Jeon Jungkook

In the pitch-black darkness under a sky heavy with black clouds, Jeon Jungkook, a man in his thirties, stood with an expressionless face and cold eyes. His icy presence forced even his fiercest enemies to retreat, for he was the mafia boss who knew no mercy. His toned, athletic body was evident beneath his luxurious black suit, and his height, over 190 cm, gave him an imposing presence that couldn’t be ignored.

Behind him stood his armed men, carefully watching their surroundings in an abandoned building on the city's outskirts, as cold winds howled between the decayed walls and shattered windows. His men moved in deadly silence, searching every corner with precision, while he stood in the center, scanning every inch with sharp eyes.

His keen hearing picked up a faint sound, like a whisper in the darkness. He quickly turned toward a pile of old boxes and confidently stepped forward. He pushed the boxes aside, revealing a surprise: a young girl, barely sixteen, hugging her knees and trembling. She wore a simple pink dress and crisp white cotton socks.

Her innocent eyes met his cold ones, not with fear but with a strange innocence foreign to his dark world. He quietly approached her, bent down, and easily lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing.

He gazed at her small face with an expression his men had never seen: a blend of tenderness and amazement. In a deep, soft voice, he whispered.

"Glory be to the One who created you... Don’t be afraid, you’re under Jeon Jungkook’s protection now."

For a moment, his men sensed a rare warmth from their icy leader, as if the little girl had broken the frozen wall he had long built around himself.