𝘖𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘳 | JJK |

17 pt. 2

6 hours before.

The security room was empty, except for one man who snoozed in his chair before the array of monitor screens featuring live camera feed of the hallways of Thistle Clinic. A thud came from the back and he let out a woozy grunt, shaking awake. Seeing no disturbance on the monitors, he went right back into his slumber. Soft rustles sounded from beside him and the man huffed out an annoyed breath.

"Hey, rookie! I told you to be quiet when I'm getting my sleep."

"Sorry, sir. I'm just a janitor."

Sir. Being in this line of work, he'd never been called that term ever before. He had to admit, it kind of felt nice. He dazedly stared at the monitor screens, watching the empty hallways, hands reaching for his cold coffee. He'd expected it to be lukewarm at this point. He'd gotten this cup a few hours ago. However, the cup was still cold, just like he wanted. He could have sworn it was half empty when he last took a sip. Now it was filled to the brim. Not that he was complaining. He grabbed the drink and took a long sip. The drink was different. Some sweet mixture with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle.

Must have been the rookie's cup. Oh well. The rookie would live. When he wanted his coffee, he wanted his coffee.

"How's the night going?" The janitor asked, starting up a conversation with him. He was not in the mood for small talk but the guy had called him 'sir'. He could entertain him for a few seconds. Trying to crack his neck, he simply replied. "You know, same old boring hallways. Nothing much happens. Occasionally the higher-ups tell me to stay on guard. That's when they move those boxes. And here I think finally something would happen but..." he tsked, shaking his head, taking another long drag of the sweet-cold drink. "Those warnings are the most thrilling stuff that occurs around here."

"At least it pays well," the janitor commented and he had to pass a soft chuckle, trying to keep his eyes open. He understood the janitor's envy. They don't get paid a sh*t load of money like he did, even when they worked their asses off every day. He could already feel the sleep coming as the CPU fans' constantly buzzed all around the room.

"Yeah, that's right. I just gotta sit here and watch these hallways. Same sh*t, every day. Easiest job in the world..." he trailed off, his eyes drifting shut.

"What do they keep in those boxes?"

That made him jerk awake, turning his head to glare at the audacious janitor through his glazed eyes. Man, was he feeling awfully dopey today? 

"We don't ask questions around here."

The masked janitor held up his hands in surrender, "Calm down, sir. I was just curious. As you said, it ain't much fun around here."

He nodded, picking up the strange satoori of the janitor's voice. Must be from Busan, he thought to himself. He related to the guy's sentiment. The need to gossip about the boxes wasn't unusual around here. Especially when no one knew why they were that important except for the Head Doctors. It was just pills and stuff. He didn't see what the whole fuss was about. He rubbed his eyes trying to get rid of the sleep in them. Then he squinted back up at the janitor, feeling something odd. "Do janitors usually wear that?"

His eyes focused on the black bomber jacket the janitor wore before they darted up to the face of the masked man who stood beside him, his hood pulled low over his face, only his wolfish eyes visible among the black ensemble. And then the realization suddenly hit. 

His arm quickly reached out for the security alarm but he was too slow.

Jungkook delivered a clean blow to the man's neck, hitting his brachial plexus. It knocked the man out in a single strike. The man slumped in his chair unconscious.