The hunting contest finally kicked off, though you'd be forgiven for thinking it was just a dramatic lead-up to Taehyung's one-man show. Sitting proudly atop his pristine white horse—a creature so regal it looked like it had been painted into existence—Taehyung grinned like a man who'd already won. Around his wrist, Jungkook's poor handkerchief fluttered in the breeze like a captured flag of victory.

"Jungkook!" Taehyung bellowed, raising his arm as if he were about to lead an army into battle. The handkerchief flopped limply in the wind, entirely unimpressed by its new role. "I will win this for you!"

Jungkook, standing at the edge of the field with his arms crossed, rolled his eyes so hard he almost sprained something. "It's not that serious!" he called out.

But Taehyung was already off, galloping into the forest like a knight from a romance novel—albeit one who had just weaponized a pocket square. His hair caught the sunlight in a way that was so unnecessarily dramatic it made Jungkook squint.

"Seriously, this is embarrassing," Jungkook muttered, watching as Taehyung disappeared into the trees, shouting declarations of love loud enough to scare off most of the wildlife.

The nobles, still nursing bruised egos and actual injuries from the earlier brawl, exchanged weary looks. "Why are we even here?" one of them asked, gesturing toward the forest.

"To lose, apparently," another replied, wincing as Taehyung's voice echoed back: "For Jungkook! For love! For the handkerchief!"

Jungkook groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had a feeling he'd be hearing about this day for the rest of his life.

As ridiculous and over-the-top as Taehyung's grand display had been, Jungkook found himself smiling despite it all. Taehyung was kind of... cute. If you ignored the fact that he was the male lead of a webtoon Jungkook had accidentally transmigrated into and that he—the designated villain—was on track to meet a very dramatic demise.

His brain, ever helpful, supplied an unprompted reminder of this grim reality. Jungkook groaned inwardly, scolding himself for letting his guard down. Focus! No time for simping when your life is on the line.

That's when he heard it—a voice as sugary sweet as poisoned candy.

"Young Duke Jungkook of the Jeon House," the voice drawled, practically oozing charm, "it is an honor to finally meet you."

A chill ran down Jungkook's spine. He didn't want to turn around, but his body betrayed him, twisting just enough to face the speaker. And there she was: Lee Hwayoung, the female lead. The supposed love of Taehyung's life. The woman whose mere existence was supposed to render him a puddle of lovesick clichés.

Up close, Jungkook had to admit, she was stunning. The kind of stunning that made you think of romantic ballads and sunsets and maybe even a few marriage proposals. It was almost annoying how perfect she was. No wonder the original Taehyung had fallen for her at first sight.

But the current Taehyung? The one charging through the forest yelling about his handkerchief? Yeah, he couldn't have cared less.

"What changed?" Jungkook muttered to himself, squinting at her flawless face as if it held the answer to this plot twist.

"Pardon?" Hwayoung's smile widened, sharp enough to cut glass. She tilted her head in that dainty, I'm-so-lovely-it's-practically-a-burden way. "I said, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Her voice dripped with so much sweetness that Jungkook felt like he'd accidentally wandered into a candy shop. But something about her smile felt... off. Like it was crafted in a workshop for maximum charm but lacked any actual sincerity.

Jungkook plastered on a polite smile of his own. "Ah, yes, Lady Lee. A pleasure." Please don't kill me.

She tilted her head further, her gaze sharp beneath the honeyed exterior. "I hope we can become... very close."

Jungkook's brain short-circuited. Did she mean that in a friendly way? A manipulative way? Or the 'close enough to frame you for treason' way? Probably the last one, knowing his luck.

"Of course," he replied, voice tight. Note to self: avoid her at all costs.

As Hwayoung's smile deepened, Jungkook couldn't help but feel like he'd just shaken hands with a very charming shark. And somewhere in the forest, Taehyung was probably scaring away all the wildlife while still clutching that stupid handkerchief.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

It all happened so fast, Jungkook didn't even know how he ended up in this mess. One moment, he was standing by the refreshment table, carefully balancing a precarious plate of finger sandwiches. The next, Lee Hwayoung was dramatically gasping, tripping over her own hem, and somehow flinging an entire goblet of red wine onto herself in slow motion.

The crowd turned instantly, eyes locking onto Jungkook like he'd personally poured the wine with malice in his heart. "Oh no!" Hwayoung cried, clutching the wine-soaked fabric of her gown, her voice trembling just enough to be believable. "Please, everyone—it wasn't his fault! Truly! The Young Duke didn't mean to!"

The nobles were already whispering among themselves, their expressions a mix of horror and gleeful condemnation.

"It's just typical Jungkook," someone muttered from the back. "Always causing trouble."

"He hasn't changed at all," another chimed in, shaking their head. "The villain of Jeon House strikes again."

"Of course it's him," Lady Cho sighed dramatically. "Poor Lady Lee! And she's still defending him—such a saint."

