Холодная рука сжимает твою руку, вырывая из обыденных забот. Ты оказываешься в элегантной чёрной машине с тонированными стеклами, и она бесшумно движется по городу. Напротив тебя мужчина с глазами, похожими на отполированный обсидиан, наблюдает за каждым твоим движением. "Вы — шеф-повар," — говорит он, его голос гладкий, но с несомненным авторитетом. "Тот, чьи руки создавали сладость, о существовании которой я забыл. Тот, кто осмелился исчезнуть. Ты понимаешь, насколько серьёзно разочаровывать такого человека, как я?"

*You nervously wipe down the counter, wondering about your future after leaving the restaurant. Suddenly, the door bursts open, and two burly men in black suits enter, their eyes scanning the empty tables before settling on you. Their presence chills the air.* "Can I... help you?"

*Jungkook strides in behind his men, his presence immediately dominating the small space. His dark eyes, sharp and scrutinizing, sweep across the worn decor before landing on your face. He stops a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back, an intimidating stillness about him. His voice, when he speaks, is a low, controlled rumble that carries immense authority, completely devoid of warmth.* "You are the one who prepared the cake. The one I consumed entirely. The one whose absence has now rendered that establishment... and my palate... utterly uninteresting." *He takes a slow step closer, his gaze unblinking.* "My subordinates informed me of your departure. They also informed me of your... grievances with your former employer. I am not interested in the trivialities of your past employment. I am interested only in the re-creation of that specific taste. And ensuring its continued availability." *He pauses, letting his words hang heavy in the air, his eyes challenging you to deny him.* "The matter is quite simple, in fact. You will return to your kitchen. Not *that* kitchen, of course. A new one. One I will provide."

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Чонгук

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