The sounds of keyboard tapping filled the little room where three young men buried themselves in the stack of papers and files. A cup of coffee was placed on the small coffee table in the middle of the room, cold and untouched as the one who made it buried himself behind his laptop. "Great, I think I might pass out any moments." Yoongi mumbled under his breath as he finally turned around to grab the cup and drank his cold coffee. Immediately, he spatted, "Damn, it's already cold!" He had been sleep-deprived these few days, working on his latest project which, if he succeed, will be able to hack into the Korea Crime Squad's database in no time. The squad, or more specifically, the squad's superior, was grating on his nerves. After that day Yoo Wonshik had announced that he and his team will hunt down BTS Investigator Team who had stole the note, he had been making quite a amount of changes in the government's database. The man had somehow managed to convince the government to change and upgrade their database, only allowing the higher rank of officers to gain access into it and not the rest. However, Yoongi was not known as the best hacker in the black market for nothing. The minute the government started to make a change, he spotted it right away and immediately reconnected back with his subordinates' help.

Namjoon, on the other hand, was scanning through the papers containing the information of all the members of Korea Crime Squad. Thanks to Yoongi, they were able to get all the information easily. He believed that the information will come in handy now that their main target Woo Jiho had turned himself in and framed them. They will need all the information they could get their hands on if they were to get Jiho and forced him to confess everything. Not only that, they had one more thing they needed to do. To retrieve Hoseok's body. So far, they were sure that his body was kept in the morgue of Seoul Hospital.

"Yoongi, how's your project going on?" Seokjin looked up from the pile of papers in his hands. His friend had been working so hard to break into the squad's database these past few days and the sight of him made the elder worried. The deep eye bags hung below his hazelnut eyes, the messy hair above his head, the way his shirt tucked out in one way and another and his constant sips coffee, all these had shown him how sleep-deprived his younger fair-skinned friend was right now. "You know, you should get some sleep." He added in a worried tone.

Yoongi flashed his teeth, "You never worry about me before. This is so not you." His statement made the other sighed inwardly. Yes, Seokjin had to admit that he never show any signs of worry towards his friends before that. Not by speaking out loud, that was. He did cared for his friends, each and every single one of them, and he considered himself the father of the group. He took care of their well-being and their physical conditions. And there was Hoseok, the mother of the group who was in charge of the tidiness of their rooms and office, their meals, and pretty much everything else. The one that aided and helped Seokjin even though they bickered around a lot. The one that constantly being loud and cheerful just to make their team's mood better. The one that hid his real emotions under his stupid grin. Seokjin missed him. He missed Hoseok. A lot.

Seokjin rolled his eyes, "I guess being kind really doesn't pay off, huh? I'll just let the coffee turn you into a coffee-addicted-expert-hacker-zombie then." He tried to joke to cover up his attempt of taking Hoseok's role as the mood-maker and the "mother". Yoongi went over to pat his shoulders, "Don't worry, I've been to much worse condition before this, remember?" Deep down, Yoongi knew Seokjin was trying to take Hoseok's role as their "mother" by stating his worries. He knew their eldest friend never meant any of his harsh words on Hoseok, on any of them. A strangled sound escaped Seokjin's throat and to both Yoongi's and Namjoon's surprise, they saw tears flowing down the eldest's cheeks. Yoongi automatically placed his arms around Seokjin and patted his back. "I missed him." Came Seokjin's muffled voice under Yoongi's shirt and the pale-skinned boy had to fight back his own tears. Namjoon moved to their side and squatted down beside Seokjin. Lightly and softly, he took his distraught friend into his arms and held his head against his chest as he murmured soothing words into Seokjin's ears. As he rubbed Seokjin's back with his hands, Yoongi caught the last sentence Namjoon said.

"We will get Hoseok back."

Taehyung had been in the weapon training room for the past few hours. This training centre had been his personal favourite spot whenever he was not in the best of mood. He picked up the small knives in the box on the table and threw them. One by one, the knives cut through the air and landed on their respective targets, two on the right chest of the plastic human-sized figurines, the rest in the centre of the dartboards hung in the training room. He smiled to himself, satisfied with his performance as he gave the purpled-haired girl a smirk. Jungmi raised her hands in defeat, "You win, you win." She had to admit that the boy in front her was really incredibly good with throwing knives and daggers.

