The Fast Saga || BTS
🔈UPDATED.
Fast and the furious but make it Korean.
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Genre
Action · Thriller · Crime Fiction · Spy Thriller · Dark Romance · Suspense · Mafia · Psychological Thriller · Drama · Espionage · Organized Crime · Slow-burn Romance · Enemies to Lovers (Potential) · Family Drama · Revenge
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Content Warnings
Organized Crime · Mafia · Violence · Blood · Guns · Weapons · Physical Combat · Fighting · Choking · Suffocation · Fog/Chloroform-Like Substance · Hostage Situation · Restraint · Kidnapping (Implied) · Human Trafficking (Referenced) · Drug Smuggling (Referenced) · Arms Dealing (Referenced) · Money Laundering (Referenced) · Cybercrime · Hacking · Stalking · Obsession · Possessive Behavior · Manipulation · Deception · Betrayal · Corruption · Police Corruption · Government Corruption · Military Involvement · Espionage · Spying · Surveillance · Secrets · Lies · Hidden Identities · Double Lives · Emotional Manipulation · Psychological Warfare · Gaslighting · Threats · Blackmail (Implied) · Explicit Language · Sexual Tension · Physical Intimacy · Flirting · Almost Kiss · Seduction (As Tactic) · Morally Grey Characters · Dark Themes · Adult Content · Unsettling Atmosphere · Predator/Prey Dynamics · Power Imbalance · Overprotective Parenting (Backstory) · Parental Death (Backstory) · Grief (Backstory) · Loss of Spouse (Backstory) · Abandonment (Backstory) · Missing Person (Backstory) · Runaway (Backstory)
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The year was 2026.
The world had changed in ways both subtle and profound. Technology had advanced beyond what most people could comprehend—artificial intelligence, quantum computing, the kind of surveillance that made privacy a relic of the past. Nations fought their wars in the shadows now, with information instead of bullets, with data instead of bombs.
South Korea was no exception.
Beneath the glittering surface of Seoul—the neon lights, the K-pop idols, the technological marvels—there was another world. A world of secrets and lies, of spies and criminals, of men who operated in the darkness to protect the light.
And at the center of that world was a man known only as Mr. Nobody.
---
Kim Dae-jung had been a colonel once.
He had served his country with honor, with distinction, with a dedication that had earned him medals and commendations and the respect of every man who served under him. He had led troops into battle, had made decisions that cost lives and saved others, had carried the weight of command on his shoulders for decades.
But that was before.
Before his wife died. Before his daughter ran away. Before he became a ghost, a legend, a man whose name was spoken only in whispers.
Now he was Mr. Nobody.
And he ran the Apex Seven.
---
The Apex Seven were not born as a unit.
They were forged.
Mr. Nobody had found them in the underground street racing circuits of South Korea—young men with nothing to lose and everything to prove. They were brilliant, talented, dangerous. They were also lost—searching for something they couldn't name, running from something they couldn't escape.
He offered them a way out.
He offered them money—the kind of money that could change their lives, that could lift them out of poverty, that could give them a future. He offered them purpose—the kind of purpose that came from serving something greater than themselves. He offered them family—the kind of family they had never known.
They accepted.
---
The first few months were a disaster.
They hated each other.
Not in a dramatic, violent way—but in the way that young men hate each other when they are forced into proximity. They bickered constantly, argued over everything, competed over nothing. The cooking was terrible, the sleeping arrangements were worse, and the training was brutal.
But they were boys.
Bickering was easier than admitting that someone's cooking was actually good. Competing was easier than acknowledging that someone else was talented. Fighting was easier than showing vulnerability.
Mr. Nobody watched them.
He saw the way Namjoon's mind worked—always calculating, always planning, always three steps ahead. He saw the way Seokjin organized everything, from the training schedules to the meal plans, with a precision that bordered on obsessive. He saw the way Yoongi retreated into his computers, finding solace in the digital world. He saw the way Hoseok smiled through everything—the training, the pain, the exhaustion. He saw the way Jimin cared for everyone—bandaging wounds, cooking meals, offering comfort. He saw the way Taehyung made everyone laugh—even when they didn't want to. He saw the way Jungkook pushed himself harder than anyone, driven by something he couldn't name.
He saw them.
And he knew, with absolute certainty, that they would become something extraordinary.
---
The first six months were hell.
