SURVEILLANCE VAN – NIGHT

The air inside the van was tense, thick with anticipation and anxiety. Dim red lights bathed the space, and every team member sat with headphones on, focused—faces drawn, eyes flicking between screens and soundboards.

Sofia’s voice buzzed through the earpieces.

"You're so strong, baby... drink more, mmh..."

Her tone was sultry, fake, dripping with practiced seduction.

Jungkook sat near the front, unmoving—jaw tight, eyes sharp like steel. He hated this. Every second of it.

Beside him, Yn sat stiffly, her back straight, headphones clamped over her ears. She was still skeptical of Sofia, but she was trying to stay professional… until—

The tone of the voice feed changed.

A chair creaked. Glass clinked. Then—

"Take your shirt off—slowly..."

Sofia’s moans followed next.

And Jungkook’s eyes widened. A heavy curse fell from his lips.

He immediately reached over and ripped the headphones off Yn’s head.

“What the hell?” she snapped, startled, looking up at him.

But he didn’t answer right away. His jaw flexed as he yanked his own headset off, tossing it to the table with barely-contained rage.

Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin all sat frozen, expressions darkening.

The moans—too clear—still echoed through their headsets. One by one, they ripped them off.

Yn looked around, confusion turning into suspicion.

“What’s going on?” she asked again, this time more firmly.

Jungkook clenched his fists.

He didn’t want her to know. Didn’t want those sounds anywhere near her ears. He turned to her with a tight, unreadable expression.

“It’s nothing. She’s in.”

“Let’s go inside. We might need to intervene soon.”

She frowned, sensing his deflection.

“You sure?”

He gave a short nod, but his eyes were cold, detached.

"Just... trust me. Don’t listen to anything else."

He stood and opened the van door, motioning for her to follow.

INSIDE THE BUILDING – LATER

As they moved inside toward the marked rendezvous point, the rest of the team split off, spreading into their positions. Jungkook’s steps were sharp, faster than usual, as if every second he had to hear Sofia’s charade made his skin crawl.

Yn followed beside him, silent, but not blind.

She knew something ugly had happened.

But one thing circled in her mind—

Why was Jungkook more affected than anyone else?

Was it protectiveness over her? Or jealousy? Or both?

She didn't know.

But she knew the look in his eyes.

He was about to destroy someone.

ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – LATER NIGHT

The air reeked of blood, sweat, and gunpowder. Bodies were scattered across the floor—guards from both sides lying still, blood slowly pooling beneath them.

Every breath was ragged. Every muscle screamed.

Jungkook, Yoongi, Taehyung, Namjoon, Jimin, Hoseok—all of them bore bruises, cuts, dried blood streaked down arms and faces. But it was done.

The deal was stopped. The drugs were seized.

They won.

But before they could regroup and exit—

“Where’s Sofia?”

Yn’s voice. Tight. Focused.

Her gaze flicked around the blood-soaked room, searching, calculating. The others didn’t answer right away—they hadn’t seen her since she lured the Red Leader into the back chambers.

And then—

“She’s not here,” Yn muttered, eyes wide.

“I’m going to check.”

“YN, wait—” Jungkook stepped forward, sensing something wrong.

But she was already moving, fast and reckless—opening room after room, one by one, ignoring blood, glass, bodies. A whisper in her gut screamed something was wrong.

Then—

A door.

Closed.

A low thumping sound.

And then—

A scream.

A woman’s scream. Sofia.

Yn froze. Her whole body locked up.

The scream wasn’t fear—it was pain. Suffering.

She didn’t think. She kicked the door open.

>“YN, NO!” Jungkook shouted, just a beat too late.

The door slammed against the wall.

And time stopped.

Inside the room—

Sofia, her body pinned brutally beneath the Red Leader, her wrists bruised, her mouth gagged, eyes red from crying. The bastard didn’t even flinch as he kept moving, grinning like a rabid animal.

And Yn—

Her breath hitched.

Her stomach twisted.

Her mind blanked.

She froze.

She couldn't scream, couldn’t move. Her heart thumped violently in her ears. She didn’t fully understand what she was seeing, but instinct told her—it was too late.

And then—

Strong hands wrapped around her eyes.

“Don’t look.”

Jungkook. His voice low, tight, shaking with rage.

She trembled, but didn’t resist. Didn’t fight.

She just stood still as he pulled her back, shielding her from the horror.

Her arms hung limp. Her lips parted.

But no sound. No tears.

Just—numbness.

Jungkook didn’t look back as he led her down the hall. His eyes were pure venom.

