Tuxedo scavenger hunt
Jungkook
Jungkook’s hand tightened around the phone, his jaw clenched as Seonsaengnim’s voice rang in his head, mocking, smug. “One hour,” the man had said, in that maniac, unsettling tone that felt more like a challenge than a demand. An hour to find the groom’s missing brother, Lee Jae-sun, or else the next livestream would be “interesting.”
“What the hell does that psycho think he’s playing at?” Jungkook muttered, slamming the receiver down, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere of the room. It was his anger, sure—but behind it, simmering like a fever, was a touch of fear. Whatever Seonsaengnim meant by “interesting,” Jungkook didn’t want to find out. The last livestream had already been a puppet show, drawing an audience of horrified viewers across Seoul. The eyes of the city were watching his every move.
Captain Park’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts. “I don’t like it either, Jungkook, but we have to move. This isn’t just some empty threat.” Park’s calm exterior belied the frustration under the surface, a quiet fury Jungkook had seen only a few times before. He continued, eyes locked on Jungkook’s. “We’re playing his game, at least for now. So let’s do it smart.”
Jungkook inhaled sharply, forcing his mind to focus, to swallow the boiling frustration. Seonsaengnim had them wrapped around his finger for now, but Jungkook couldn’t afford the luxury of rage. This was war—and every second mattered.
“Seokjin!” he called, pulling his colleague aside. Seokjin was already seated in front of his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as he tapped into every database, network, and loophole he could think of.
Jungkook stood beside him, impatience gnawing at him. “What do we have on this Lee Jae-sun? No one just disappears from a wedding like that, especially not with the whole family’s empire at stake.”
“Not much,” Seokjin replied, barely looking up. “He is the groom’s older brother. They’re half-brothers—same father, different mothers.” He paused, his fingers scrolling through a page, eyes narrowing as he read. “And it looks like Jae-sun’s never been involved in the family’s businesses. He’s practically a ghost.”
Jungkook frowned. “A ghost? In a family like this?” The Lee family wasn’t just influential; they were practically a dynasty, their empire stretching across real estate, tech, and energy. Their name was a fixture in Seoul’s upper echelons. For someone in the family to fly under the radar like that… it didn’t add up.
Seokjin nodded, his eyes still glued to the screen. “No recent photos of him, either. Last ones I found were from years back, when he was studying art history in Europe. Since then, it’s like he vanished from any public records. All we know is he just got back from Japan last night, and he’s been staying at an address in Gangnam.”
“Art history?” Jungkook scoffed, a flicker of disbelief breaking through his frustration. “The whole family’s neck-deep in business, and he’s off studying art?”
“Apparently.” Seokjin’s tone was as dry as it was focused. “Must be the black sheep or something. No involvement in the family empire at all. But he is staying in one of those luxury towers in Gangnam. Best view in Seoul, privacy, top-tier security. Only the rich and ridiculous can afford a place like that. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been off the grid simply because he can afford to.”
Jungkook couldn’t hide the sneer on his face. It wasn’t that he hated wealth, but when rich heirs played games like this, disappearing without a trace right when the entire city was balancing on a knife’s edge… That’s what drove him mad.
Captain Park interrupted his thoughts. “Jungkook, don’t get sentimental about this. Whether he’s hiding, avoiding, or just being a privileged brat, find him. Now.” His tone was curt, commanding, but Jungkook could sense the underlying tension. Their hour was ticking down, and Seonsaengnim was waiting.
“Alright, Seokjin,” Jungkook said, nodding. “Send me his addres We’re pulling him in, whether he wants to cooperate or not.”
Seokjin smirked slightly, typing out the address and forwarding it to Jungkook. “Got it. We’ll bring the rich kid out of his tower. But let’s hope he’s even there.”
Jungkook’s brow furrowed as he reached for his coat. “I’ll go myself. We don’t have time to mess around. If Jae-sun doesn’t show up in that hour… Seonsaengnim won’t hesitate to escalate.” The very thought of what Seonsaengnim might broadcast, what he might do with the hostages, clawed at Jungkook’s nerves. He was done playing along with this madman’s sick game, but until they found a way to break the stalemate, Jungkook knew he’d have to toe the line.
Captain Park caught his eye one more time, his gaze firm. “You make contact with Jae-sun and bring him back here safe.”
Jungkook gave a short nod, acknowledging both the command and the weight behind it. As he turned, Seokjin’s voice called out after him, low and calm. “Hey, Jungkook. Good luck. Don’t get yourself killed out there.”