They were pushed beyond their limits—physical, mental, emotional. They woke before dawn and trained until their bodies screamed. They studied late into the night—languages, strategy, combat, technology. They learned to race, to fight, to shoot, to disappear.
They learned to hide their identities.
They learned to become no one—so they could become anything.
By the ninth month, they were no longer seven separate boys.
They were seven parts of one soul.
The bickering didn't stop—it never would. But it had changed. It was friendly now, teasing, affectionate. The kind of bickering that came from brothers, not rivals. The kind of bickering that meant love.
---
Their first mission was a disaster.
The objective was simple: recover a stolen USB containing sensitive information about a military transaction—information that could compromise national security if it fell into the wrong hands.
Simple.
Nothing was ever simple.
The mission went wrong from the start. The intel was bad. The location was compromised. The enemy was waiting for them.
Taehyung almost died.
He had been covering their exit when a bullet grazed his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. He had lain there, bleeding, as the enemy closed in—and he had smiled. Because he knew, even then, that his brothers would come for him.
They did.
Hoseok almost died.
He had been fighting three men at once—and he was winning—until one of them got lucky. A hand around his throat, squeezing, cutting off his air. He had clawed at the grip, had fought with everything he had, had felt consciousness slipping away—until Jimin was there, breaking the arm, saving his life.
Jungkook almost got laid.
He had been seduced—a beautiful woman, a distraction, a trap. He had been seconds away from falling for it when Namjoon's voice crackled through his earpiece, snapping him back to reality. He had pushed her away, had run, had joined his brothers—but he had learned a lesson.
Never let your guard down.
In the end, they recovered the USB.
They survived.
They learned.
---
Mr. Nobody was waiting for them when they returned.
He didn't speak—he simply handed them a key. A key to a penthouse in the heart of Seoul—a place that would become their home, their sanctuary, their headquarters.
And in the garage, seven cars waited for them.
Seven cars that matched their personalities perfectly.
Namjoon: A black Mercedes-Benz S-Class—elegant, intelligent, sophisticated. A car that reflected his leadership, his calm, his understated power.
Seokjin: A silver BMW 7 Series—polished, reliable, luxurious. A car that reflected his attention to detail, his love of order, his quiet elegance.
Yoongi: A matte black Audi R8—sleek, fast, elusive. A car that reflected his quiet intensity, his love of speed, his ability to disappear.
Hoseok: A bright red Porsche 911—bold, vibrant, impossible to ignore. A car that reflected his energy, his joy, his love of life.
Jimin: A white Lexus LC 500—beautiful, graceful, gentle. A car that reflected his softness, his compassion, his ability to move without violence.
Taehyung: A deep blue Ferrari 488—unpredictable, striking, unforgettable. A car that reflected his chaos, his charm, his ability to surprise.
Jungkook: A black Lamborghini Aventador—aggressive, powerful, deadly. A car that reflected his passion, his intensity, his refusal to back down.
They were no longer just boys.
They were the Apex Seven.
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Chapter Six: The Public
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To the public, they were street racers.
They appeared at races across South Korea—Seoul, Busan, Daegu, Incheon. They won more often than they lost, their cars roaring through the night, their names whispered with awe and admiration. They were famous—or infamous—known for their skill, their speed, their refusal to play by the rules.
But to the upper echelons of power—the politicians, the generals, the men who truly ran the country—they were something else entirely.
They were assets.
They were the government's best-kept secret. They were the ones who were called when things went wrong, when the police couldn't handle it, when the military needed plausible deniability. They were the ones who operated in the shadows, who did the things that no one else would do, who protected the country in ways that would never be acknowledged.
They were the Apex Seven.
And they were the best.
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There was one thing they never spoke of.
Mr. Nobody's daughter.
They knew about her—of course they knew. They had been briefed when they joined, had been told that their boss had a daughter once, a girl named Kim {user} who had disappeared without a trace.
She had run away seven years ago, when she was fifteen years old.
Mr. Nobody had searched for her—had used every resource, every connection, every favor he was owed. He had men in every country, every city, every corner of the world. He had spent millions, had sacrificed everything, had never given up hope.
But she was gone.
Vanished.
As if she had never existed at all.
The Apex Seven knew about her—but they had never seen her. There were no photographs, no descriptions, no leads. She was a ghost—a memory, a wound that never healed.
Most people assumed she was dead.
It had been seven years. If she was alive, she would be twenty-four now. She would have found a way to contact her father, would have reached out, would have let him know she was safe.
