Say ‘I Do’ to a Heist

There was something about the stillness of the prison that didn’t sit right with him. Even though it was supposed to be his day off, Jungkook always felt the tension in the air the moment he walked through those metal doors. The clang of gates closing behind him, the smell of disinfectant mingling with the faint odor of sweat—it all buzzed like static under his skin. But today wasn’t about work. Today, he was here for something far more personal.

His footsteps echoed off the cold concrete floor as he made his way toward the visitation room. He wasn’t dressed in his usual investigator attire today—no badge clipped to his belt, no gun holstered at his side. Just a plain black shirt, jeans, and that ever-present weight on his shoulders.

A weight that never left.

He handed his phone over to the guard at the reception desk without much thought. He wasn’t going to need it here. Not for this.

They led him into the small, dim room where his brother sat, hunched over the metal table. Same steel-gray jumpsuit, same chains around his wrists. Every time Jungkook visited, it felt like stepping back into a nightmare. His brother was innocent, and every minute he spent behind bars gnawed at Jungkook’s conscience like a wound that refused to heal.

“Hyung,” Jungkook greeted, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

His brother, Jungmin, glanced up and offered a weak smile. “Jungkook-ah. How’ve you been?”

“Same as always,” Jungkook said, pulling out the chair and sitting down across from him. “Chasing bad guys. You?”

Jungmin snorted, his humor dark. “Oh, you know. Can’t say much for the décor.”

Jungkook cracked a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He hated seeing his brother like this. Hated that the justice system he believed in had let them down so catastrophically. Jungmin shouldn’t be here. And yet, here he was, a prisoner for a crime he didn’t commit, while the real criminal was out there, walking free.

“It’s not forever, you know,” Jungkook muttered, trying to reassure both of them. “I’ll clear your name. You’ll get out. I swear.”

“I know you will, little brother. But it’s been two years. You can’t let this eat you alive.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek twitching. How could he not? His entire career had been built on the pursuit of justice—on putting the right people behind bars. And yet, his own flesh and blood had been wrongfully convicted. If there was anything in this world that could push him to the brink of obsession, it was this.

“Don’t tell me to let it go,” he growled, quieter this time, his fingers curling into fists. “I’m this close, hyung. One more lead, one more break, and I’ll find the guy who did this.”

Before his brother could reply, there was a sudden knock at the door. A prison staff member poked his head in, looking unusually tense. “Detective Jeon? You’re needed urgently.”

Jungkook frowned, his mind snapping into alert mode. “What? I’m off duty today. What’s going on?”

The staff member exchanged a look with one of the guards and then turned back to Jungkook, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s an emergency. You should check your phone.”

A pit formed in Jungkook’s stomach. He hadn’t even thought about his phone since walking in here, but now the absence of its usual weight in his pocket felt suspiciously wrong. Slowly, he rose from his chair, shooting a quick glance at his brother, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Jungkook strode back to the reception desk, a sense of unease creeping up his spine as the guard handed him his phone. The moment he unlocked it, his screen exploded with missed calls and frantic messages. His boss had called six times, texts flooding in one after another, each more urgent than the last.

Get to the office NOW. Emergency situation at Lotte World Tower.

Jungkook, answer your damn phone!!

Hostage situation at the wedding—armed group stormed the ceremony.

The words blurred together for a second as Jungkook processed what he was seeing. Wedding? Hostages? Lotte World Tower? It felt like he was reading someone else’s nightmare. But it wasn’t a dream. It was happening. And he was needed.

His heart started to pound in his chest, a mixture of adrenaline and disbelief surging through his veins. Jungkook hurriedly dialed his boss’s number, his brain kicking into overdrive as he ran through the worst-case scenarios.

The phone barely rang twice before his boss’s voice crackled through the line, sounding harried, almost panicked.

“Jungkook! Where the hell have you been? We need you at the tower, now.”

“I was—what the hell’s going on? What’s this about a hostage situation?”

“Some group of psychos with masks crashed the wedding. Lotte World Tower’s on lockdown, they’re holding everyone inside—guests, the bride, groom, diplomats. You name it.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. This wasn’t just some petty crime. Diplomats? Lotte World Tower? Whoever was behind this wasn’t playing small.

“Shit,” he muttered, already moving toward the exit. “I’ll be there in ten.”

His boss’s voice dropped into something more serious. “And, Jungkook… whoever these guys are? They’ve got the place locked down tight. No demands yet, but they’re armed, and they mean business. We need you to get inside their heads. Fast.”

Jungkook hung up without another word, heart pounding against his ribcage. There was no time to think—just act. He shot one last glance over his shoulder toward the visitation room where his brother was waiting. This was supposed to be his day off. But life had other plans.

As he bolted out of the prison and toward his car, a single thought echoed in his mind:
He was about to step into the most dangerous game of his career—and there was no way in hell he’d let these bastards get away with it.

