And Taehyung was the link to everything. 

🥀

His swollen cheek appeared to have worsened the next morning as he reexamined it. The ruddiness had subsided, and instead a mauve tint had taken over it. At least it didn’t get my eye. A sigh tumbled out of him as he executed his morning routine, getting ready fast so he could go to the station as soon as possible. 

Arriving an hour earlier than usual, he sneaked into the station with his head down and his hood on, pattering towards his desk. His squad wasn’t there yet, and he successfully got the information he wanted with no one inquiring him. 

With Taehyung’s address typed into the GPS, he slipped his helmet on again and drove off. That guy had to know something about what happened. There was no other explanation. And he wouldn’t leave if he didn't get the answers he needed. 

After the forty-minute ride, he parked his motorcycle outside of the normal-sized house and trudged to the door, his eyes mulling over the quiet surrounding area. He rang the doorbell once and waited, though he got no response. He began pressing the bell on repeat, each prod harsher than the previous one, and the door finally flew open. 

“Who the hell—oh. Who are you?” 

Jungkook stared in stupefaction at the half-asleep, unfamiliar man standing in front of him. “Um... Who are you?”

“You just rang my bell a thousand times and woke me up, man. You should know who I am if you’re here.”

“Where’s Seon Taehyung?” 

“I am.” 

“What?” he questioned, creases of pure bewilderment etching on his face. “No, you’re not the one I’m looking for. Does another Seon Taehyung live here?” 

“No.” 

“How long do you live here?” 

“About a year, I think.”

Did he just fall upon another fucking mystery? He couldn’t believe what was happening again. “Do you know who lived here before you?” 

“No, I have no idea.”

“Okay. Sorry for disturbing you.” He bowed his head and set off at a creep. He found his scattered thoughts spinning with bemusement as he climbed over his motorcycle, and despite his endeavors to tame the vortex of unanswered questions, mixed speculations, and unreasonable accusations, he failed. He needed answers. And he would get them no matter what. 

He decided to drive to Gangdong-gu, the place Taehyung was caught yesterday, hoping he would see him there since it was his hang-out place, as he had said. It was still early in the morning, though, and the chances of running into him were slim, if not nonexistent. 

He drove around the area for a few minutes before stopping at the exact spot Taehyung was caught; he saw in Jeosun’s report of the other two guys that they were sitting at a concrete circular bench in the park across a cafe when the police arrived. Jeosun always wrote every small detail in his reports. 

He assessed the narrow cafe, noting the few empty tables outside and inside, and edged closer to the business. He pushed the door open and tilted his head in a bow to the young-looking guy who was behind the counter. “Hi. I'm detective Jeon Jungkook.” He flashed his badge. “Have you seen this guy before?” He showed him the picture he had taken from his file and noticed the barista’s lips stretching into a sweet smile right away. 

“Yes, that’s Taehyung. He comes here often to drink his favorite strawberry milk.” 

“M-milk?” he echoed in disbelief, his jaw hanging open. He could never imagine that Taehyung would be into that. But on the other hand, he didn’t know what Taehyung was into since he, apparently, knew nothing about him. “Anyway, what time does he usually come here?” 

“There’s no “usually” with him. He comes literally any time.”

“Fine, when you see him, can you tell him—” 

“Oh?” The barista craned his neck to look outside. “I think that was him. He just passed the cafe.” 

“Thank you!” Jungkook made haste to walk out of the cafe and instantly glanced to his left. He located three guys sauntering side by side and neared them. “Taehyung.”

The said man halted in his tracks and processed the voice, although it wasn’t necessary; he could recognize it in a split second. And that was why he didn’t turn around. “I thought you said you didn’t want to see me again.”

“I don’t. But I have to talk to you about something.”

Taehyung sniffed and puffed up his chest, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Not interested. Let’s go, guys.”

