till stream do us part
[Live Broadcast - Wedding Korea TV]
The screen flickers to life once more, revealing the familiar set—though this time, the tension feels suffocating. The two moderators, Kim Hyejin and Park Jinwoo, sit visibly tense, their faces pale under the harsh lights. Both exchange wary glances as the camera zooms in, capturing every bead of sweat, every flicker of fear. A figure in the traditional Korean Hahoetal mask looms behind them, his presence casting a dark shadow over the scene.
The masked man takes a step forward, his gaze lingering on the camera with a chilling calmness. With a playful tilt of his head, he speaks, his voice laced with twisted amusement.
[Masked Man]:
“Well, good evening, everyone. I hope you’re enjoying our little drama. Tonight, we’ve got something special lined up. You’re in for a treat—our newest ‘special guest,’ Yoo Harin. Now, I know you’re all dying to know her secrets… and believe me, we’re more than happy to share.” (He lets out a soft, sinister chuckle). “All you have to do is visit our little website, HiddenTruths.kr, and you can buy every filthy little secret she’s been hiding. Go on, don’t be shy.”
The screen shifts, focusing on a shaking Yoo Harin seated just out of the shadows. Her makeup is smudged from tears, her shoulders trembling, every ounce of her polished persona shattered in front of the nation. Her lips quiver, and she seems too stunned to even respond, the words lost in her shock.
[Kim Hyejin]:
(Stammering as she turns to Harin with an apologetic, fearful glance)
“M-Ms. Yoo Harin, welcome to our special broadcast. I’m… I’m sure you’re… aware of why you’re here.”
Harin’s eyes widen, flicking between the masked man and the moderators as she searches for a way out. Her usually glamorous image is now reduced to one of raw vulnerability, completely exposed.
[Yoo Harin]:
(Barely above a whisper)
“Why… Why are you doing this?”
The masked man clicks his tongue, giving an exaggerated shrug as if the question amuses him.
[Masked Man]:
“Oh, Harin, come now. You of all people should understand—people love a good story. And yours is absolutely riveting. All those luxury cars, designer clothes, the stunning penthouses… It all comes at a price, doesn’t it?” (He leans in close, almost conspiratorial.) “I wonder what your fans would say if they knew how you were funding all that glamour.”
Harin lets out a choked sob, visibly breaking down, her hands shaking as she tries to maintain her composure. Jinwoo, watching her fall apart, grips his papers so tightly his knuckles turn white. He sneaks a glance at Hyejin, who can barely meet his eyes, her own hands trembling as she shuffles the papers.
[Park Jinwoo]:
(Desperately trying to follow the script)
“Ms. Yoo… we… we have a few questions for you.” (He pauses, swallowing hard as he reads from the paper.) “It’s been… said that… your financials are… unusual. Perhaps you could explain…?”
Harin’s face drains of color, her mouth opening and closing as if she’s searching for the right words. But before she can respond, the masked man cuts in, his tone mockingly disappointed.
[Masked Man]:
“Oh, poor Harin. Cat got your tongue? Let me help you out.” (He turns to the camera, gesturing with a dramatic flair.) “You see, dear viewers, Yoo Harin’s lifestyle isn’t just built on her talent and beauty. It’s built on something much… darker. Something our precious Harin here would do anything to keep hidden.”
The camera zooms in on Harin, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stifles a sob. Her perfect facade is crumbling, exposed for the world to see. The masked man chuckles, watching her with almost childlike glee, reveling in her humiliation.
[Masked Man]:
“Oh, and for those wondering if you’re getting your money’s worth… just wait. This is only the beginning. Isn’t that right, Harin? Or maybe you’d like to tell everyone yourself?”
Harin shakes her head, barely able to breathe through her sobs, her entire frame wracked with fear and shame. The masked man tilts his head, feigning disappointment.
[Masked Man]:
“Silent, huh? Fine. I’ll do the honors.” (He glances back at the moderators, who both flinch under his gaze.) “Hyejin, Jinwoo, why don’t you tell our dear viewers what Harin’s been up to in her spare time?”
Hyejin’s hands are trembling as she holds up a paper, her voice barely a whisper as she reads.
[Kim Hyejin]:
“It’s… it’s alleged that Yoo Harin has been…„
Just as Hyejin straightens to continue, the screen flickers—once, twice—and suddenly goes black. The broadcast ends abruptly, as if someone pulled the plug, leaving viewers staring at their screens in shock and confusion.