*******

Jungkook pulled up to the Lotte World Tower, his car barely coming to a stop as he leaped out. The building loomed above him, its sleek modern facade a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding inside. He could already see the flashing lights from police vehicles, the distant wail of sirens, and the crowd of bystanders gathered beyond the police barricades, phones held high, capturing the panic from a safe distance. They had no idea what was really happening inside.

His mind raced as he moved through the throngs of officers and bystanders. Hostages. Diplomats. A wedding gone to hell. He’d been off the grid for barely an hour, and now he was being thrust into the middle of a potential bloodbath.

Seokjin and his boss, Captain Park, were already waiting for him by the police tent, set up just outside the tower’s grand entrance. Captain Park’s face was lined with tension, his usually stern features now taut with stress. Seokjin, on the other hand, appeared calm as ever, but Jungkook knew better. The tech wizard’s sharp eyes scanned the screens in front of him, his fingers twitching as if eager to get back to work.

“Jeon,” Captain Park barked the moment Jungkook approached, “about time you showed up.”

“I came as fast as I could,” Jungkook shot back, taking in the scene. “What the hell is going on here?”

Captain Park exhaled sharply, running a hand through his graying hair. “What’s going on is that we’ve got a hostage situation inside the tower. An armed group stormed the wedding ceremony, took over the hall, and now we’ve got at least a hundred guests trapped in there—including some high-profile diplomats.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, his adrenaline spiking. “And we have no demands? No contact from the attackers?”

Seokjin shook his head, his voice steady as he stepped in. “None yet. They’ve gone silent since they cut off the live broadcast.”

Jungkook’s gaze snapped to Seokjin. “Live broadcast?”

“Yeah,” Seokjin muttered, flipping open his tablet and pulling up the footage. “It was all being streamed live for the press, and the whole thing was caught on camera up until the moment they took over. Here, watch.”

Jungkook leaned over the screen, the last moments of the wedding replaying in grainy clarity. The bride’s father was just about to give his speech when the commotion began. Jungkook’s jaw clenched as he watched the four masked figures enter the hall, their movements coordinated, deliberate. Hahoetal masks. A perfect blend of tradition and terror. The panic in the crowd was palpable through the screen—the nervous laughter, the rising tension, and then the gunshots.

Jungkook’s fists tightened at his sides as the scene played out. Glass shattered, guests screamed, and the once-elegant ceremony dissolved into chaos. The masked figures stood firm, blocking the exits, herding the crowd like cattle. They were in complete control.

Then came the voice. Cold, commanding, distorted by the modulator.

“Everyone stay in your seats. No one leaves until we say so.”

Another gunshot—this one straight into the ceiling. Jungkook felt the tension tighten in his chest, a knot forming as he watched the camera shake violently before cutting to static. The broadcast was over, but the nightmare inside was just beginning.

“Fuck,” Jungkook muttered under his breath. “And no one’s made contact since this?”

“Nothing,” Seokjin confirmed. “They’ve gone dark. We don’t even know what they want yet.”

Jungkook paced in front of the command center, his mind working overtime to piece it all together. This wasn’t some random act of violence. It was too well-coordinated, too precise. These people had planned every detail. They knew exactly what they were doing.

“How many attackers are we talking?” Jungkook asked, his eyes never leaving the screens.

“We know of at least four from the broadcast footage, but there could be more stationed throughout the tower,” Seokjin replied, flipping through different camera angles. “They’ve shut down all external feeds, though. We’re blind inside.”

Jungkook cursed again under his breath, the situation growing more complicated by the second. He glanced back at Seokjin, who was already sifting through layers of firewalls and security feeds like it was second nature.

“Can you get us a visual? Any way to tap back in?”

Seokjin shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “They’ve locked us out of the tower’s internal systems. Whoever did this knows what they’re doing. This isn’t some amateur hack job.”

Jungkook didn’t miss the way Seokjin’s fingers drummed against the table—a telltale sign of frustration for the normally unflappable cyber expert.

Captain Park cut in, his voice tense. “We’re dealing with a high-stakes situation here, Jeon. The bride’s family, key diplomats, even some high-ranking government officials are inside. The media’s all over it, and the last thing we need is a bloodbath broadcasted to the whole country.”

Jungkook nodded grimly. “What’s our play? Are we going in?”

“We’re considering all options, but storming the place with civilians inside isn’t our first choice,” Captain Park replied, rubbing his temple. “We need to figure out what these guys want—and fast.”

Seokjin’s voice dropped, cutting through the tension. “I’m working on a backdoor into their system. Give me some time, and I might be able to pull up some of their communications.”

Jungkook’s gaze flicked back to the screen, his mind racing. A hundred possibilities ran through his head, but none of them were good. Whoever these people were, they had the upper hand. For now.

*******

Jungkook stood amidst the tension of the police tent, every second pressing heavily against him. The command center buzzed with controlled chaos—officers barking commands into their radios, analysts sifting through data, and Seokjin furiously typing away on his keyboard as he attempted to crack into the tower’s security system. Everything was on edge, and Jungkook could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him. He was a man who thrived in control, but right now, they were in the dark.

