Mine All Mine|tk

18| you're real, right?

~Three Years Later~

Jungkook—

I crossed my legs, and leaned on my throne-like chair, that sat in the middle of the room. Leaning, into my seat, I set one elbow on the armrest, and cradled my cheek in my palm.

I tried for an arrogant pose, and waited impatiently for the boss to return from his mission. We're still not on friendly terms but it's not like we hate each other anymore. I'm actually his prized member. The one that got all the bombs in place. The one that carried out the most missions. The one that killed the most people, from enemy gangs.

The grand doors opened, almost silently, and in entered the devil himself. A smirk came to my lips, and I raised a hand in greeting. "Kim Jisung, welcome back, sir."

He groaned, and slipped his heavy leather jacket off, and handed it to some poor kid, that trailed behind him. I was once that kid. Scurrying around, like an assistant. At some point, I'd managed to climb the ranks, and snagged the position that I'm in now.

"That little motherfucker shot me in the arm; fucking bitch," he cursed. I chuckled, "you should probably go look into that wound." He nodded, then frowned at me. "What have I told you about sitting in my chair?" I lifted my legs, and swung them over an armrest, and leaned my back against the other. "To not sit in it; but, sir, it's so niiiice."

A small smirk came to my lips, as he came over towards me, ready to reprimand me for sitting in his chair, like always. I tensed, bracing myself for a slap or a punch in the face. Once his fist was near my nose, my finger clenched the cold metal object, and whipped it out.

Just like that. He fell to the ground, a look of bewilderment etched into every line of his face.

"Looks like I'll be taking your chair from now on."

The kid, squeaked, reminding me of his existence. My lips raised at the corners, and stood up, straight. "Mmm, I'm not going to kill a bystander; so don't look so scared." The boy, visibly, relaxed. I stretched my arms, before crossing the room, and patting the kid's head. I walked out of the room, and down the main hallway.

I stood in the middle of the foyer, gun resting against my shoulder. "If I could have your attention," I called out in English. Everyone stopped what they were doing, and stared back at me. Some raised a few eyebrows. "Your leader is dead," I smirked. "I'll be taking over from here on out."

—

I rushed to the media room. The one room that I was never allowed to enter throughout these three goddamned years. I shoved the guards, positioned there, to block me from coming in. "Back off, pal," I snarled, when one of them reached out, ready to restrain me. "Orders are off. Your boss is dead, and I will be taking his place. Now move." I pushed the doors open, and strode inside.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be in here!" Yelled a blonde haired guy. "Jisung is dead. I'm your leader now," I repeated what I'd told the guards, before running straight up to the newspaper articles that they always keep tabs on. I sifted through the American gangs, until I hit Korea. Quickly, I thumbed through the pages of the clipped articles, until my eyes landed on the most recent news.

Kim Taehyung, the leader of the most dangerous mafia gang, in South Korea, was spotted manhandling a suspicious character in an abandoned ally. The man seemed about one hundred and eighty-two centimeters, and looked like he weighed sixty-eight kilograms. The college-aged witnesses have reported that the mafia leader was screaming in English, and that they could barely understand what he was saying. A few students, that were taking English courses, said that they could make out Kim yelling, "where is he? Where did you put him? Tell me now!" Who might this person be? Where might they be? What relations do they have with Kim Taehyung? Will this affect the safety of our United States? Officials have turned down many questions, but stay tuned for an update, in the near future.