Now Pick a City
Taehyung waited, his posture calm and relaxed, as he sat in the quiet, dimly lit basement of a rundown billiards hall. The air was thick with the smell of old cigarettes, dust, and mystery. His fingers lightly tapped against the edge of the wooden table, a subtle rhythm that matched his thoughts.
He’d handpicked each one of them for their unique skills, and now here they were, about to meet for the first time. Four very different men who didn’t know each other, who didn’t even know his name. And that’s exactly how he liked it.
The door creaked open, and the first figure stepped into the room—Namjoon. Sharp-eyed and serious, he looked around the space before zeroing in on Taehyung. Not one for small talk, Namjoon simply nodded and took a seat without a word.
Then came Yoongi, strolling in as if he had all the time in the world. His hoodie was pulled up, shadowing his face, and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets. He gave Taehyung a glance, then looked around the room with mild disinterest before taking the chair furthest from the others.
Next was Hoseok, all energy and restless excitement. He stepped into the room like he was walking into a party, immediately scanning the faces of the others and flashing a grin. “This the right place? I didn’t get lost, did I?” he asked, his tone playful, but when he saw no one else was laughing, he just shrugged and sat down with a little less bounce.
And then there was Jimin. He entered last, and though his expression was casual, there was a sharpness in his eyes. The kind of guy who always seemed like he knew something no one else did. He glanced at the others, his lips curling into a faint smile as he sat, making himself comfortable.
Taehyung’s eyes flicked over each of them, taking in the mix of personalities in front of him. This was going to be interesting.
“Well, look at this,” Taehyung finally said, breaking the silence with a slow grin. “A room full of strangers. Bet you’re all wondering what the hell you’re doing here.”
Yoongi, always the blunt one, was the first to speak. “It did cross my mind.”
Namjoon shifted in his seat, his gaze steady on Taehyung. “You brought us here for a reason. We just need to know what it is.”
Taehyung leaned back in his chair, pleased. “Straight to the point. I like that. But before we get into all that, let’s start with something simple. We’re not using real names here. You don’t know me, I don’t know you, and that’s how it’s going to stay.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small folded piece of paper. “Everyone’s going to pick a code name. And since we’re pulling off something global, let’s keep it worldly. Each of you is going to choose a city name.”
“Cities?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “That’s random.”
Namjoon sat forward, his sharp mind already turning. “Alright. Fine. I’ll take Vienna.” His voice was measured, already calculating the weight of every decision.
Taehyung nodded approvingly, his smile widening. “Good choice, Vienna.”
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, considering his options. “Cairo,” he said simply. No explanation. Just a name, as if he were picking it out of thin air.
“Cairo. Mysterious,” Taehyung mused, smirking at Yoongi’s minimalistic approach. It suited him.
Jimin, of course, was next. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, a slow, mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Barcelona,” he said, his tone smooth as silk. “It’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“Barcelona.” Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head. “Fitting. You’ve got that flair.”
Hoseok was the last, and he was clearly having too much fun with this. He tapped his fingers on the table, pretending to think hard before flashing his trademark grin. “I’ll take Havana. Tropical, laid back—just like me.”
The group exchanged glances, testing out the feel of their new identities in the silent exchange of looks. Taehyung watched them, pleased with the tension and uncertainty crackling in the air. Perfect. None of them were comfortable yet, and that’s how he wanted it.
He took a deep breath, smirking to himself. This was going to be fun.
“So,” he began, fingers drumming against the old wood of the table, “None of you know each other’s names, and that’s how I want it to stay. We’re professionals here, not some happy family.”
Jimin—no, Barcelona—shifted in his seat, a sly grin playing on his lips. “And here I thought we were about to hold hands and sing kumbaya.”
Taehyung shot him a look that was half-amused, half-annoyed. “Save the charm for the hostages, Barcelona.”
Jimin rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh, but there was a glint in his eyes that said he was having a blast.