*******
Cairo
Yoongi stood next to the broadcasting setup, a single wire dangling from the console, his fingers tapping at his keyboard with a kind of casual intensity that only he could manage. The moderators on stage, Hyejin and Jinwoo, shifted uncomfortably in their seats, glancing nervously at the masked figure behind them. Yoo Harin, their glamorous but thoroughly shaken special guest, was a sobbing mess, huddled in her chair and looking around like a caged animal. She was clutching a tissue that had long since stopped doing its job, her makeup a smeared, tragic mess.
Namjoon, leaning against the edge of the set, looked entirely too composed for the chaos at hand. He had his arms crossed, watching the scene with a mixture of amusement and skepticism.
But suddenly, Yoongi’s screen went blank. Just like that, his entire system shut down.
“Ah, shit,” Yoongi muttered, glaring at the now-useless screen as if it personally betrayed him.
“What’s wrong?” Namjoon asked, eyes still on the set, but with a slight arch to his eyebrow as he sensed Yoongi’s tension.
“Someone’s pulled the damn plug on the livestream,” Yoongi snapped, furiously typing as he attempted to trace who—or what—had done it.
Namjoon glanced over at him, his own laptop sitting open on a nearby table. On the screen was the website they’d set up to sell the secrets of Korea’s beloved stars, a single tab showing the live sales numbers. At first, Namjoon frowned as he scrolled through the stats, and then his frown turned into a smirk.
“Relax, Cairo,” he said, chuckling. “People are still going crazy for it. The site’s getting more hits than a politic scandal.”
Yoongi snorted, side-eyeing Namjoon with an exasperated expression. “Yeah? Well, maybe I should start charging double if people are that desperate to ruin their idols.”
Behind them, Harin let out a pitiful sob, loud enough that it cut through Yoongi’s annoyance for a second. She looked a wreck—tears streaked down her cheeks, her hair disheveled, and her mascara smeared like she’d just walked off a horror movie set.
Rolling his eyes, Namjoon clicked on his earpiece and called, “Barcelona, get over here. We need you to do a little crowd control.”
Jimin’s voice crackled through the line with that telltale hint of playful exasperation. “I’m already busy dealing with our drama queen over here, you know.”
“Then you’re perfect for this job,” Namjoon said with a dry chuckle. “Get Harin off the set and somewhere she can pull herself together.”
Jimin strolled in moments later, looking every inch the smooth-talking gambler he was known to be. His gaze slid over Harin, who was still in full sobbing mode, barely coherent. With a dramatic sigh, he crossed his arms and looked at her as if she were an especially high-maintenance poker opponent.
“Well, well, well,” he drawled, a sly grin forming. “What’s the matter, Harin-ssi? Realized you’re not as squeaky clean as you thought?”
Harin’s sobs only grew louder, her eyes widening in horror as she recognized him. If Jimin felt a shred of sympathy, he sure wasn’t showing it. He had this uncanny ability to exude both charm and menace in equal measure.
Jimin sighed, looking back at Namjoon and Yoongi with a mockingly tired expression. “Fine, I’ll babysit her,” he said. “But only because you asked so nicely, Vienna.”
Namjoon just raised an eyebrow. “Maybe show her to the ‘calm-down’ room, yeah? No need for a full performance, Barcelona.”
“Always killing my fun,” Jimin sighed dramatically, his lips quirking up in that mischievous way that made even Yoongi smirk. He leaned over Harin, offering her his arm with a look of mock chivalry. “Come on, Harin-ssi, let’s get you somewhere private. Don’t want to keep your public waiting too long, now, do we?”
Harin blinked up at him, visibly torn between mistrust and desperation. In the end, desperation won. She took his arm, albeit reluctantly, casting one last nervous glance at Namjoon and Yoongi as Jimin led her off the set.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Namjoon shook his head, chuckling to himself. “That guy should’ve gone into theater instead of scams.”
“Could’ve been an actor,” Yoongi muttered in agreement, his fingers back to flying over his keyboard. The lines of code on his screen were still a mystery, his expression turning from mild annoyance to deep focus. “But whoever cut our stream is a damn good hacker. Almost… too good.”
Namjoon tilted his head, his gaze sharp. “How good are we talking?”
Yoongi just grinned, that familiar look of mischief and challenge in his eyes. “Good enough that it’s gonna be fun to hunt them down.”
Yoongi’s fingers moved across the keyboard with an intensity that could have melted plastic. Eyes glued to the screen, he was combing through code, tracing the network back to its source with every ounce of concentration he had. Namjoon watched him, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently. They didn’t have much time; their next livestream was in an hour, and it had to go flawlessly.
Suddenly, Yoongi’s fingers froze. His eyes widened, and then, to Namjoon’s surprise, he let out a loud, almost gleeful laugh.