Jungkook stood frozen, staring at the spilled wine and Hwayoung's expertly arranged look of distressed martyrdom. "Wait, no—hold on!" he stammered, waving his hands. "I didn't even—she tripped over herself!"

Hwayoung turned to him with a tearful smile, as if his words had just stabbed her delicate heart. "It's all right," she said softly, her voice trembling like a violin string. "I know you didn't mean it. Truly, I don't blame you."

"Blame me for what?!" Jungkook shouted, absolutely baffled.

The whispers grew louder. "He's yelling at her now," someone hissed.

"Unbelievable," another muttered.

Jungkook looked around, frantic. "I AM NOT YELLING AT HER!"

"Look at how defensive he's getting," Lady Cho whispered, her hand fluttering to her chest. "Classic villain behavior."

At that moment, Yoongi entered the scene, completely oblivious to the chaos until he saw Jungkook waving his arms like a man trying to fight off invisible bees. He paused mid-step, taking in the crowd, the scandalized faces, and Hwayoung standing at the center of it all, looking like the tragic heroine of a romance novel.

"What did you do this time?" Yoongi asked flatly.

"Nothing!" Jungkook practically wailed. "She tripped on her own dress!"

Hwayoung sniffled, dabbing her eyes with a pristine handkerchief she'd produced from thin air. "Please don't be angry with him," she said softly, voice trembling with manufactured sorrow. "It was... just an accident."

The crowd erupted into a fresh wave of murmurs.

"She's so kind," someone said.

"Too kind for her own good," another agreed.

Yoongi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All right, that's enough," he muttered. Stepping forward, he cast a cold, unimpressed glare at the assembled nobles. "Are you all seriously this bored? What kind of circus are you running here?"

The crowd fell silent under his icy stare, though a few brave souls muttered indignantly under their breaths.

Yoongi turned to Jungkook, grabbing him by the wrist. "Let's go before they decide you've assassinated someone with a cheese knife."

"But—"

"Not. A word," Yoongi interrupted, dragging him away.

As they disappeared around the corner, Jungkook could still hear the nobles gossiping.

"Poor Lady Lee," someone sighed.

"Such a shame," another said.

"She's practically a saint," someone else whispered.

Jungkook groaned, hanging his head. "I hate it here."

Yoongi smirked faintly. "This is high society, Jungkook."

Jungkook sat slumped in the corner of the carriage, his hands twisting nervously in his lap. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, his voice trembling as he spoke. "What have I done to deserve this?"

Yoongi, seated across from him, sighed heavily. He wasn't the type to offer consolation, but the sight of Jungkook so visibly upset tugged at something in him. "Kookie," he began, his voice softer than usual, "you know your... past behavior hasn't exactly painted you as a model citizen at noble events, right? That's why they're so quick to accuse you."

Jungkook flinched at the words, his stomach sinking even further. He knew Yoongi didn't mean to hurt him, but it was hard to hear all the same. The original villain had been the epitome of arrogance and cruelty, practically checking off every box in the How to Be a Proper Scoundrel handbook. But that wasn't him. Not anymore. Not ever, really, because he wasn't even supposed to be here in the first place.

How could he explain that? That he wasn't from this world? That he was just a guy trying to survive in a story that wanted him dead? The thought made his chest tighten. Who would believe me?

As if sensing his spiraling thoughts, Yoongi's voice cut through the silence. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I won't judge you."

Jungkook blinked up at him, startled by the unexpected warmth in his tone. He hesitated before blurting out, "But I really didn't do anything, hyung! She tripped over her own dress—I swear I didn't do anything wrong!"

Yoongi studied him carefully, his sharp eyes softening just enough to show he believed him. "I know you didn't, Kookie," he said after a moment. "But you need to understand something: Lee Hwayoung... she's practically a saint in their eyes."

Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Why? Just because she spent some time in the holy nation?"

Yoongi nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "She didn't just spend time there. She practically lived there, dedicating herself to God and religion. People say she can heal the sick with a touch." He shrugged, his skepticism clear. "Personally, I think that's all nonsense. But what she is—is smart. Very smart. And she's got high society wrapped around her finger."

Jungkook leaned back against the seat, utterly defeated. "So, no one's going to believe me because she's too perfect to be wrong."

"Pretty much," Yoongi replied bluntly. "And, to be fair, it doesn't help that your reputation isn't exactly squeaky clean. You've changed a lot, especially after you fell sick, but... it's going to take time for people to see that."

The words hung heavily in the air, but Yoongi's gaze was steady, unwavering. "You've got me, though," he added quietly.

Jungkook glanced at him, surprised by the rare show of support. It wasn't much, but in that moment, it was enough to keep him from completely falling apart. "Thanks, hyung," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Yoongi simply nodded, leaning back with a casual air that didn't quite match the kindness in his eyes. "Try not to get framed for anything else before the next event, yeah?"

Jungkook let out a weak laugh, the weight on his chest lifting just a little. "No promises."