On the other end of the table, Hoseok—code name Havana—was grinning like a kid who’d just been told he was getting dessert before dinner. Taehyung could practically see the mischief dancing behind his eyes, though Hoseok was practically bouncing in his seat.
“This is gonna be fun, huh?” Hoseok’s grin widened, excitement clear in his voice. “A bunch of strangers, robbing a tower. What’s not to love?”
Yoongi, now dubbed Cairo, snorted into his ramen cup from the corner, clearly unimpressed with Hoseok’s enthusiasm. “You’re all way too happy about this,” he muttered, stirring the noodles as if this meeting wasn’t worth the energy it took to lift his head. His expression was as deadpan as ever, though Taehyung knew that brain was ticking away like a high-speed train.
Hoseok laughed, not missing a beat. “Hey, if I’m gonna risk my life, might as well do it with a smile, right?”
Taehyung leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the table. “Glad to see the optimism, Havana, but save it for when we actually pull this off.” He let his gaze wander to the others, pausing at Namjoon—code name Vienna—who sat stiffly, arms crossed, eyes sharp. Always the serious one. He could already see Namjoon’s brain mapping out fifty different exit strategies.
Namjoon looked at Taehyung with a raised eyebrow. “So, what exactly is your endgame here, Seonsaengnim?”
Ah, yes. Vienna. Always about the bigger picture. Taehyung loved that. He let a slow smile creep up. “Simple,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “we take from the rich. And we leave them in absolute chaos.”
He tossed a small box onto the table, and as it slid to the middle, everyone’s eyes followed it like hawks. Inside was a traditional Korean Hahoetal mask, its hollow eyes staring up at them.
Jimin was the first to break the silence, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips. “You seriously want us to wear masks? What is this, a kids’ Halloween party?”
Taehyung grinned. “No, Barcelona. It’s art. We’re creating a masterpiece, and we need to remain anonymous. These masks… they’ll be our calling card. Our protection.”
Yoongi—Cairo—poked his chopsticks lazily into his ramen. “Great, so we rob a tower, look like a bunch of historical reenactors, and hope no one notices us. Foolproof plan.”
Taehyung’s eyes sparkled with that mad glint that only appeared when he was one step ahead of everyone else. “Oh, they’ll notice us, Cairo. The whole country will. But they won’t be able to stop us.”
There was a moment of silence as the group absorbed his words, everyone calculating their risks, deciding just how insane this idea really was. But Taehyung knew them well enough already—these weren’t men who played it safe. They were like him: restless, searching for something more, something thrilling.
And just like that, the city crew was born. The beginning of a chaotic, meticulously planned, and utterly brilliant heist that would leave South Korea in absolute awe.
They just didn’t know it yet.
*******
Taehyung stood in front of his crew, the low hum of the rundown building’s lights buzzing in the silence. The crew had already taken their places around the table, each one sizing the others up, but now their attention was locked on him. His gaze flicked from Namjoon—Vienna—the quiet strategist, to Yoongi—Cairo—whose indifference masked a burning curiosity. Havana, Hoseok, was leaning back, legs crossed, waiting to be entertained. And of course, Barcelona, Jimin, with that trademark smirk, like he already knew this was going to be fun.
The stage was set. It was time for the magic.
Taehyung leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, fingers interlaced, his smile lazy but sharp. “Alright, boys. I’m about to tell you the most insane thing you’ve ever heard. Ready for it?”
Yoomgi snorted. “With that look on your face? It’s always insane.”
Jimin chuckled, “Let’s hear it, Seonsaengnim.”
Taehyung’s grin widened. “We’re going to hit the Lotte World Tower Hotel during the biggest wedding of the year.”
Namjoon’s brow furrowed. “A wedding? You brought us all here for a wedding?”
Taehyung held up a finger, wagging it. “Not just any wedding. This one’s going to have more cameras than a presidential election, more money floating around than a bank vault, and best of all”—he leaned back, stretching out his arms like a conductor ready to orchestrate chaos—“we’re going to steal secrets. Not cash, not jewels. Secrets. The kind that can ruin lives. The kind you can’t insure or lock away in a vault.”
