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The hideout was quieter than usual when they returned. Most of the gang had already turned in for the night, leaving only the soft hum of a broken ceiling fan and the faint crackle of an old radio.
Taehyung didn’t speak as he led Jungkook back to the same small room. His expression was unreadable, but his steps were tense, heavier than usual.
Jungkook followed silently, glancing at him every now and then. He wanted to say something—anything—but the words stuck in his throat.
When they entered the room, Taehyung shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms. His sharp eyes scanned Jungkook, as if checking for injuries.
“You’re not hurt?” he asked finally.
Jungkook shook his head. “I’m fine. You got there before—”
“Don’t,” Taehyung interrupted, his tone firm. “Don’t make me save you again.”
Jungkook frowned, lowering his gaze. “I wasn’t trying to be a burden. I just… I thought maybe I could help.”
Taehyung sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. “You’re not a burden,” he said quietly, almost too soft to hear.
Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly. “What?”
But Taehyung was already walking past him, sitting on the edge of the table. “Forget it.”
A Rare Quiet Moment
For a long moment, neither spoke. The room felt strangely calm, the tension of the fight earlier replaced by something quieter… something neither of them quite understood yet.
Finally, Jungkook sat down across from him. “You fight like… like you’ve done this your whole life.”
Taehyung glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “I have.”
Jungkook hesitated, his curiosity finally spilling over. “Why? You’re… you’re young. You could’ve had a normal life. Why this?”
Taehyung stared at him for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then he gave a short, humorless laugh.
“Normal life?” Taehyung tilted his head. “There’s no such thing where I come from. You learn to fight, or you don’t live long enough to regret it.”
Jungkook’s chest tightened at the bitterness in his voice. “I’m sorry.”
Taehyung glanced at him, his eyes softening just a little. “Don’t apologize for things you didn’t cause.”
For a brief moment, their eyes met, and the air felt heavier, as if neither wanted to look away.
But then Taehyung broke the moment, leaning back casually, as if nothing had happened.
“Tell me,” he said, his tone shifting, “why are you so interested in White Eden? People die just for whispering about it. You’re not exactly built for danger, pretty boy.”
Jungkook tightened his grip on his camera strap. “Someone I know was hurt because of it. I need to understand what it is. Why people are dying for it.”
Taehyung studied him carefully, his gaze sharp. “You’re serious.”
Jungkook nodded.
A faint smirk tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “Fine. You want to know about White Eden? Then stick with me. But you don’t get to run when things get ugly.”
Jungkook swallowed hard but didn’t hesitate. “I won’t run.”
Taehyung chuckled lowly. “We’ll see.”
The Message
Before either could say more, there was a knock on the door.
The red-haired boy from earlier—Jimin—poked his head in, his usual grin replaced by a rare seriousness.
“Hyung, you need to see this,” Jimin said, tossing a folded piece of paper onto the table. “A kid dropped it off. Said it was urgent.”
Taehyung unfolded the paper, scanning it quickly. His expression darkened, his jaw tightening.
Jungkook leaned closer. “What is it?”
Taehyung didn’t answer right away. He crumpled the paper in his hand, standing abruptly.
“Change of plans,” Taehyung said, his voice low and dangerous. “White Eden isn’t just a rumor anymore. Someone’s moving it through the city tonight.”
Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat. “Then we can find out what it really is?”
Taehyung gave him a sharp look. “Yeah. But it won’t be pretty. If you come with me, you’d better be ready for what you’re about to see.”
Jungkook met his gaze firmly. “I’m ready.”
For a long second, Taehyung stared at him, as if trying to decide whether he believed him or not.
Finally, Taehyung smirked faintly. “Fine. Let’s go hunting.”
The city felt different at night.
Jungkook followed closely behind Taehyung as they slipped through narrow alleys, the sound of their footsteps drowned by the hum of distant traffic. Taehyung moved with practiced ease, blending into the shadows like he belonged to them.
Jungkook, on the other hand, tried to keep up without stumbling over the uneven pavement. His camera was tucked securely under his jacket, but his hands itched to pull it out, to capture this hidden world.
“Don’t fall behind,” Taehyung said without looking back.
“I’m fine,” Jungkook whispered, though his heart was pounding.
The Meeting Place
After nearly twenty minutes of weaving through backstreets, Taehyung stopped in front of an abandoned warehouse. Its windows were shattered, and faint voices echoed from inside.
