The Next Morning

Footsteps.

They turned.

YN stepped out.

She was dressed in black cargo pants and a long-sleeved tactical shirt. Her hair was tied back into a tight ponytail. No makeup. No emotion.

But her aura?

Fire.

She looked different—not broken. Just… sharper. Empty. Purposeful.

Jungkook, standing at the hallway railing, met her eyes.

Everyone else gathered nearby fell silent.

“We start now,” she said flatly.

“We are,” Namjoon spoke gently. “But you need—”

“No. I needed time when I had someone to lose. I don’t anymore.”

Her words cut like ice.

“Mrs. Kang didn’t die so I could sit here mourning. She died because of them. The same people who killed my parents. The same face I saw that night in the fire...”

She looked at Jungkook, not blinking.

“You said we’re close. So let’s stop dragging this. I want locations. Names. Passwords. I want blood, Jungkook. You owe me that much.”

The hall went quiet.

Jungkook exhaled slowly, studying her.

He’d seen rage before—reckless rage, bitter rage.

But this?

This was focused.

Cold, unforgiving, and precise. A fury born of pain sharpened into strategy.

He gave her a slow nod.

“Alright,” he said. “Then we move.”

“Tonight, I want everything we’ve got on Wolf Syndicate out on the table,” she continued, walking past them. “I’m done being hunted. Now... I hunt.”

Jimin exchanged a glance with Taehyung.

“She’s not the same,” Jimin muttered under his breath.

“She’s not,” Taehyung replied. “She’s something more now.”

Back in the war room, the map was cleared. Digital files projected on screen.

Everyone fell into motion.

Except Jungkook.

He stood still for a long second, watching her.

There was no fear in her steps.

Just steel.

Just silence.

And beneath it… something shattered and buried deep.

You are burning, YN,” he thought to himself, fists clenching. “But I hope you don’t lose yourself in that fire.”

Because now...

the real war had begun.

The digital screens flickered to life.

The war room—usually lit with dim focus lights—was now glowing with projected maps, classified files, surveillance feeds, and holographic tech synced to Jungkook’s private systems.

Everyone was seated around the long rectangular table, except YN, who stood at the front with arms crossed, staring at the screen as if it were a battlefield.

Jungkook entered last, files in hand.

He placed them on the table and looked directly at her.

“Everything we have. Every link to the Wolf Syndicate. Every hideout, bank trail, coded communication. It’s all here.”

YN didn’t say thank you.

She just nodded—sharp and cold.

Namjoon pulled up a city map with red and white dots scattered across.

“The white ones are safe houses. Red—potential drug labs or torture cells. But one site stands out…” He tapped one blinking red dot. “This one hasn’t had a supply drop in weeks. It went dark. Which means they’re hiding something inside.”

“Or someone,” Yoongi muttered darkly, analyzing the time logs.

"We’ve hacked into two secure accounts,” said Jin. “One was tied to the bank laundering their money through foreign shells. The other…”

He handed a photo to YN.

“This is the man we believe holds the logistics intel. Shipments, names, even the man who killed your parents. We call him Rook.”

Her eyes didn’t leave the image.

“He’s the one I saw in the fire,” she said quietly.

“He has the scar. The tattoo. It was him.”

The room chilled.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“We don’t just go in guns blazing. This time… we lure him out. Trap him. If he’s the key to the Syndicate’s core—he’ll lead us straight to their commander.”

Jimin leaned forward.

“But how do we lure a ghost out of hiding?”

A brief silence.

Then YN spoke.

“Use me.”

Everyone looked at her.

“He’s already watching me. He threatened me. Said he’d find me before I found him. So let’s give him something to follow. We leak a location. One where I’ll be—alone. But I won’t be.”

Yoongi smirked.

“A trap. Bait the predator.”

“And gut him like a pig,” Taehyung added with a satisfied grin.

“No mistakes this time,” Jungkook said firmly. His voice dropped low. “We don’t get a second shot. Rook dies. But before that, we get every name out of him.”

YN met his eyes.

“Agreed.”

Namjoon distributed earpieces and mini encrypted wrist comms.

“Surveillance drones will circle from above. Suga and I will monitor audio and thermal sensors. Jimin and Taehyung take perimeter defense. Jin will run medical evac. Jungkook—close-range assault. YN—frontline.”

“And the trap site?” she asked.

Jungkook pulled up a screen showing an abandoned underground subway station outside the city.

“Dark. Isolated. And the last place he’ll expect tech to be hiding.”

“Then let’s end this,” she said, gripping the file in her hand.

The room buzzed with tension and precision. They all looked at her now—not just as a mission.

Not just a broken girl searching for vengeance.

She had become their fire.

And now… she was ready to burn down the empire.

The mansion was quiet.

Too quiet.

A storm didn’t always make noise—it simmered in silence.

YN sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers tightening the laces of her combat boots. The war gear lay around her in perfect order—her gun cleaned, blades sharpened, vest ready. Her eyes, though, were far away—haunted.

A soft knock.

She turned her head sharply, but her expression softened when she saw the little figure at the door.

“Annie,” she whispered.

The girl tiptoed in, hugging a worn-out stuffed bunny in her arms, eyes wide and sleepy.

“Why are you still awake?” YN asked, trying to sound firm but failing—her voice too gentle.

Annie frowned. “I saw your light on. Are you going somewhere?”

YN hesitated… then patted the bed beside her. Annie climbed up and snuggled beside her, resting her head on YN’s arm.

“Is it… dangerous?” she asked quietly, her small fingers brushing against the cold metal of the holstered gun on YN’s thigh.

YN didn’t answer immediately. Her jaw clenched.

“Annie,” she finally spoke, turning to look at her. “If I don’t come back—”

“Don’t say that,” Annie immediately interrupted, her little voice breaking. “Why would you say that?”

YN took a shaky breath and tucked Annie’s hair behind her ear.

“Because you deserve the truth. This world… it’s cruel. And sometimes, people leave even when they don’t want to.”

“But you…” she paused, fighting the lump in her throat, “you’ll take care of yourself, okay? You’ll listen to Jin. You’ll keep drawing those silly cats for Taehyung and teasing Jimin. And you won’t forget me.”

Annie’s lower lip quivered. “I won’t let you go. You’re my hero.”

That hit harder than any bullet could.

YN shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, her mask was almost back on—but this time it cracked at the edges.

“I’ll try my best to come back. For you.”

She kissed Annie’s forehead, and the girl, with tears slipping down her cheeks, whispered:

“I’ll wait.”

Across the mansion, Jungkook stood by the window of his room, shirtless, drenched in moonlight. His gun lay on the bedside table, untouched. His bed hadn’t been touched either.

He couldn't sleep.

Not because of nerves. Not because of strategy.

But because of her.

“Why the hell can’t I stop thinking about her tonight?” he muttered under his breath.

Something felt off in his gut.

A sharp pulse in his spine. A voice in his head whispering: Something will go wrong.

His eyes flicked toward the hallway.

He wanted to go to her room.

To say something—anything.

But what?

“You’ll be okay”?

He didn’t know if he could lie to her like that.

“I’ll protect you”?

He knew she wouldn’t want him to. Not like that.

His fists clenched by his sides.

Jungkook hated this helplessness.

But above all, he hated the thought of losing her—before he could ever tell her what he truly felt.

“Come back alive,” he said under his breath, eyes staring at the moon like it owed him a promise. “Just come back.”

To be continued...