The intensity of Jungkook’s eye roll at his blunt response was so high it felt like his orbs would pop out. With a subdued groan thrusting out of his mouth, he charged towards him and gripped his forearm. “Just come with me.” He tugged him to the opposite direction, but Taehyung whipped his hand away. 

“I told you not to drag me,” he spat in a vexed murmur, his glaring eyes gouging holes into him, but his purplish, tumid cheek came into focus and almost softened his gaze. Dismissing the traces of curiosity about his injury that even subsided his irritation, Taehyung held their stare for a couple more strained seconds and then glanced at his friends. “Just wait a minute.” He took off then, with Jungkook trailing behind him without delay. Once he was far enough from his friends, he twisted around and crossed his arms over his chest, fixing Jungkook with a stony, rather bored look. “So?” 

“Why isn’t your address valid?” 

“Address?” Crinkles of bafflement distorted his indifferent veneer at the unexpected inquiry. 

“Yes. I went to your house and some other Seon Taehyung was living there.” 

“Oh. I moved out.” He lifted an idle shoulder as his previous nonchalance ruled over his countenance again. 

“And you didn’t change your address?” Jungkook asked in disbelief, his brows standing in two high curves. 

“Do I have to...?” he uttered falteringly. “Doesn’t that change automatically?" 

“Are you serious right now?” Jungkook snapped, frustration painting over his traits and darkening his gaze. “Of course not. It’s a crime not to change your address within thirty days after moving.” 

Taehyung’s mouth dropped open as he stared with blatant shock. “I didn’t know! I’ll change it today, really. Don’t arrest me, detective.” His tense voice petered into a simpering whisper, his lips pursing into a slight pout as he gazed at him beneath his lashes.

Jungkook gave another automatic eye roll at his coy manner, accompanied by a tsk sound. “Anyway. They broke into my house yesterday.” 

“Okay. Why are you telling me this?” 

He surveyed his expression with probing eyes, finding not even a scintilla of surprise or any sort of emotion. “You’re not surprised.” 

“No.” 

“Because you knew about it?” 

“Because I don’t care, Jungkook,” he fired back, his tone a cross between exasperation and affront. “What the hell do you mean I knew about it?” 

“Well, they asked for your cube.” 

A convulsive spasm passed over his face as his eyes grew unnaturally wide, his tangled arms unfurling and drooping to his sides. “What? No,” he said, the flare of consternation coiling inside him so fierce it managed to quicken his breath. “No, no, no, no, no, please tell me you didn’t actually give it to them.” 

Taken aback by his frantic reaction, Jungkook found it hard to keep eye contact and had to glance away. “They had a gun pointed at me. Of course I did.”

“Are you fucking serious?” 

His gaze darted to him again at the agitated, angered voice that rolled into his ears, and he studied him in silence for a short while. “You really have no idea about it?” 

“I’m just a sales associate, you idiot!” Taehyung exclaimed. “Where the hell would I find them to send them to you?”

“But you were the only one who knew I had that cube in my house. It doesn’t make sense.”

“That cube is an important item. It’s not just a fucking toy. And before you start firing me with questions, no, you don’t need to know what it is.”

A glint of anger sparked in his eyes as yesterday’s events and all he had to go through surged through his mind. “They broke into my house, Taehyung. They pointed a gun at me. They fucking hit me. I have to know what this is about!”

“You’re a detective. You’re used to it,” he said with mild contempt. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Jungkook muttered as he ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “Anyway. I can’t deal with you anymore.”

“Anyway? Yah, you lost my cube!” Taehyung barked at him, his hands curling into fists in an attempt to contain himself from punching him right then and there. “You have no idea how important it is to me!” 

“I didn’t lose it. They stole it from me. You lost it in the first place!” 

“And you acted like a stubborn ten-year-old instead of just giving it back!” 

“Whatever! Fuck off.”

Taehyung watched as Jungkook stormed away, and he half unzipped his bag to reach inside. The scowl adorning his characteristics altered into a smirk as he tossed his beloved cube-shaped item in the air gently and grasped it again, his eyes sparkling in thrill. Told you you’ll regret it, jackass. He giggled to himself as he placed his cube back in his bag and trod towards his friends. 