Jungkook snorted, masking his tension with a smirk. “Not a chance. I’ve got a psycho mastermind to bring down.” And with that, he pushed his way out, ready to track down the missing Lee Jae-sun and hopefully to finally turn the tables on Seonsaengnim.
*******
Jungkook pulled up to the luxurious apartment complex in Gangnam, taking in the tall, gleaming tower with a mixture of resentment and irritation. Every inch of it oozed wealth, from the sleek glass-and-steel facade to the immaculately manicured entrance gardens. Just like Seokjin had said—an unnecessary display of privilege, reserved for those who never had to think about the cost of anything. Jungkook snorted, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter as he parked and strode toward the building’s entrance.
The lobby was as extravagant as expected: marble floors that shone like mirrors, high ceilings lined with chandeliers, and a series of art pieces lining the walls that screamed “old money.” Jungkook’s eyes flickered over each detail with a touch of annoyance before he made his way to the front desk, where a receptionist in a perfectly tailored suit greeted him with a professional but indifferent smile.
“Can I help you, sir?” the receptionist asked, barely glancing up until Jungkook flashed his badge.
“Detective Jeon Jungkook, Seoul Metro Police,” he said, watching the receptionist’s expression shift from indifference to a mixture of curiosity and slight anxiety. “I need to speak to one of your residents—Lee Jae-sun.”
The receptionist blinked, adjusting his collar. “Of course, Detective. Let me check Mr. Lee’s floor and apartment number.” He turned to his computer, typing briskly, the light of the monitor reflecting off his glasses.
Seconds later, he glanced up. “Mr. Lee resides on the thirty-second floor, in apartment 3203.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “But as part of building policy, I’ll need to inform him of your arrival first. Just one moment.”
Jungkook clenched his jaw but didn’t protest, watching as the receptionist picked up the phone and dialed a number, his voice dropping to a quieter tone.
“Mr. Lee, this is the front desk. I’m just calling to let you know… there’s a police detective here who would like to speak with you.” He paused, listening intently. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He hung up and looked back at Jungkook. “Mr. Lee is expecting you. Take the elevator straight up, and his apartment will be the first door on your left.”
With a curt nod, Jungkook turned on his heel and headed for the elevator, exhaling as he waited for the doors to open. Even in the confined space of the elevator, there was no escaping the opulence of the place—polished chrome walls, ambient music, and a faint scent of some designer fragrance lingering in the air. He huffed, pressing the button for the thirty-second floor, already mentally preparing himself for whatever privileged nonsense he’d be walking into.
The doors slid open with a soft chime, and Jungkook stepped out into a quiet hallway, the plush carpeting absorbing the sound of his footsteps as he approached apartment 3203. He paused briefly, bracing himself, then rapped on the door.
After a short pause, the door opened to reveal a young man standing in the doorway, his posture tense, face pale as he took in Jungkook’s appearance.
Jae-sun was undeniably handsome in that subtle, almost effortless way. Messy, dark hair that fell slightly into his eyes, which were sharp yet had a softness about them, like someone who’d spent hours in thought rather than action. His clothes were simple yet expensive-looking, but Jungkook’s gaze quickly traveled to the cast around his arm and the faint bruising along his cheekbone—a fresh injury that marred his otherwise flawless face.
“Detective…?” Jae-sun’s voice was quiet, slightly shaky, and his wide eyes darted over Jungkook’s face as though trying to read the situation. “Is… is my brother alright? Is my family okay?”
Jungkook felt a pang of sympathy, which he quickly masked. He kept his voice steady, controlled. “They’re all alive, Mr. Lee. Your brother is part of the hostage situation at Lotte Tower, along with the rest of the wedding party.”
The mention of the hostages sent a visible shudder through Jae-sun, his hand flying to his mouth as he swallowed hard. “I… I’ve seen it on the news,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was discharged from the hospital and came home to find… all of this… it’s a nightmare.”
Jungkook observed him carefully, noting the genuine distress in his expression, the slight tremor in his hand as he ran it through his hair. If he’s faking this, he’s doing one hell of a job, Jungkook thought, but his gut told him otherwise. “Mr. Lee, why weren’t you at the wedding? It was your brother’s big day, after all.”