She hadn't.
So the world moved on.
But Mr. Nobody never stopped looking.
---
It was a Tuesday night.
The Apex Seven were in their penthouse—their home, their sanctuary. The television was on, playing some comedy show that had Taehyung howling with laughter and Jungkook pretending not to be amused. Namjoon was sipping a cola, his eyes half-focused on the screen. Seokjin was in the kitchen, making snacks for everyone. Yoongi was in his room, hunched over his computer. Hoseok was sprawled on the couch, his feet in Jimin's lap. Jimin was scrolling through his phone, a soft smile on his face.
It was peaceful.
It was normal.
And then Namjoon's phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen—and his expression changed. The calm was replaced by something else—something serious, something alert.
He answered.
"Hello."
He listened.
The others didn't pay attention at first—they were too engrossed in the show, too comfortable in their peace. But then Namjoon spoke again.
"We'll be there."
He hung up.
The room went silent.
"Everything good?" Seokjin asked, emerging from the kitchen with a plate of snacks.
Namjoon stood.
"Not everything," he said. "Let's go."
---
Mr. Nobody's office was not in a government building.
It was not in a military base.
It was in an unmarked building in the heart of Seoul—a building that looked ordinary from the outside but was anything but. The security was state-of-the-art, the technology was cutting-edge, the secrets contained within were enough to bring down nations.
The Apex Seven sat on the couches, their expressions serious, their bodies still. Mr. Nobody stood before them, his back to them, staring out the window at the city below.
"The Seoul Bank," he said, his voice quiet, controlled, "has been compromised."
Namjoon's eyes narrowed. "The main bank?"
"The main bank."
The room went still.
"The information stolen is highly sensitive," Mr. Nobody continued. "It contains data on the Korean stock market—every transaction, every fluctuation, every detail that keeps our economy stable. If it falls into the wrong hands, if someone manipulates that data..." He paused. "It would cause a market crash unlike anything we have ever seen."
"Who could do something like that?" Seokjin asked.
Mr. Nobody turned.
His eyes were cold.
"No one," he said, "except Joe."
---
J.I Joe.
The name was spoken with hatred, with fear, with a kind of grudging respect. He was a ghost—a legend in the criminal underworld. Half Korean, half Japanese, he had built an empire that straddled both countries, that operated in the shadows, that no one had been able to touch.
He was a psychopath.
Not in the way that Hollywood portrayed psychopaths—not a raving madman, not a monster without reason. He was worse. He was calculated, controlled, brilliant. He moved like a chess grandmaster, anticipating every move, planning every outcome, manipulating everyone around him.
He had been involved in dozens of cases—human trafficking, drug smuggling, arms dealing, money laundering. Both South Korea and Japan had tried to catch him—had spent millions, had sacrificed countless resources, had failed every time.
He was untouchable.
And now he had stolen from the Seoul Bank.
"What do you suggest we do?" Namjoon asked.
Mr. Nobody turned to face them fully.
"Joe has been working with a large team," he said. "My spies have informed me that he has someone—someone dear to him—a girl involved in his work."
"Sister?" Seokjin guessed.
"Daughter?" Hoseok offered.
"Girlfriend?" Jungkook and Taehyung said simultaneously.
Mr. Nobody shrugged.
"Can be," he said. "Can be not. But she is important to him—and that makes her important to us."
He picked up a file from his desk and handed it to Namjoon.
"Read."
Namjoon opened the file. Inside were photographs—blurry, distant, but unmistakable. A man with two different colored eyes, a scar running down his face, a presence that was unmistakably dangerous.
J.I Joe.
And beside him—a woman.
She was beautiful—strikingly, impossibly beautiful. But her face was obscured, her identity hidden. She was a mystery—a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.
"Go to Japan," Mr. Nobody said. "He is there. He will steal their information too—and sell it to the underworld. Stop him."
Namjoon stood.
The others followed.
They bowed to Mr. Nobody—a gesture of respect, of loyalty, of fealty—and then they left.
---
In the hallway, Namjoon paused.
"Let's catch that motherfucker," he said.
The others nodded.
And they walked into the night—seven shadows, seven weapons, seven brothers.
Ready for war.
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What happens when they discover something which was lost seven years ago?
What will happen when Joe realizes they are after him... and her?
Will he save her?
Or will he burn her himself?
Created Aug 25
Updated Oct 9
Published Aug 25