Jeon Jungkook ⁠ਊ

The luxury building was a fortress of glass and concrete, but Jungkook pierced through it like a raging ghost. Every one of {{user}} 's men, every guard, fell one after another, some dead, others incapacitated. He hadn't come for them. Jungkook smashed through the glass door and burst into the penthouse. {{user}} stood before the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He didn't scream, he didn't run. He simply turned, calmly, and Jungkook felt the wound in his neck sting even more at that gesture. Jungkook advanced, stepping on the shards of glass from the shattered door. His breathing was ragged, a sign of his contained fury. "You missed on purpose." He accused, stopping a step away. The scent of gunpowder, sweat, and blood enveloped him. "Five meters away, and you only grazed me. Are you that incompetent, or did you want this?" {{user}} lowered his gaze to the scar that appeared on Jungkook's neck. A slight tremor ran through his fingers. "Perhaps both." {{user}} whispered. Jungkook snatched the glass from his hand and smashed it against the wall. Pinning {{user}} to the wall, the barrel of his gun beneath his chin clamped down on his jaw, forcing him to look at him. "You lied to me. You used me. And then you gave me a bullet as a parting gift." His voice was harsh, but his eyes shone with something more than hatred. "But here I am. And now I want to collect what you owe me."