Jae-sun looked down at the cast on his arm, grimacing. “I… I was in Japan. Just got back last night. The plan was to make it in time to help with the final preparations, but…” He took a shaky breath. “I got hit by a car this morning on my way out. Spent half the day in the ER, unconscious, and they only discharged me a few hours ago. My phone died on the flight over, so no one could reach me…” His voice broke slightly as he added, “And then I found out about… everything.”
Jungkook took a moment to let that sink in. It was a plausible enough story, but there was something almost too tragic about the timing. He forced himself to focus, pushing aside any personal biases. “The police need your help to resolve this, Mr. Lee. We think your presence could help bring this situation to an end.”
Jae-sun’s face went pale, but he nodded, the determination mingling with fear in his eyes. “Of course. If I can help my brother, I’ll do anything.” He swallowed, squaring his shoulders. “Just… tell me what I need to do.”
Jae-sun took a deep breath, his eyes darting briefly around his apartment as if committing every detail to memory before stepping out. Jungkook couldn’t ignore the strange feeling lingering in the air as he followed him, a nagging suspicion that this situation was far from straightforward.
As they made their way to the elevator, Jungkook tried to refocus, pushing back the complexities of Jae-sun’s life and family, the haunting vulnerability in his eyes. The mission was clear—get Jae-sun to the police tent, fulfill Seonsaengnim’s demand, and hope that it was enough to bring the wedding guests out alive.
But even as they descended toward the chaos awaiting them, Jungkook couldn’t shake the feeling that Lee Jae-sun, with all his secrets and scars, was more than just a pawn in Seonsaengnim’s twisted game.
*******
The police tent buzzed with nervous energy as Jungkook and Jae-sun arrived, just a stone’s throw from the towering silhouette of the Lotte World Tower. The iconic building loomed ominously, casting long shadows across the plaza, flanked on all sides by swarms of reporters, cameramen, and flashing lights. It was a media circus, a frenzied spectacle as everyone anticipated the next turn in the harrowing hostage drama unfolding inside. Jae-sun’s face grew even paler at the sight, his eyes fixed on the tower as though he could somehow reach his family through sheer will alone. Jungkook noticed the slight tremble in Jae-sun’s fingers, the clench of his jaw—a man steeling himself for a nightmare.
Jungkook felt a pang of sympathy; he knew the visceral need to protect family, to fight against impossible odds if it meant saving them. But he forced himself to push away his own feelings. This wasn’t the time to think about his brother or his own mess. Right now, the only way to help was to stay sharp, level-headed. They stepped into the tent, where Captain Park and Seokjin stood waiting, flanked by other officers scanning screens and flipping through reports.
Captain Park glanced up, his gaze sharp and assessing as he took in Jae-sun’s condition. “Lee Jae-sun,” he began in a firm but steady voice, acknowledging him with a slight nod. “Thank you for coming. We know this is difficult.”
Jae-sun’s eyes flicked around the room, landing briefly on each person before settling back on the captain. “Difficult?” he repeated, a tremor of desperation creeping into his voice. “My family is in there—my brother, my parents, all trapped with God-knows-who, and you call it difficult?” He took a shaky breath, visibly trying to regain control. “Sorry. I’ll do whatever you need if it gets them out of there.”
“We’re counting on that,” Seokjin said, his voice softer but no less grave. “We don’t know what the hostage-takers want yet. They’ve only made one demand so far—your presence. The man in charge calls himself Seonsaengnim. He appears to be orchestrating the entire operation and only agreed to speak once he knew you were with us.”
Jae-sun’s face contorted in confusion and fear. “Seonsaengnim? Why… why would he want me? I’ve never met this man in my life.”
Jungkook crossed his arms, observing the unease flit across Jae-sun’s face. “We don’t know why he asked for you, but this was his demand. Hopefully, he’ll make it clear soon.”
Seokjin glanced at his watch, his expression tense. “We expect the call in about fifteen minutes. It would be best if you took a seat.” One of the officers handed Jae-sun a bottle of water, and he took it with a small nod, though his grip seemed loose, as if he didn’t quite have control over his hands. He sat, breathing deeply as he opened the bottle, and took a few sips to steady himself.
As Jungkook watched, he noticed Jae-sun pulling out his phone, his fingers moving quickly across the screen. From his angle, Jungkook couldn’t see what he was typing, but he felt a pang of suspicion flare up. He hoped Jae-sun wasn’t scrolling through the comments from the last broadcast. The news had been relentless about the hostages, the whispers of scandal around actor Woo Jungho’s exposed secrets. It was clear this Seonsaengnim had an agenda—one that went beyond a simple ransom or a personal grudge. Jungkook’s gaze drifted to Jae-sun’s expression, taking in the tense set of his jaw, the way his fingers trembled against his phone screen. The man was on edge, understandable given the stakes, but something about his quiet focus intrigued Jungkook.