The room fell silent for a moment, everyone processing his words. Hoseok—Havana—was the first to break it.
“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up.” He grinned, still amused. “You’re saying we’re going to crash this over-the-top wedding, not for the bling, not for the luxury cars parked outside, but for some dirty laundry? What, we airing the groom’s affair during the reception or something?”
Taehyung laughed, a sound that was as sharp as it was infectious. “Oh, Havana. You’re thinking small.” He flicked his gaze around the room, his voice lowering as he laid out the real deal. “The heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in South Korea is getting married. The groom’s father is involved in everything from tech to real estate, with a few… let’s say questionable connections. The bride? Han Yejin, South Korea’s golden girl, a social media goddess whose followers would jump off a cliff if she posted a selfie doing it. But that’s not all.”
He straightened up, his expression now deadly serious. “Among the guests? A foreign diplomat with enough skeletons in his closet to trigger an international scandal. A Minister of Defense with some under-the-table arms deals. A CEO who’s been laundering money for a crime syndicate through real estate scams. An actress funding narcotics trafficking on the side to keep up her lavish lifestyle. And let’s not forget Chairman Lee—a man so deep in corruption, his tax evasion schemes alone could bankrupt nations.”
Jimin let out a low whistle. “Sounds like a guest list straight out of a conspiracy thriller.”
Namjoon leaned in, his voice sharp with curiosity. “And what are we going to do with these secrets?”
Taehyung’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “We’re going to expose them. Or, well, we’ll sell some of them to the highest bidder first. Either way, their lives will crumble like a house of cards, and we’ll walk away with more power than any cash could buy.”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, his skepticism not entirely masked. “And how, exactly, do we plan to collect these secrets? Are we charming our way through the reception while they pass us their dirty little secrets over champagne?”
Taehyung tilted his head, almost as if considering the idea. “Tempting, but no. We’re hacking into encrypted communications and private data systems. Wedding planners, security systems, personal files—everything. The hotel’s wired to the teeth. But we’re going to slip in, unnoticed, and pull every dirty little secret out of their digital closets. And while everyone’s eyes are on the bride and groom, we’ll be slipping through the cracks.”
Havana leaned forward, hands rubbing together. “And what if something goes wrong? The place is going to be crawling with security. What’s stopping them from locking the whole place down?”
Taehyung’s grin returned, wider than ever. “Ah, see, that’s the beauty of it. There’s a foreign diplomat in attendance, remember? They can’t storm the building with him inside, not without causing an international incident. Diplomatic immunity is our best friend here. They can’t afford to go in guns blazing. And to add a little insurance, we’ll rig some of the hotel with a few… surprises.”
“Surprises?” Namjoom repeated, sounding more intrigued than concerned.
“Explosives,” Taehyung clarified with a wink. “Not enough to blow the place sky-high, but enough to keep them from thinking about storming the building.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Of course. Explosives. Subtle.”
Jimin was grinning now, clearly loving the madness. “This just keeps getting better.”
Namjoon, always the pragmatist, raised his hand like he was asking a teacher a question. “Wait. Why secrets, though? Why not just go for the money? We’d walk out a hell of a lot richer if we drained their accounts instead of airing their dirty laundry.”
Taehyung tilted his head, the madness in his eyes twinkling a little brighter. “Because money fades, Vienna. It burns, it gets lost, it gets stolen. But secrets? They’re forever. And more importantly, they control people. A fat bank account can’t stop a scandal. But a well-timed leak? That can ruin a dynasty.”
Yoongi finally spoke again, his voice thoughtful now. “Okay. Let’s say we pull this off. How do we get out? It’s not like they’re going to let us walk out the front door with a USB full of blackmail.”
Taehyung’s smile became downright predatory. “That’s the best part. While the police and media are focused on the hostages, we’ll be using the chaos as a cover. We’ll slip out through the service tunnels beneath the hotel. There’s an old underground passage that hasn’t been used in years, built when the Tower was first constructed. It leads directly to a private dock where a boat will be waiting for us. From there, we’re ghosts.”