“Gotcha,” Yoongi muttered, a grin stretching across his face as he leaned back in his chair, clearly savoring the moment.
Namjoon looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Alright, Cairo, you look way too pleased with yourself. Who is it?”
“Oh, you’ll love this.” Yoongi leaned back, crossing his arms. “It’s someone I know. Someone I’ve worked with before in my… earlier days.”
Namjoon’s eyebrow quirked up, intrigued. “Spill. Who’s the poor fool that dared to mess with us?”
Yoongi smirked, glancing back at his screen, his eyes practically dancing with amusement. “It’s none other than Seokjin.”
“Officer Seokjin? As in Detective Jungkook’s guy on the cybersecurity team?” Namjoon blinked, surprised. “The one with the perfect resume and clean record?”
“The very same,” Yoongi snickered. “But oh, don’t let that polished, law-abiding exterior fool you. Back in the day, Seokjin wasn’t exactly the upstanding citizen he pretends to be now. He went by ‘Ghost’, the bane of every private financial institution in Seoul. You know those big heists where millions just disappeared? Yeah, that was Ghost.”
Namjoon’s eyes widened, and he let out a low whistle. “Well, isn’t that something. So, Ghost decided to switch sides, huh? Became a cop, now out here trying to shut us down. Classic redemption arc. Guess he got bored of all the excitement.”
Yoongi grinned, his fingers drumming against his keyboard. “He always said he wanted to ‘do the right thing’—whatever that means. Thought he’d put his skills to good use by joining the police. But he hasn’t changed. Still has that smug, know-it-all style. I’d recognize his handiwork anywhere.”
“Alright, so what’s our move?” Namjoon leaned in, scanning Yoongi’s screen. “We need this stream back up in an hour, no excuses.”
“Oh, I’ll get the stream back up, don’t worry about that,” Yoongi replied, his eyes narrowing as he began typing again, his fingers practically flying. “But first, I’m going to send him a little message he can’t ignore. Let him know who he’s dealing with.”
Namjoon chuckled, clearly entertained. “What, gonna tell him his old buddy Cairo says hi?”
Yoongi shot him a grin. “Something like that.”
In a few quick keystrokes, he brought up a blank message window on his screen and began typing.
Yoongi hit “send” with a satisfied smirk, leaning back to enjoy the thought of Seokjin’s reaction on the other end.
Not a minute later, Jimin waltzed back into the room, looking pleased with himself as he strolled over, giving a dramatic stretch. “Alright, crisis averted. Yoo Harin’s tucked away in a nice quiet room. She’s still a mess, though. Sobbed so hard, I thought she might pass out. I practically had to peel her off me.”
Namjoon snickered, giving Jimin a skeptical look. “Oh, I’m sure you hated every second of it.”
“Oh, you know me,” Jimin replied, feigning a deep, tragic sigh. “Always having to play the comforting shoulder. It’s exhausting, really.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, not missing a beat. “Bet you loved every tear she shed.”
Jimin put a hand to his chest, looking mock-offended. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing, Cairo. I was nothing but a gentleman.”
“Right,” Yoongi drawled, amused. “Next time, try not to enjoy it so much.”
Namjoon interrupted, glancing between them with a smirk. “Alright, you two. Enough with the bickering. We’ve got Seokjin on our trail—yes, that Seokjin. And Cairo here just gave him a little welcome-back note.”
Jimin’s eyebrows shot up, his grin widening. “Wait, Seokjin Seokjin? Officer Seokjin?”
“Yep. Formerly known as Ghost,” Yoongi confirmed. “Man was a legend before he put on that shiny police badge. He’s still good, I’ll give him that. But not good enough to stay under my radar.”
Jimin let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting. Nothing like a little cat-and-mouse game to keep things exciting.”
Yoongi grinned, clearly relishing the challenge. “Oh, believe me. This is gonna be fun.”
*******
Seokjin - Ghost
Seokjin’s fingers danced over the keyboard, each tap drawing him closer to shutting down the livestream. This was more than just a technical victory; it was his chance to cut off the criminals’ platform, and with it, their twisted attempts to showcase Korea’s elite secrets.
The screen finally went black, and Seokjin felt a wave of satisfaction. Jungkook gave a slow, appreciative clap from across the tent. “Nice work, Seokjin. We might finally have a shot at keeping them quiet.”
Seokjin managed a pleased grin, relishing the moment. It was short-lived, though, as Lee Jaesun, the groom’s brother, spoke up, looking worried and pale. “Detective… Why are they even doing this? The livestreams, the hostages, everything…”
Jungkook cast him a sympathetic but professional look. “They’re broadcasting because they want the attention of Korea’s elite. They’re selling information and trying to force the country to watch them air every dirty secret.” He shook his head, glancing back at Seokjin. “But Seokjin just knocked them off their stage, at least for now. No more puppet show.”
