Chapter 1
Some local goons were inside an old man’s small shop, misbehaving and pushing him around. Without thinking, YN rushed there and pushed the boys aside.
YN: What kind of behavior is this towards an elderly man? How dare you touch him like that?!
Boy 1: Oh madam, go give this lecture somewhere else. Get lost before you get dragged into this for no reason.
YN: Watch your tongue! Didn’t your parents teach you how to speak?
Old Man: Listen child, let it go. Please leave, I’ll handle them… I’ll talk to them.
YN: No, uncle, don’t worry. I’m here with you. Let me see how they dare to treat you badly in front of me.
Boy 2: Bro, she won’t back off. Let’s deal with her first. Anyway, we’ve been hungry for a long time. Time for a nice dinner. (One guy looked at YN from head to toe with filthy eyes. Just then, YN slapped him hard across the face.)
YN: Next time, try saying that while looking at your mother or sister. And then ask them how they felt.
(The boy, burning with rage, grabbed her hair roughly and pulled her close.)
Boy 2: You really love helping old people, huh? Let’s show you what happens when you mess with us.
(The old man pushed the guy away and pulled YN behind him, folding his hands to beg.)
Old Man: Please leave her. She was only trying to help me. Take whatever you want, I don’t care…but please, leave her alone.
Boy 1: No way. We’ll take her now.
(Saying that, one of them shoved the old man aside and began dragging YN away. YN tried to kick and fight, but there were five of them. Her strength wasn’t enough. The old man cried out loudly—)
Old Man: Don’t do this! You don’t know whose girl she is. If he finds out, he will bury you alive with his own hands. I’m telling you—leave her. For every tear she cries, he’ll make you bleed ten times more!
Boy 2: Oh old man, someone like that hasn’t even been born yet who can mess with us.
(Just then, YN bit the hand of the boy pulling her away. Enraged, he slapped her hard across the face. She fell to the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks, a red handprint burning on her face. The old man shouted again.)
Old Man: He must be coming now… he must’ve already sensed her pain. Once he sees her like this—you won’t even find your own dead bodies. Your families will never recognize what’s left of you.
(One of the boys picked up a stick and moved to hit the old man.
Just then—) YN (screaming): Jungkook!
(Everyone turned and followed her gaze—There stood Jungkook. Eyes red. Breathing heavy. Staring at YN from head to toe. She was crying, shaking. Her cheek red and swollen. The handprint still fresh. Jungkook clenched his fists so tight his veins bulged. The old man turned to him.)
Old Man: Son… she was just trying to help me. I told them to let her go…But they spoke filth about her, and they hit her…
(The last bit of calm inside Jungkook—shattered. He walked silently toward YN, lifted her gently into his arms, carried her to the side, and sat her down carefully. He looked at her cheek, his thumb softly tracing the redness. Then—A guy came up behind him and grabbed his shoulder.)
Boy 2: Who the hell are you, huh?! You trying to mess with us? Do you even know who we are? Hand that girl over and get lost!
(That was it. Jungkook grabbed the guy by his hair and smashed his fist into his face. Again. And again. And again. He didn’t stop. Even after the boy’s face was covered in blood. Even after he passed out. Jungkook. Didn’t. Stop. Everyone watching froze—chills ran down their spines. Finally, Jungkook threw him aside like trash and turned toward the others. The rest of the goons tried to run. But Jungkook wasn’t done. Not when someone had dared to lay a hand on his most precious soul. His life. YN tried to stop him, but it was too late. When someone even looks at her the wrong way, he can’t bear it. But today? They had hurt her. They had made her cry. And now…They were about to learn exactly what that mistake would cost them.)
(A little while later, Jungkook came back—his clothes soaked in blood, his hands trembling with leftover rage. Seeing him like that, YN’s breath caught in her throat. She rushed to him, eyes wide with fear.)
YN (crying): Jungkook... what happened to you? Are you okay?
Jungkook (softly): Hey, hey... don’t cry. This blood isn’t mine. It’s theirs—those who dared to hurt my life.
(YN looked at him, shocked. So did the old man. It didn’t take them long to realize what had happened—Jungkook had dealt with those men. The old man, nervous and trembling, asked slowly.)
Old Man: S-son... what... what did you do to them?
Jungkook (coldly): What they deserved. But let’s not talk about that now. I hope…you won’t deliver this message to anyone else.
(The old man stared at him for a moment. Then nodded with deep understanding.)
Old Man: Son, I know... When it comes to YN, you lose control. I don’t know what exactly you did to them—but whatever it was…they deserved every bit of it. And don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, I didn’t hear anything.
Jungkook (smiling): Thank you, uncle. Now, let me take care of your injuries.
(Jungkook quickly went into the small shop’s washroom and cleaned himself up—he couldn’t walk around the city looking like a mafia king in blood, after all. Then he gently picked up YN in his arms—as if she were made of glass—and helped the old man walk with them. He took them both to a nearby clinic, got their wounds cleaned and bandaged. Then he dropped the old man back at his shop, giving him some cash to help with repairs.)
Jungkook: Uncle, please use this to fix your shop.
