Cannon Fodder's Time Has Come 5

The alley stretched between towering skyscrapers, its dim expanse cloaked in shadows. Light was a stranger here, as if the sun itself feared to touch this forsaken place. Overfilled trash cans lined the walls, their pungent stench drawing stray dogs and cats. Suddenly, a heavy thud echoed through the narrow space, and a shadow crashed into one of the bins. It toppled over with a loud clatter, sending a wild cat screeching into the darkness.

Kim Taehyung’s sharp gaze flickered, catching sight of the figure sprawled on the ground, twitching in pain. For a moment, his composed expression faltered, his hand instinctively moving to the door handle to intervene.

But Jungkook’s hand shot out, gripping Taehyung’s shoulder with surprising strength, holding him in place.

Jeon Jungkook

(calmly) He can’t die.

His tone was leisurely, almost amused, but the force behind his grip sent a clear message. Kim Taehyung hesitated, his frustration evident in the tightening of his jaw. Still, he eased back into his seat, his hand retreating from the door handle. The smile he forced onto his face did little to mask the storm in his eyes.

Jungkook turned his attention back to the alley, watching as Minho, the shadow, tried to push himself up. Before he could get far, a tall man stepped on his back, forcing him down. A group of young men with brightly dyed hair approached, their laughter echoing cruelly in the confined space as they rummaged through his pockets, stripping him of every valuable item. Minho’s struggles were met with swift, ruthless kicks, leaving him sprawled and motionless as the gang strolled away, laughing as though it were nothing more than a casual pastime.

This kind of scene was all too common in the bustling city. Passers-by rarely spared a glance, their apathy as impenetrable as the shadows. From the car, Jungkook’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile.

Yes, these men were his doing. They were hired specifically to teach Jeon Minho a lesson, to remind him of his place in the pecking order. Even though Jungkook had inherited the memories of the original version of himself, he saw no reason to abandon this plan. In fact, he had come here to enjoy the show personally and had brought Taehyung along— Minho’s supposed protector—to witness the humiliation firsthand.

Kim Taehyung

[Taehyung adjusted his glasses, the gold rims catching the faintest glimmer of light in the dark. Beneath the facade of indifference, his fingers tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening as he fought the impulse to intervene. The eldest son was either very bold or very foolish to orchestrate such a scene.]

Minho finally managed to stagger upright, clutching his bag tightly as he spit into the nearest trash can. His face was pale, bruised, and twisted with anger. As he stumbled out of the alley, his gaze locked onto Jeon Jungkook, seated in the car with that maddeningly elegant smile. The sight made his rage boil over, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Jeon Minho

(through clenched teeth) It’s you!

Jeon Jungkook

(nonchalantly) Yes, yes.

Minho’s fragile composure snapped. Abandoning any pretense of calm, he lunged forward, fist raised in a desperate attempt to land a punch. But just as he reached the car, the door swung open with brutal precision, slamming into him and sending him sprawling back onto the filthy alley floor.

Jeon Jungkook stepped out of the car with unhurried grace, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. He approached Jeon Minho, his every movement radiating a sense of control. Bending slightly, he gazed down at the boy on the ground, his lips curling into a teasing smirk as his eyes roved over Minho like one might appraise an amusing spectacle.

Taehyung followed closely behind, his presence imposing as he kept a watchful eye on Jungkook. His tense posture hinted at his readiness to intervene, though his expression remained unreadable.

Jeon Jungkook

(mocking) What’s the matter, Minho? Still trying to climb higher than you belong?

Minho gritted his teeth, glaring up at Jungkook with raw hatred. The humiliation, the rage—all of it boiled in his chest as he struggled to stand once more. But Jungkook simply straightened, stepping back with a casual air, as if daring Minho to try again.

Taehyung’s sharp gaze flickered between the two boys, his frustration barely concealed. Jungkook’s calculated cruelty was evident, but Taehyung knew better than to interfere openly. For now, he remained a silent sentinel, observing the drama unfold.

The alley seemed to hold its breath, the tension crackling in the air as the two boys stared each other down, the balance of power tilted sharply in Jungkook’s favor.