“What did he want?” asked Jimin. 

“He told me someone broke into his house and took my cube. And I nailed the shocked acting.” A proud simper spread across his cheeks with excessive delight as they resumed their way. 

“Yeah, we saw you,” Yoongi snickered. 

“Yah, it’s not funny,” Jimin berated with a disgruntled moue as he nudged his shoulder. “What you did was dangerous, Tae. Coaxing me into hacking a detective’s system and putting our guys to break into his house. He suspected you, right?” 

“Well, yeah, but I’m just a sales associate, remember?” He sent him a foxy, knowing look as he chuckled fiendishly, but his laugh caught up in his throat with the abrupt realization that toppled over him. “These fuckers hit him. I told them not to hit him.”

“Well, you didn’t actually say that,” Yoongi put in. “You said not to hit him too much.”

“Yeah, and you saw what they did to his cheek. That’s too much.”

Jimin leveled an inquisitive stare at him — a stare designed to ferret out the reason for his seething voice that was underlined with vestiges of concern. But his expression was neutral, frosty even, with only a moderate twist between his brows. “You sound like you care.”

“I don’t,” he opposed at once, and a titter slipped from his throat at the preposterous statement. “It’s just sad to see such a pretty face hurt.” 

“Why? Does it make you want to kiss it better?” Jimin asked in a baby tone, adding a fleer just to strengthen his mockery. 

“Screw you, Chim,” he shot back in the same way, though he snorted upon hearing his friends’ chuckles. 

“You didn't tell us why he has your cube, though,” Jimin pointed out. 

Taehyung cleared his throat. “That's not important. Also, he went to Seon’s house, and he knows I don’t live there. You have to change my address.” 

“And what? Put your real address?” Any shade of mirth died out of Jimin’s face and instead worry tugged at his eyes. 

“I don’t know. I told him I’d change my address today because he said it’s a crime or whatever. I don’t want any relations with the fucking police anymore. I have no idea what’s the right move to do here.”

The cold breeze waving against the trees mixed with mild chatter from the passersby was the sole thing that could be heard for a while as the three men dove into their thoughts, contemplating the situation and trying to devise a plan for the safety of Taehyung’s identity. 

A sigh sounded from Jimin as he rubbed his temples and then let his hand glide down his face, starkly bothered by the intractable matter. “I think I have to put your real address. If he by any chance looks for you again and doesn’t find you, he won’t let it slide.”

Although equally discontented and peeved like his two friends, Taehyung nodded. “Okay. I’ll go visit my hyung now. It won’t take long, so don’t go far. We have to discuss the deal Sieun is preparing.”

“Is it about drugs?” Yoongi asked in a quiet tone. 

“Firearms. I’ll tell you the details later. See you soon.”

“Bye, Tae,” Jimin said with a smile, and Yoongi parroted him as their friend bundled off. 

. . .

Once Jungkook returned to the station, he faced a whirlwind of inquiries about his swollen cheek from his team members and was forced to recount the events that took place. He then asked Seokjin to check for any sign of hacking in his security system, and he found traces, as he had thought.

“They did an amazing—no, an expert job, Kook,” Seokjin said in awe. “I almost missed it because it was so, so little, but there was an increase in data usage, which is a sign of being hacked.”

“How the hell did they hack my system so easily and so fast?” Jungkook spat out as his clenched fist that was resting on the desk quivered in rage. 

“There’s a process, and it takes time, but it depends on how strong your security system is and how good the hacker is. It probably took them about fifty minutes. I could have done it under forty minutes, but oh well.” Seokjin gave one of those self-bragging shrugs that came with a smug, carefree smile. 

His demeanor had the three of them chuckling and Jungkook snorting, despite the messed-up situation. “So they hacked my system and they could see me then? From my cameras?” 

