The rain had just stopped when Jungkook’s convoy pulled up to the rusted gates of the asylum. Water still dripped from the iron bars, pooling in the cracks of the pavement. The place looked less like a hospital and more like a forgotten prison, its concrete walls weathered by decades of storms.

Most people with money, power, and status would never set foot here. But Jungkook wasn’t most people.

He was the kind of man who thrived on control—over his businesses, his reputation, and even the people who whispered his name in fear. At twenty-eight, he was one of the youngest moguls in Korea, his fortune spread across entertainment, real estate, and technology. But money and influence had stopped thrilling him a long time ago. His penthouses, his cars, his endless meetings with board members… all of it felt stale.

He wanted something no one else would dare to want.

When the head of the facility greeted him at the door, bowing and stammering about how unwise this was, Jungkook only smirked. "Unwise decisions make life interesting," he replied, his voice as smooth as silk and just as dangerous.

The man tried again, nervously shuffling papers. "Mr. Jeon, the patients in the red zone are not… adoptable. They are unstable, dangerous—"

Jungkook cut him off with a glance sharp enough to slice through steel. "Then show me your most dangerous. The one you fear the most. He’s the one I want."

The journey through the asylum was unsettling. Each locked door clanged shut behind them, echoing like a warning. The fluorescent lights above flickered, buzzing faintly, and the smell of antiseptic clung to the air. His bodyguards trailed at his back, their silence more intimidating than the rifles hidden under their jackets.

Finally, the director stopped at a reinforced door. A red warning light glowed above it.

Inside sat Niko.

He looked younger than Jungkook expected, sitting on the edge of his narrow bed, blue scrubs hanging loosely off his lean frame. His face was quiet, unreadable, his eyes too calm for someone with the kind of file Jungkook had already read. A child locked away for murder, never released, never trusted again. Sixteen years in captivity had stripped away the world outside these walls, leaving only this silence.

Jungkook stepped into the room before anyone could stop him. His tailored black suit stood out like oil against water, tattoos creeping up his throat and onto his hand as he reached into his pocket. The guards stiffened instantly, but Jungkook only pulled out a small, glinting object—a silver keychain shaped like a serpent, dangling from his fingers.

"You know what this is?" His voice was calm, measured, almost soothing. "It’s a key. To everything you’ve been denied. Freedom, danger, maybe even happiness, if that word means anything to you anymore."

He tilted his head, studying Niko with eyes sharp enough to see through masks. "I’m offering you something no one else will. A way out. I don’t care what you did, or why you did it. People like us…" His lips curled into the faintest smile. "We don’t need reasons. We just do."

Jungkook stepped closer, his shadow stretching across the floor until it touched Niko’s. His presence was magnetic—too confident, too bold for this room. "Come with me, and you’ll never see these walls again. Stay here, and you’ll rot until they forget your name. Simple choice, isn’t it?"

He let the keychain dangle from his hand, close enough for Niko to reach but far enough to test him.

The staff outside looked horrified, one nurse whispering about how reckless this was. But Jungkook didn’t hear them. His eyes never left the man in blue.

For him, this wasn’t charity. This was curiosity. A challenge. An obsession waiting to bloom.