When Jimin pickpockets Seoul's biggest gang leader, he ends up stealing a lot more than his wallet.
"Any last words before I blow your fucking brains out princess?"
The gang leader watched amused as Jimin looked down the barrel of the gun unimpress...
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⏳JIMIN'S POV⌛️
I think there's a common misconception about what I do and what I am capable of. No, I have not killed anyone while doing my job—I refuse to, and no I'm not in some ratty little gang with a lame title. I'm more than that.
The misconception lies within the fact that just because I choose not to kill, doesn't mean that I can't.
I may not be monster, but I know about different poisons and drugs. I know just how much is too much, and just how little is not enough. I can locate veins better than most physicians, dosing fully grown men and women to their limits to the point where a single push can make their bodies drop to the ground. I may not be Suga, but I know damn well how to make my own tools with limited resources. Making them explode is the easy part.
I may not be V, but I still know exactly where within the human body to hit for pressure points. Requiring only one hit, hard enough to leave a person feeling disabled for an entire hour and leaving no traces of physical contact behind. No dumb tiger stamp needed.
I may not be J-Hope, but growing up on the streets I found out rather quickly how to make others hurt. How to make them bleed. When I was twelve years old the drug addict in the back alley taught me how to use a butterfly knife for the first time. And then at fourteen a gun. I could skin someone alive if I wanted to, let alone carve my name into someone.
It could all just be my ego talking, convincing me that I'm well suited enough to take these criminals on. And maybe that's what I needed right now, it was too late to back out of the job anyway. But dammit, I don't see how this stupid gang is any more lethal than I am.
Just because I don't kill, doesn't mean I don't know how to. And just because I'm not in a gang, doesn't mean I can't outsmart them. I can do this. And I was definitely going to- but first...
"God damn it!" My annoyance rang throughout my apartment as I tapped angrily against the keyboard of my laptop. I had been trying for over an hour to figure out how on earth an iPhone—which had not been connected to any WiFi signal, nor manually plugged into a tapped charging port, was corrupted from an external source. Maybe I had misjudged Kim Seokjin's role, after all, being a hacker really was so underrated.
This shit was complicated.
My eyes scanned over a bunch of technical words that I couldn't even begin to understand, and in minutes I was back to the start of my cycle: Frustration.
To be honest, if this had been some random mob boss's phone, I wouldn't have been nearly as irked to see that it had been corrupted. Nearly everything dealing with mafias and shit had some sort of default delete feature or coding written into their devices just in case something like this was to happen. However, being that this phone belonged to some random man off the street, whom of which slept on my apartment lobby's couch last night, left me with some slightly concerning questions.