Jaesun gave a shaky nod, and Seokjin’s smile widened. He’d done his job well.
But then, a notification blinked onto his screen.
He opened the message, and the words that appeared had him frozen in an instant:
Hey, Ghost. Long time no see. Missed me? You’re not as slick as you think. Back off if you don’t want me digging up those skeletons you’re so eager to keep hidden. See you on the airwaves in an hour.
Below the text, a single word signed the message: Cairo.
Seokjin’s pulse raced. Cairo. A wave of anxiety washed over him. The name was unfamiliar, but the signature on this message felt chillingly real. Only a handful of people knew him by Ghost, his hacker alias from years ago. And one of them was in that building right now, trying to undo his every move.
No way was he going to let anyone in the tent catch on to his past. He could already hear the questions, the suspicion from Captain Park and the rest. If anyone even got a hint that their cybersecurity specialist had once been a high-profile hacker… well, he wouldn’t just lose his job. His reputation, the life he’d built? Gone.
Captain Park’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, stern and questioning. “Seokjin, status update. What are we dealing with?”
Thinking quickly, Seokjin forced a sigh and leaned back, putting on a look of exaggerated frustration. “Well, sir, they’re… they’re smarter than I expected. Looks like they have someone with serious skills.” He tapped a few fake commands onto his keyboard, displaying a series of corrupted error messages. “They’re trying to reroute the livestream through an encrypted server. I’ve blocked it for now, but they might punch through. Whoever this Cairo is, he’s not your average hacker.”
Jungkook’s brow furrowed, and he leaned closer, inspecting the screen with a look of focused determination. “So, it’s back up? Or just… delayed?” he asked quietly, glancing over at Jaesun, who had been listening anxiously to their exchange.
“Only delayed for now,” Seokjin replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “This isn’t going to be easy to keep down. It’s like they knew exactly how we’d try to block them.”
Captain Park’s expression was tight with concern. “Then stay on it, Seokjin. We can’t let these criminals run the show any longer.”
Seokjin nodded, faking a look of determination as he tapped away at his keyboard. He’d have to put the livestream back up, but he had to think of a reason why it would happen in a way that wouldn’t seem suspicious. His fingers hovered over the keys, the pressure mounting with each passing second.
Jungkook’s voice softened, pulling him from his thoughts. “Jaesun, try not to worry too much. We’re doing everything we can.” He gave Jaesun a reassuring smile, a rare glint of empathy in his expression. “I know it’s a lot, but we’re not giving up until we get your family out of there safely.”
Jaesun managed a weak smile, visibly relieved by Jungkook’s words. “Thank you, Detective. It… it helps to hear that.”
Seokjin, though still rattled by the message, couldn’t help but note the shift in Jungkook’s demeanor. This whole situation seemed to be getting to him more than it usually would. Jungkook was known for his relentless pursuit of justice, his cold, precise approach to cases. But now, Seokjin saw a hint of compassion in him.
******
Jungkook
Jungkook’s jaw clenched as he scrolled through the flashy, taunting website displayed on the monitor. The sleek design, the tantalizing titles— “Yoo Harin – “Korea’s Sweetheart… or Sinner?” and “Woo Jungho – “Heartthrob in Hot Water” —felt like salt in the wound. These twisted lunatics weren’t just terrorizing innocent people in a high-stakes heist; they were selling off the guests’ darkest secrets.
Beside him, Seokjin worked frantically to keep the livestream offline, his fingers dancing over the keyboard in a flurry. Jungkook exhaled, forcing himself to focus. Every fiber in his being wanted to dive through the screen and tear it down himself, to end this chaos and finally bring these criminals to justice.
From over his shoulder, he felt a timid presence—Lee Jaesun, the groom’s older brother. Jaesun’s face was drawn tight, his eyes wide with a mix of terror and confusion. He cleared his throat, voice barely above a whisper. “Detective… what… what is all this?”
Jungkook’s gaze softened just a bit as he looked at Jaesun, whose shaky breath and trembling hands betrayed the fear coursing through him. “It’s exactly what it looks like, Jaesun. These maniacs are selling your friends’ secrets like they’re damn festival treats. And judging by the comments, people are eating it up, every bit of it.” His words came out harsher than intended, but he couldn’t help the disgust simmering in his voice.