The room’s tension thickened as the minutes slipped by. Finally, just as Seokjin checked his watch one last time, the phone rang, its shrill tone slicing through the silence. Captain Park nodded at the officer manning the line, who quickly routed the call through the tent’s speaker system. Everyone leaned in, tense, waiting.
“Hello?” Seokjin’s voice was cautious, almost wary as he addressed the caller. “This is the Seoul Metropolitan Police. We have Mr. Lee Jae-sun here with us, as requested.”
There was a pause, and then a voice crackled through the speaker—smooth, unhurried, with a hint of almost playful sarcasm. “Oh, fantastic,” the man’s voice drawled, dripping with mock enthusiasm. “So, the older brother has finally decided to grace us with his presence. I was beginning to think you’d chickened out. Took you long enough, Jae-sun.”
Jae-sun visibly stiffened, his face paling further as the voice addressed him. He cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are… are my family and my brother safe?”
Seonsaengnim made a sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh, like he was amused by the question. “Safe?” he echoed, almost bored. “Oh, they’re fine. Or as fine as one can be in a room full of my associates with guns. Let’s just say they’re alive, breathing, maybe even having a little fun.” He chuckled, a childlike, almost gleeful sound that sent a chill through the room. “Why, did you expect me to say otherwise?”
Jae-sun’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and anger. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice trembling but laced with defiance. “What do you want from me? If it’s money—”
Seonsaengnim cut him off with a laugh, sharp and dismissive. “Money?” he repeated, scoffing. “Oh, how very typical of you, Jae-sun. You think this is about money? You think I’m here for a bribe?” His tone dripped with disdain. “No, no, no. I’m here for something much more valuable than your precious bank account.”
Jae-sun clenched his jaw, clearly struggling to keep his composure. “Then what? If not money, what do you want?”
“A good show, for one thing,” Seonsaengnim replied airily, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “And the secrets, Jae-sun—the filthy, ugly little secrets your elite friends are so desperate to keep hidden.” His tone turned gleeful, his words almost childish in their excitement. “Oh, you have no idea how much fun I’m having, prying open your world and letting all the dirty laundry air out.”
Jungook felt a surge of anger, fists clenching as he listened to the man taunt Jae-sun. This wasn’t just about hostages—it was about humiliation, about tearing down the wealthy and powerful for the thrill of it.
Seonsaengnim continued, his voice dark with amusement. “You know, I was just thinking—it’s such a shame you couldn’t be here for the big event, Jae-sun. A family affair, and you missed it.” He tutted, feigning disappointment. “Not very respectful, wouldn’t you agree?”
Jae-sun’s expression twisted in anger. “I was in a car accident. I was unconscious in a hospital. I only just found out—”
“An accident, you say?” Seonsaengnim interrupted, a mocking lilt in his tone. “Well, that is unfortunate, isn’t it?” He sighed dramatically. “You’re missing all the fun. But I suppose we’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got.”
Jae-sun’s frustration grew visible, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he gathered the courage to ask the question that hung in the air. “What do you want from me?” he repeated, desperation sharpening his voice. “If you’re not after money, then what is this? What’s the point?”
There was a pause, and when Seonsaengnim spoke again, his voice was colder, more serious. “The point, Jae-sun, is that your precious world of luxury and power is about to come crashing down. I don’t want your money—I want the truth. And you’re going to help me get it.”
Jungook’s stomach twisted as Seonsaengnim’s words rang through the tent, a chill settling over everyone. This was no ordinary hostage-taker; this was a man driven by some twisted sense of purpose, a man who saw himself as a judge, jury, and executioner for those he saw as corrupt.
“Oh, and one more thing before I go,” Seonsaengnim added, his tone lightening, almost playful again. “You might want to keep an eye on the live broadcast. It’s about to get… interesting.” He chuckled, a disturbingly childlike sound, as though he were sharing a private joke. “I wonder, have you all started placing bets yet? Which of the wedding guests will be the next… special guest?”
The line went dead, and the tent fell into a stunned silence, Seonsaengnim’s parting words echoing in the air like a dark omen.