As they exited, the others looked up—and froze.

Something was wrong.

Yn’s face was pale. Her expression was empty.

Her whole body radiated shock.

Jungkook passed her gently to Jimin, whispering something.

Then he turned to one of his guards.

“Room three.”

“Take her out. Sofia lives. That bastard doesn’t.”

His voice was cold, mechanical—devoid of hesitation.

“If he begs, don’t shoot. Use a blade.”

And with that, he walked back to the van.

His fists were still clenched.

And his heart was burning.

But more than rage, he felt something else—

fear.

Fear of what this sight might’ve broken inside her.

The black van rolled up the private driveway. The mansion lights were dim, the atmosphere eerily quiet compared to the chaos they’d just escaped.

Inside the van—

Yn sat in the corner. Silent. Still.

Her knees were pulled to her chest, head resting back. She didn’t blink much. Didn’t move at all.

Every once in a while, someone glanced her way—worried, confused, helpless.

But no one spoke.

Except Jungkook.

He didn’t take his eyes off her the entire way.

His jaw was clenched so tight it hurt. His fingers had gone white from how tightly he gripped the seat.

Because he knew.

He knew what she saw.

And she wasn’t ready to see that.

MANSION – MOMENTS LATER

As soon as the van doors opened, Yn stepped out—fast. Her boots echoed sharply on the marble floor. She didn’t speak. Didn’t look at anyone.

Just stormed straight up the stairs.

“Yn!” Jimin called after her gently.

But the slam of her door silenced him.

Jungkook didn’t follow.

Not yet.

YN’S ROOM – NIGHT

She locked the door. Click.

Stumbled across the room.

Her chest felt like it was caving in. Like the walls were closing in. Like the air was thinner here.

Her fingers trembled as she reached the bathroom. She stepped inside, barely turning on the light. Just enough to see the tiled floor blur under her steps.

Still in her black mission clothes—blood-specked, torn, drenched in sweat and filth—

She stepped into the shower.

Didn’t undress. Didn’t think. Just turned the water on.

Freezing.

Water hit her skin like shards of glass, soaking her instantly. Her hair plastered to her face, her chest heaved—still no tears. Still none.

“What was that…?” she whispered.

Her hands pressed to the tile, water rolling down her face, mixing with the blood. Her breathing was shallow now—rapid.

The image wouldn’t leave.

Sofia’s screams.

That man’s face.

The way she didn’t even understand what was happening at first—just how it felt wrong.

And then…

“All men…” she whispered, her voice dark, cracked.

“All men are monsters.”

Her fist slammed into the cold tile.

And again.

Again.

The rage was boiling. Not the loud kind—the quiet one. The kind that built like a tsunami before it crashed.

“Is this the world he lives in?”

“Is this what he hides from me?”

“How many times has he seen this and done nothing?”

“How could I not know... what kind of hell this really is?”

Her teeth gritted, and she pulled her soaked clothes tighter around her, as if shielding herself from something that already crawled under her skin.

Not just rage.

Not just horror.

Shame.

She felt dirty for even witnessing it. For being so naive.

And yet... somewhere beneath it all—she also felt afraid.

But she wouldn’t let it show.

She’d burn that fear into fury.

“I won’t be weak.”

“I won’t be her.”

“I’ll never let anyone do this to me. Or to someone else.”

And outside the door, Jungkook stood.

Back pressed to the wood. Hands in fists.

He could hear the water running.

But what crushed him most was the silence.

Because he knew what silence meant.

Not peace.

Not control.

Collapse.

And that—

That scared him more than anything.

The sun filtered through the glass-paneled windows, casting soft golden lines across the polished floor. The usual buzz of the household was there—barely. Muted, almost as if the walls themselves knew something had shifted.

Everyone was gathered at the dining table.

Except one.

“Where’s Yn?” Jin asked quietly, pouring himself coffee.

“She hasn’t come down,” Taehyung replied, eyes locked on the stairs. “She didn’t leave her room all night.”

Jungkook said nothing.

He sat silently, one hand clutching the coffee cup like he was grounding himself, the other rubbing at the tension between his eyes.

He hadn’t slept.

He couldn’t.

The look on her face when he pulled her away from that room—he would never forget that.

FOOTSTEPS.

All eyes turned.

Yn appeared at the top of the stairs.

She walked down slowly, every movement composed, too composed. Hair damp. Eyes sharp. Expression unreadable.

She looked like herself—

But she wasn’t.

“Good morning,” she said.

Flat. Hollow.

Not one person replied for a moment. Not even Annie, who just blinked at her nervously.