“Yeah. That’s how they knew when to break in. And about the device they used, I haven’t seen it before. It seems like a state-of-the-art device, though. I can look into it more if you want.”

“Yes, thank you. Can you also strengthen my security system and add a trap or something?” 

“I got you. Don’t worry,” Seokjin reassured.

“So they broke into your house and just asked for that cube?” Namjoon questioned, endeavoring to comprehend what exactly happened to his dongsaeng and why. 

“Yes.”

“Whose cube is it?”

“I told you, my last one-night stand dropped it.”

“But who is this guy? Is he into some weird stuff? Like, you know, illegal?” Hoseok asked this time. 

“I didn’t know who he was until yesterday. He’s Seon Taehyung. One of the four guys that came here and was accused of prostitution, but it was just a misunderstanding. He’s a sales associate and doesn’t have a criminal record. But something just feels off about him.” Jungkook’s face darkened the more he delved into the mystery that was Taehyung, but Namjoon’s next inquiry prevented him from sinking into the havoc of thoughts rampaging through his head. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s his cube. He was the only one who knew I had that cube in my house. I actually went to his house this morning and there was another Seon Taehyung living there. I happened to find him at the place he was caught yesterday and asked him about his address, and he said that he moved and just didn’t change it. He also said he had no idea about yesterday’s break-in. But how is it possible?”

“Did he seem truthful?” Namjoon asked. 

“Yeah. He didn’t seem to know anything. And he was pissed because I lost his cube. But I still don’t get it.”

“Maybe someone was after that cube and somehow found out that Taehyung lost it and—” 

“And what?” Jungkook snarled, cutting Seung Ho off. “They thought it was easier to steal it from me, a fucking detective, than some sales associate?” 

“Well, maybe there’s something about Taehyung that we don’t know,” Seung Ho let out carefully, not wanting to infuriate his leader more. Usually he wouldn’t give a damn, but he seemed quite irritable with everything he went through. 

“Didn’t you find anything about the cube?” Namjoon questioned, as he aimed an eager look at Seokjin. 

“No. There’s no picture on the internet that matches that symbol, and I asked a friend of mine who specializes in designs, symbols, and pretty much anything related to help me. I’m still waiting to hear from him.”

“Whatever that symbol is, whatever that cube is, it’s obviously important to someone,” Hoseok chimed in. “Maybe you should keep an eye on Taehyung, Kook. At least until we find out what that cube is.”

“I don’t want any other involvement with that guy. He pisses me off.”

“Should I do it?” Seung Ho offered. 

Jungkook regarded him with stony eyes, though no emotion showed on his traits. “Fine, whatever.”

“Anything you remember about the intruders?” Seokjin asked. 

“They were wearing all black, gloves, and a full-face. But the gun one of them was holding...”

Hoseok leaned closer in sheer curiosity as Jungkook seemed sceptical, his eyes slightly growing with anticipation. “What, what?”

“It was a Kel-Tec gun. And the model hasn’t even been released in the market yet.” 

Perplexed and mildly appalled by the new information, Namjoon stared at him, trying to find any drop of uncertainty. “Are you absolutely sure?” 

“Yes, hyung. I compared the gun from the video with the new release of the Kel-Tec P15. It was identical.”

“Does this mean that Jin Mo is somehow related to the break-in?” Hoseok voiced out with great hesitation, sharing the same puzzlement with everyone. 

“But how? And why?” asked Seung Ho. 

“I really have no idea. But Jin Mo isn’t the only one who uses this mark, right?” Jungkook’s gaze flew over his team members, seeking confirmation to his remark, and he soon received a few faltering nods. “Maybe he has nothing to do with this, then.” He truly wanted to believe his own words, but something deep in his gut just didn’t feel right. 

───⭒───༺🌑༻───⭒───

We're still early in the story, but I hope it's interesting enough! Just a comment or vote is enough for me to know you're enjoying this, and it means more than you think💜