Hoseok burst out laughing. “Oh man, you really thought of everything, didn’t you?”
Taehyung spread his arms wide, basking in the absurdity of it all. “That’s the point, Havana. I don’t think of everything. I plan it. This isn’t just a heist. It’s a performance. A show. And the best part? When the dust settles, no one will even know we were there.”
There was a long pause as everyone absorbed the scale of what Taehyung was proposing. It wasn’t just a heist. It was an elaborate game of chess, where every move had been calculated, every piece put into position. And the stakes? They were higher than any of them had imagined.
Finally, Namjoon leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on Taehyung. “You’re insane, you know that?”
Taehyung chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous kind of joy. “Oh, absolutely. But tell me you’re not excited.”
Jimin let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I’m in. This is going to be a wild ride.”
Hoseok grinned, slapping the table. “Hell yeah. Let’s do this.”
Yoongi simply nodded, his usual cool exterior hiding the excitement in his eyes. “I’m in. Let’s see if you’re as clever as you think you are.”
Namjoon paused for a moment longer, weighing the risk, before finally nodding. “I’m in. But if this goes south, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
Taehyung’s grin was nothing short of wicked. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The crew exchanged glances, their nerves buzzing with a mix of excitement and tension. They were about to embark on the most ambitious—and dangerous—heist of their lives. And leading them was a man with a plan so insane, it just might work.
Taehyung clapped his hands together, the sound sharp and final. “Alright, City Crew. Let’s get to work. We’ve got a wedding to crash.”
*******
It had been days since Taehyung first laid out the skeleton of the heist plan, but now it was time to put some real meat on the bones. The dimly lit basement of a seemingly innocent karaoke bar served as their command center—a place where the city crew of Jimin, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi gathered, faces illuminated by the eerie glow of a hanging neon sign reading “Sing Your Heart Out!” A little ironic, considering they were about to rip the heart out of Seoul’s most elite social circle.
Taehyung stood before them, dressed in his usual calm yet slightly unsettling style—his tailored black suit impeccable, but the grin on his face teetering on the edge of sanity. It was that manic energy that somehow kept his crew on their toes. You never quite knew if he was a genius or just totally deranged. The truth? Probably a bit of both.
“All right,” he began, pacing like a ringmaster before the world’s most dangerous circus. “You all know the drill. We hit the wedding of the century. We’re talking high society, power players, influencers… you name it, they’ll be there. Our goal?” He paused for dramatic effect, watching their faces. “Infiltrate, control, extract the secrets we need, and get the hell out.”
Jimin crossed his arms, tilting his head with a smirk. “And do it while looking damn good, right?”
Taehyung’s grin widened. “Naturally.”
Phase 1: The Entrance
“Now,” he continued, circling the group like a wolf among his pack. “Barcelona, Havana—you two are on crowd control. The masks will do half the work for you.”
He pointed to the sleek, sinister Hahoetal masks lying on the table in front of them. Carved with exaggerated expressions, they represented a piece of Korean tradition, but in this case, they were the face of a nightmare. The old-world charm was about to be rebranded as fear incarnate.
“Your job is to walk in with guns drawn and take the guests hostage. No hesitation. We’re not there to negotiate, we’re there to dominate. Remember that,” Taehyung ordered, his eyes gleaming with a sort of primal joy. “Collect all their phones, electrical devices, anything that can connect to the outside world. We sever their lifeline. Make them feel isolated.”
Hoseok raised an eyebrow. “And what about the camera crew? The wedding’s being broadcast live, right?”
Taehyung tapped his chin, eyes twinkling. “Ah, yes, the live broadcast. We’re going to shut that down at first, but we’ll turn it back on later, when we’re ready. Think of it as our own little grand reveal.”
Jimin grinned. “We’ll make sure they’re too scared to move, Seonsaengnim.”