“Yn…” Jin tried gently, “how are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

No emotion. No hesitation.

She pulled out a chair, sat down like nothing had happened. Began spooning food onto her plate as if she hadn’t spent the night in the shower, eyes blank, fists clenched from something unspoken.

“You didn’t show up for breakfast yesterday,” Namjoon said carefully.

“I wasn’t hungry,” she replied.

And that was it.

Jungkook stared at her. Not saying a word.

Watching the small details only he would notice.

Her grip on the fork—tight.

Her eating—mechanical.

Her eyes—never meeting his.

She didn’t even look his way.

That silence between them?

It screamed louder than any argument ever could.

GYM – LATER

Yn stood in the center of the mat, fists taped.

Punch. Punch. Punch.

She struck the heavy bag over and over. No warm-up. No care. Just rage wearing the skin of control.

Sweat dripped down her face. Her knuckles raw, breath sharp.

“You’ll break your hand like that,” came a voice from behind.

Jungkook.

She didn’t stop punching.

“Yn,” he said again, walking closer. “Talk to me.”

Punch.

“You shouldn’t have seen that,” he added, voice softer now. “You weren’t supposed to open that door—”

She snapped.

“But I did.”

She turned to him slowly, eyes blazing.

“I opened it. I saw it. I heard it. I felt it crawl under my skin and rot something inside me. And now I have to live with it.”

He stepped closer, jaw tense.

“I never wanted you to see that part of this world. I kept it from you to protect you.”

“Don’t say that,” she said coldly.

“You weren’t protecting me. You were shielding your conscience. Pretending I could stay clean in a place already soaked in blood.”

“Don’t twist my—”

“You knew how far it could go, Jungkook,” she cut him off.

“And yet you let her go. You all sat there and listened while it happened.”

His eyes flared.

“We stopped it the moment it went too far—”

“Too far?” she laughed bitterly.

“Where’s the line, Jungkook? When she stops breathing? When her body gives out? When she can’t scream anymore?”

Silence.

“I’m not blaming you,” she added quietly.

“I’m blaming myself. For ever thinking this place, this life, this mission of mine… could be done without losing something.”

“What did you lose?” he whispered.

She turned away.

“My illusion,” she murmured. “That I wasn’t like the rest of you.”

The air was heavy, a mix of tension and unsaid words. Everyone was there—Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin—sitting, waiting.

But the elephant in the room wasn’t just Yn’s silence.

It was the void between her and Jungkook—undeniable, pulsing, loud.

She barely looked at him.

He barely said anything at all.

Until Namjoon finally spoke up.

“Alright, enough of this damn silence.”

He looked straight at Jungkook. “What happened to her?”

“Something obviously did. She’s not herself.”

Everyone turned to Jungkook.

The man who had all the answers but had chosen silence—until now.

Jungkook sat still for a moment.

Shoulders rigid. Veins standing out on his neck. Jaw clenched so tightly it could shatter steel.

Then he slowly stood up. Walked toward the window, his back to them.

And finally, with a deep breath, he spoke.

“She… she saw it.”

“Saw what?” Hoseok asked, frowning.

“Sofia…” Jungkook whispered, voice rough. “She saw Sofia with the Red Leader.”

“Under him. Naked. Her legs spread. Him on top of her—fucking her senseless.”

“And Yn… she just stood there. Frozen. Her whole face—”

His fists clenched at his side, trembling.

“I was too late to stop her. She walked in before I could stop her.”

A dead silence.

No one said a word. Even Yoongi, known for his sharp tongue, looked shaken.

“Fuck,” Taehyung whispered, running a hand through his hair. “She saw that?”

Jungkook nodded, still not turning to face them.

“She didn’t scream. Didn’t speak. She just… stopped. Like her whole soul shut off. She’s been blank ever since.”

“No wonder she’s avoiding you,” Jimin muttered. “She’s trying to process something she wasn’t ready to see.”

“That wasn’t just something,” Yoongi added darkly. “It was trauma. Raw and fast.”

Namjoon leaned forward, brows furrowed.

“She’s changed,” he said. “Colder. Angrier. Distant even from Annie.”

Jungkook finally turned around, eyes rimmed with quiet rage and regret.

“She’s not just angry. She’s broken in a new way.”

“And the worst part?” he looked at all of them.

“She thinks we’re all the same.”

“She looked at me like I was one of them. Like I could’ve stopped it but chose not to.”

Silence again.

But this time, it was heavier. Because now they understood.

And they knew it wasn’t over.

To be continued...