Jungkook peeked through a crack in the rusted door. A group of men had gathered around a table in the center of the warehouse, boxes stacked high around them.
Taehyung crouched low beside him, his sharp eyes scanning the scene.
“That’s them,” Taehyung muttered. “Marquez’s men. And those boxes… that’s White Eden.”
Jungkook’s breath caught. “So it’s… drugs?”
Taehyung’s jaw tightened. “Not just drugs. White Eden isn’t something you just smoke or inject. It… changes people. Makes them violent. Mindless. Perfect weapons for gangs who don’t care if their soldiers burn out in a few months.”
Jungkook stared at him, horrified. “That’s… that’s inhuman.”
Taehyung’s eyes darkened. “Yeah. That’s why it needs to disappear.”
The Infiltration
“Stay here,” Taehyung ordered, slipping a knife from his belt.
“Wait—what are you going to do?” Jungkook whispered.
“Get what we need. Don’t move until I say so.”
Before Jungkook could argue, Taehyung disappeared into the shadows, moving silently along the edge of the warehouse.
Jungkook’s heart pounded as he watched him. Taehyung moved like a predator, slipping behind crates, knocking out two guards with quick, precise strikes.
Then something caught Jungkook’s eye—one of the men at the table was opening a box, revealing small glass vials filled with a shimmering white liquid.
White Eden.
Jungkook’s fingers itched for his camera. He had to document this. If he could get evidence, maybe… maybe he could expose it to the world.
Ignoring Taehyung’s warning, Jungkook slipped inside, keeping low.
He snapped a few quiet photos, his camera shutter barely audible over the voices.
But then—
Click.
The sound of his camera echoed louder than it should have.
A man turned sharply. “Who’s there?!”
The Fight
In an instant, chaos erupted.
“Damn it,” Taehyung cursed under his breath, lunging from the shadows before the men could reach Jungkook.
He moved with terrifying precision, knocking a man unconscious with a single blow, slamming another against a crate.
“Jungkook! Get out!” Taehyung shouted, slashing his knife across a third man’s arm.
But Jungkook froze, his heart racing as the fight unfolded before him. Taehyung was fast, almost too fast to follow, but he was outnumbered—five, six, now seven men closing in on him.
Jungkook wanted to help, but his hands trembled. He wasn’t like Taehyung.
Then one of the men grabbed Jungkook by the collar, yanking him back. “Got the kid!”
Taehyung’s eyes snapped to them, and for a brief moment, something dangerous flickered in his gaze.
“Let him go,” Taehyung said, his voice low, deadly.
The man laughed. “Or what? You’ll—”
He didn’t finish.
Taehyung moved faster than Jungkook had ever seen, his knife flashing as he struck the man’s wrist, forcing him to drop Jungkook.
Then Taehyung slammed him to the ground, his blade pressed against the man’s throat.
The warehouse went silent for a moment.
“Tell Marquez,” Taehyung said coldly, “if he keeps pushing White Eden into my streets, I’ll burn everything he owns.”
The man’s eyes widened in terror, and Taehyung shoved him away.
“Time to go,” Taehyung said sharply, grabbing Jungkook’s wrist and pulling him toward the exit.
Outside the Warehouse
They didn’t stop running until they were several blocks away. Jungkook leaned against a wall, trying to catch his breath, while Taehyung stood a few steps away, his chest rising and falling steadily.
“You’re insane,” Jungkook finally said, still panting. “You fought all of them alone.”
Taehyung glanced at him, wiping blood from his cheek. “You didn’t stay where I told you to.”
Jungkook lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry. I just… I needed proof.”
Taehyung sighed, his anger fading just slightly. “You’re going to get yourself killed, pretty boy.”
“But you saved me,” Jungkook said softly.
Taehyung looked at him, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he smirked faintly. “Yeah. I guess I did.”
Jungkook felt his chest tighten at the way Taehyung said it, like he hadn’t even thought about it—like saving him was the most natural thing in the world.
For a moment, they just stood there, the night air cool against their skin.
Then Taehyung broke the silence. “Come on. We’re not done yet. If we’re going to stop White Eden, we’ll need to hit Marquez where it hurts.”
Jungkook straightened, determination in his eyes. “Then let’s do it.”
Taehyung smirked, a rare spark of amusement in his gaze. “You’re either brave… or stupid.”
“Maybe both,” Jungkook said, smiling slightly.
For the first time that night, Taehyung actually laughed—low, quiet, but real.
“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe both.”
......................
End of Chapter Three
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