“Good boy,” Taehyung purred, a bit too satisfied.
Phase 2: Containment and Control
Namjoon, ever the steady hand, leaned forward, his posture tense but thoughtful. “I’ll be inside with them, overseeing everything. If things go wrong, I’ll adapt. You know how I am in tight spots.”
“Exactly why you’re my second-in-command, Vienna,” Taehyung said with a wink. “Keep your eyes on the bigger picture. Don’t let them surprise you.”
Yoongi, sitting in the corner with his usual bored expression, raised a hand lazily. “And the tech?”
Taehyung smiled. “Ah, Cairo. Our resident hacker genius. You’ll be responsible for disabling the cameras, yes. But we don’t just want them blind. We want them to think they’re safe when we turn the feed back on, only for the real fun to begin. You’ll handle that.”
Yoongi’s lips curled slightly. “Already working on a few viruses to crash their systems. It’ll be clean.”
“You always were an artist,” Taehyung chuckled. “But make sure to be precise. We need total control, or we lose everything.”
The Wildcard: Taehyung’s Location
And then came the real shocker.
Namjoon had his doubts from the start, but he was always the practical one, and he voiced what everyone else was thinking. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, rubbing his temples as if trying to piece together the puzzle. “You’re telling us you won’t even be there with us at the Lotte Tower?”
Taehyung’s smile, always a bit too sharp, widened into something almost feral. “Correct. I’ll be close by, but I won’t be on site.”
Jimin let out a disbelieving laugh. “You gotta be kidding me. So, what? We’re supposed to take all the heat while you sip coffee at some luxury penthouse?”
Hoseok was less amused. “Feels like a nice escape plan, Seonsaengnim. You know, just in case everything goes south, you’re not the one stuck in the middle of it.”
Taehyung, clearly reveling in their reactions, merely shrugged. “It’s called strategy, my dears. I’m not abandoning you. I’m overseeing the entire operation from the outside. If I’m on the inside, I’m blind. From outside, I can move the pieces as needed.”
Jimin and Hoseok still looked disgruntled, but Namjoon spoke up, cutting through their protests with the calm authority of someone who’d been in far more dangerous situations. “He’s right. We need someone on the outside. If everything’s chaos in there, we’ll be stuck. Seonsaengnim’s position will give us control over the outside world—media, police, everything. No one’s going to storm the building with the Minister of Defense and a foreign diplomat inside. But we need him to keep them off our backs.”
“Exactly, Vienna,” Taehyung cooed, delighted. “Glad to see someone’s thinking.”
Namjoon, still calm, asked the next logical question. “Then how are we supposed to communicate with you? We can’t exactly call you on a burner phone mid-heist.”
Taehyung’s eyes gleamed with a crazed excitement as if Namjoon had just asked his favorite question in the world. He sauntered over to the old radio sitting on the corner of the table, fingers brushing over the dial. He gave the knob a twist and suddenly, the room was filled with the crackling sound of static before a song from an alternative radio station blared through the speakers—something obscure and offbeat, the kind of music you’d hear in a bar where half the patrons were artists and the other half, well, maybe criminals.
The four crew members stared at him, utterly baffled.
“What the hell…?” Yoongi muttered.
Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious right now?”
Namjoon just pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to figure out where this was going.
Taehyung, however, didn’t seem phased. In fact, the maniacal smile that spread across his face only grew wider as the music continued blaring through the warehouse, echoing off the metal walls. He stood in the center, tapping his foot to the rhythm, seemingly oblivious to the confused stares from his crew.
As the song hit a particularly energetic beat, Taehyung’s eyes darted from one confused face to the next, clearly reveling in their disbelief. Finally, after a long, tense moment of awkward silence, he raised a finger in the air, as if about to make some grand announcement… but said nothing.
The radio continued blasting, drowning out the silence between them, leaving the crew utterly, hopelessly confused.
And Seonsaengnim? Well, he just kept grinning like the madman they all feared he might actually be.