Bandit Jeon

— Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

Jungkook sat on the hood of the old BMW, keeping one leg on the ground and the other bent at the knee.

The man tilted his head back, looking up at the black sky, veiled in the dirty haze of city light. His profile in the dim light seemed carved from granite—a sharp cheekbone, a slightly rounded nose, tightly pressed lips. He listened as his two henchmen reported quickly, in hushed tones. He himself said nothing.

His gaze, empty and sliding, moved along the wall, over the trash cans... and for a moment caught on a shadow in the doorway - on Taehyung, who all this time had been watching, fascinated, the one who came to his bar every night, but never noticed the young man.

Kim's heart sank, then pounded so hard it made his ears pop. But Jungkook's gaze didn't linger, as always. He didn't recognize him, didn't show any interest—and turned away, as if erasing him from reality.

One of the guys, younger, laughed cheekily, nodding towards Taehyung:

• Boss, the kid's back again. He's looking like a fan.

Chon didn't even turn around. He merely turned his head slightly, and the flashlight briefly illuminated his half-smile—mirthless, crooked, almost contemptuous.

"Don't waste your time on him. Ghosts are not touched."