Suddenly, a loud beep pierced through the noise. One of the junior officers rushed to the main console. “Sir,” he called out, his voice cracking slightly, “we’ve got an incoming call… from inside the tower.”

The tent fell silent, all eyes snapping toward the screen. Jungkook’s stomach tightened. It had to be them.

Captain Park moved swiftly to the phone, signaling to everyone to stay quiet. His hand hovered over the speaker, and with a steadying breath, he pressed the button.

“Who is this?” Park demanded, his voice sharp.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, the line crackled to life, followed by a metallic, distorted voice that sent a chill through the room.

“Ah… finally, we get to chat,” the voice hummed, smooth yet mechanical, like a cobra sizing up its prey. “Good evening, officers. Or should I say, unfortunate guests? It seems you’ve stumbled upon my little… arrangement.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, his senses honing in on every word. The voice was modulated—disguised. They weren’t dealing with amateurs. He stepped forward, motioning to Park that he would take over.

“This is Lead Investigator Jeon Jungkook. Who am I speaking to?” he asked, keeping his tone firm, controlled.

A small chuckle echoed through the phone, the distortion giving it an eerie quality. “You can call me… Seonsaengnim. I’d prefer to keep things professional, wouldn’t you, Detective Jeon?”

Jungkook stiffened. Seonsaengnim? This guy was toying with them, giving himself a title of respect. A teacher. His patience thinned, but he couldn’t afford to lose his cool.

“Alright, Seonsaengnim,” Jungkook said, keeping his voice steady, though every instinct screamed at him to push harder. “What do you want?”

Seonsaengnim’s voice came back with a soft, almost amused lilt. “Ah, you see, Jungkook, it’s not about what I want… It’s about what you’ll do. But first, a little advice, since I like you already… Don’t storm in. It wouldn’t end well. Not for you, not for your little high-profile friends in the hall.”

A cold silence settled over the room. Jungkook exchanged a glance with Captain Park, who was gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asked, his voice dangerously calm.

“Oh, dear… You didn’t think I’d waltz into a wedding unprepared, did you?” The man continued, his tone shifting into something gleefully sinister. “The lovely flower shop down the street was so helpful, supplying all those delightful bouquets… full of explosives.”

Seokjin’s head snapped up from his laptop, his eyes wide as he met Jungkook’s gaze. Every bouquet? Packed with bombs?

Seonsaengnim let out a light, almost boyish laugh, a sound that seemed completely out of place given the gravity of the situation. “Aren’t they just the perfect decoration for a… festive occasion?”

In the tent, every officer exchanged horrified glances. Jungkook’s blood ran cold, but he kept his face neutral, refusing to let Seonsaengnim hear the panic creeping into his thoughts.

“You’re bluffing,” Jungkook said, testing the waters. “There’s no way you could’ve gotten that much explosive into the building unnoticed.”

“Bluffing?” The man purred, his voice dropping an octave. “Why don’t you ask the florist? Or better yet… why don’t you try your luck? I’m sure your guests will bloom with excitement.”

Captain Park cursed under his breath. This man was a lunatic.

Jungkook pressed forward, his voice growing more authoritative. “If you think for a second you can scare us into submission, you’re wrong. We’re prepared to negotiate, but if you hurt even one of those hostages—”

“Negotiate?”Seonsaengnim interrupted, clearly entertained. “Oh, dear Jungkook, you misunderstand. I don’t want to negotiate… I want to enjoy the show. In fact, I suggest you settle in. Things are about to get interesting. The precious wedding live broadcast… it’s about to come back on.”

Jungkook’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see,” Seonsaengnim said, almost singing the words. “I wouldn’t miss this next part if I were you. It’s going to be explosive.”

And with that, the line went dead.

The air in the tent was thick with tension. Jungkook stood frozen for a moment, processing what had just happened. His mind raced, analyzing every word, every inflection in Seonsaengnim’s voice. This guy was playing with them, weaving some kind of sick, elaborate game. But there was something else—something deeper. This wasn’t just a hostage situation. It was theater.

Captain Park slammed his fist down on the table, his voice a low growl. “He’s fucking crazy.”

Seokjin’s face was pale, his fingers flying over the keyboard again as he muttered, “I’ll try to get the broadcast feed up…”

Jungkook’s heart pounded in his chest, but he refused to let it show. He turned to Captain Park, his voice cold and steady. “We need to be ready. This isn’t a bluff. He’s setting the stage for something.”

Captain Park nodded, already barking orders to the surrounding officers. “Get the bomb squad on standby. We need every expert we’ve got on those flower arrangements. I don’t want any mistakes.”

Jungkook watched the scene unfold, his mind focused but his gut twisting with unease. This was just the beginning, and somehow, he knew that the worst was yet to come.

But one thing was clear: Seonsaengnim wasn’t just any criminal. He was a madman—a brilliant, terrifying madman. And Jungkook had just become his main audience.