Jaesun’s face paled even further, his shoulders hunched as he took in the full horror. “But… but why?” he stammered, voice cracking. “These people, they’re my friends…”
The edge in Jungkook’s eyes softened slightly. He remembered the rush of helplessness he’d felt the first time he witnessed something so brutal, so personal. Sure, he was furious, but this was Jaesun’s life on the line. His friends, people he trusted, people he’d grown up with. A pang of guilt twisted in Jungkook’s chest.
“Look, I know it’s hard,” Jungkook said, his tone gentler. “But we’re doing everything we can to bring this down. Seokjin’s keeping it under control for now, blocking their access when he can. Trust me, Jaesun, we won’t let this madness go unchecked.”
Jaesun looked up, desperation mingling with the faintest hint of hope. But as he scanned the screen again, his expression collapsed. “And the comments… Why are people supporting these monsters?”
Jungkook’s jaw clenched again. “People love watching the mighty fall,” he muttered. “Guess they’re willing to overlook kidnapping if it means they get a front-row seat to these scandals.” The words tasted bitter, like something rancid he couldn’t quite spit out. He wanted to punch the screen, to do anything but stare helplessly as strangers dissected these people’s lives like some sick public spectacle.
He glanced at Jaesun, whose expression was blank with horror. He put a hand on Jaesun’s shoulder, feeling a surge of unexpected protectiveness. “Hey,” he said, voice softer. “I know this is hell for you. These aren’t just headlines to gawk at—they’re people you know. I get that. But we’re going to get through this, alright? No matter what it takes.”
Jaesun nodded, swallowing hard as he drew a shaky breath. He offered a faint smile, a feeble attempt to steady himself. “Thank you, Detective. It… it helps to hear that.”
Jungkook felt a swell of fierce resolve. No way in hell was he going to let this gang walk away from this. Not with Jaesun watching everything he’d known, everything he trusted, crumble around him.
They had to stop this. For Jaesun. For the innocent people caught in this twisted game. For everyone they’d vowed to protect.
*******
www.HiddenTruths.kr
Welcome to Hidden Truths
Your gateway to the secrets they don’t want you to know.
- Exclusive Access to the Truth -
Unlock the confidential lives of Korea’s most celebrated elite. Only available here, only for a short time.
Click to reveal secrets, join the discussion, and see the world beyond the facade.
Currently Trending Secrets for Sale
Yoo Harin – “Korea’s Sweetheart… or Sinner?”
Price: 50,000 KRW
- “Pure Image, Dirty Deeds”: A peek behind her pristine facade. How does Ha-rin fund her lifestyle?
- “Luxury at a Price”: Ha-rin’s secret support for illegal networks revealed. Fame wasn’t enough—she craved power, too
- “Hidden Transactions”: See the truth behind her lavish spending. She’s not as innocent as she’d like you to believe.
Woo Jungho – “Heartthrob in Hot Water”
Price: 45,000 KRW
- “Old Flames & Hidden Agendas”: Rumors of scandal with the bride herself. Did Jungho crash this wedding to reveal a past romance?
- “Influence, but at What Cost?”: Find out who Jungho’s been cozying up to for his lead roles.
- “The Price of Perfection”: How far has Jungho gone to preserve his image? You’ll be shocked at his shadowy deals.
Join the Discussion – Anonymous Comments Section
Fallen Idols: “I always thought Harin was an angel! Turns out, she’s just another fraud… This is insane, but I can’t stop looking.”
DramaLover2000: “Imagine paying all that money just to get exposed like this. It’s like a K-drama plot twist come to life!”
AngelHunter: “These people lie to us every day. They use their power and status, but now? Now they’re finally paying for it!”
JustHereForTheDrama: “Are we witnessing the fall of Yoo Harin? This is unreal… clicks to buy.”
MaskedAvenger: “Finally, people who care enough to expose these fakes! Let’s bring down all of them. Time’s up for the elite.”
HateTheGame: “Actors, politicians—they’re all the same, just better actors. Good riddance to all the fakes.”
KDramaDreamer: “Jungho’s my hero, I don’t believe a word of this. He’s being targeted, plain and simple!”
NightWatcher: “These masked men? They’re heroes in disguise. I’d pay them to clean out the rest of these so-called ‘idols.’”
ScandalSeeker: “OMG, who’s next? Yoo Harin and Woo Jungho… If they’ve got dirt on them, imagine what else is coming.”
Haeil: “No, this is wrong! Harin and Jungho worked hard to get where they are. This is just some twisted game to ruin people’s lives.”
JunghoFan4Life: “Leave Jungho alone! His acting brought me so much joy; I don’t care about his private life.”
HiddenHero: “Say what you will, but these masked men are finally doing what no one else dared. Not stealing—just exposing.”