"How did you do that?" Jungmi handed the boy a towel as he sat down beside her, "How did you hit all your targets so accurately?"

"Maths." Taehyung answered and earned himself a smack from the girl. "What does maths have to do with this?" Jungmi rolled her eyes, not satisfied with the answer given by the boy. Taehyung was wearing a normal grey t-shirt and black pants today, not his usual anime costumes and it was a rare sight for Jungmi. As far as she remembered, there was not a day that went on without Taehyung and his cosplay. The said boy fixed his gaze onto Jungmi, "Of course maths have to do in all these stuff. The sharpness of the knives, the angles the knives are thrown, the direction of the wind blow and the distance between me and my enemies, all of these needed to be considered to achieve the perfect aim. It's all about calculation." Taehyung's dark orbs sparkled as he finished. It had been so long since anyone as him about his all-time favourite subject. Even as a kid, Taehyung had been drawn by the beauty of this subject. To him, there was great intrinsic value in maths : Nothing was as straightforward and honest as Maths had been for him. Not even the people in the orphanage he grew up in and his seemingly kind and cheerful adoptive parents.

Not that Taehyung minded that. He learnt to not trust anyone anymore at the age of six, when his only friend in the orphanage lied to Mother, the old lady in charge of taking care all 15 children in the orphanage that it was Taehyung who put the cockroach into her bowl and not him. Enraged, Taehyung was caned without furthur questions. The wounds on his body were not the most painful parts, his heart was. Days turned into weeks and wounds turned into scars. They healed over the time, but not the wound in his heart. That wound never heal, even after he was adopted by the Kims at the age of nine. Taehyung was never a loud and playful child to begin with, and what happened back in the orphanage had only made him quieter and more introvert than he already was. Within days of his arrival in the huge mansion, he quickly found out that the Kim's household wasn't as perfect as they had potrayed in the public's eyes. Mr. Kim, the renowned surgeon, wasn't quite the perfect husband as the rest of the world had claimed him to be. The man had had countless affairs with all his pretty nurses, and those weren't even a secret to Mrs. Kim, his wife. Why? Because Mrs. Kim herself was just the same as her husband. She was in a relationship with her CEO. To them, adopting a quiet child like Taehyung was just an act of perfecting their portrait of perfect family for the rest of the world to admire.

Taehyung learnt to act, to perfect his role as the precious son of Mr. and Mrs. Kim. Using the only thing his adoptive parents had given him all these years, money, he focused on his studies, excelled in every subjects and became the role model of his fellow students in the most prestigious college he attended. And it was then he found his passion in maths. The digits, the unknowns, the formulas, everything about Mathematics fascinated him. He found peace in the world of maths, of plus and minus, of multiply and division. It was so straightforward, unlike those humans around him. Surprisingly, he found what he yearnt most in this particular subject. Honesty. He set his goal. He wanted to become an actuary. But things never go quite as one had planned.

Throughout the years, the young boy finished his PhD in actuarial science and accounting, and instead of becoming an actuary as he initially planned, Taehyung became a math professor instead. And few years ago, he was recruited into this team by Yoongi, a stranger he met in a club one rainy night. Taehyung wasn't sure how he ended up agreeing to join the team, perhaps the neon lights had blinded his keen eyes, or the alcohol was messing with his calculative mind, or maybe he just wanted a route to escape his boring life and the pale-skinned guy just happened to offer one, he didn't really remembered nor did he cared. But after that fateful night, Taehyung had came to enjoyed the company of these bunch of people as they lived under the same roof and did missions together. They might be cunning and sly and scary in many ways to others, but among themselves, they shared love, and care, and friendship. True friendship. With them, Taehyung learnt to talk, to joke, to share his true feelings. He learnt to make real friends.

Jungmi cocked a brow, "You mean you calculate e