She raises the weapon.
Bang!!.
Dead center.

A stunned pause clings to the air.

Before they can blink—
Bang!!.
Another hit. Another target down. Still calm. Still expressionless.

"Increase."
Her voice cuts through the air, sharp as the shot that came before.

They scramble, adjusting the distance. The tension thickens.

Bang!!.
Perfect.

“Again.”

Bang!!.
Bullseye.

BAEK-HYUN, arms folded and grin growing by the second, lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Man she is ruthless, not even making an effort to spare their fragile egos,”
he mutters, shaking his head, a little impressed, a little entertained.

A-RA lowers the gun with the same elegance she walked in with. No mic drop needed.

She hands the weapon back to MIN-JUN—who’s staring at it like it just betrayed him—and turns on her heel, walking back to BAEK-HYUN without sparing a single glance at the disaster she left in her wake.

The boys stay frozen in stunned silence. Even HA-JOON’s smirk has fades into something... reverent.

He leans toward MIN-JUN.

“You know…”

MIN-JUN doesn't even look at him.

“Don’t. Talk. To me.”

The sound of stunned silence still lingers behind them as A-RA and BAEK-HYUN stroll away from the shooting range like it’s just another Tuesday.

Their footsteps fall in sync. Their smirks? Practically mirrored.

“I thought we agreed you’d go easy on them,”
BAEK-HYUN murmurs, his tone half-reproach, half-delight.

A-RA doesn’t even blink.

“I did,” she replies smoothly. “Used my non-dominant hand.”

He snorts, clearly entertained.

“I could hug you, but that’d be weird. We’re at work.”

“Exactly. No one should know we’ve met outside of this building. It’d ruin my whole cold, mysterious credibility thing.”

BAEK-HYUN stretches his neck slightly, glancing sideways.

“Yeah... about that. I may have told everyone you’re my niece.”

She stops.
Turns.
Raises a perfectly skeptical brow.

“Seriously? Now everyone’s going to think I got hired because of nepotism.”

“Well—technically, you did,” he says, voice dipping into mock innocence. “I mean... who else would hire someone who—”
(He catches himself.)
“...Nope. I’m your uncle. I’m not finishing that sentence. Of course you’re qualified!”

She narrows her eyes at him.

“Since when do you care what people think?”

A-RA sighs, surrendering with a dramatic pout as they reach the hallway.

“Fine. But you’re buying me a milkshake later.”

“I will, Princess,”
BAEK-HYUN quips with a smirk.

A-RA halts mid-step, turning slowly to deliver a death glare sharp enough to slice concrete.

“Please don’t call me that at work.”

He doesn’t flinch. In fact, his grin only widens—dangerously amused.

“Do you even know why your dad and uncles started calling you that?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,”
she replies, dry as dust.

BAEK-HYUN chuckles under his breath, clearly enjoying himself way too much.

“Back when you were little, you had... let’s call them ‘rough tendencies.’”
He air quotes the phrase with mock delicacy.
“So we figured if we called you Princess, maybe you’d grow into it. Y’know—softer, sweeter…”

He pauses.
Grins again.

“Yeah. That plan spectacularly backfired.”

A-RA smirks, eyes glinting like someone already sharpening her next comeback.

“Let me guess. Because I was always in a fight?”

“Always.”
BAEK-HYUN nods, laughing.
“Your teachers had us on speed dial. But weirdly enough, you never fought your sister. Only for her.”

There’s a flicker of something softer behind the amusement now. Something quietly proud.

“Didn’t matter how big the kid was. You protected her like it was your full-time job.”

He shakes his head fondly.

“But as for everyone else…”
He exhales dramatically.
“We’ve crossed everything except our fingers hoping you’d mellow out. We tried crossing those too, once. Got exactly zero results.”

“Maybe there’s still hope.”
He grins again.
“Princess.”

A-RA shoots him a loaded side-eye as they push through the office doors.

“Honestly? I don’t think the nickname backfired.”
She shrugs like it’s obvious.
“Pretty sure I just embraced it... the wrong way.”

Her smirk curves into full-blown villain mode.

“Forget tiaras and tea parties. I went full Azula—burning bridges, plotting world domination, and looking fabulous while doing it.”

BAEK-HYUN whistles low under his breath.

Back at the shooting range—quiet now, save for the soft clatter of spent shell casings underfoot. The boys stand in front of their riddled targets, still trying to wrap their heads around the A-RA-induced chaos they just witnessed.

DO-YUN lets out a slow, soul-weary sigh, staring down at the dirt like it holds the answers to life’s biggest mistakes.

“We all read her file…”

The others nod, but it’s the kind of nod that says we clearly missed something.

YU-JUN scratches his head, brows drawn tight with confusion.

“And we did background checks. Thorough ones. Cross-referenced her combat records, dug through forums...”

He trails off, glancing at the bullet-riddled target like it just betrayed him.

“Is that even humanly possible?”

MIN-JUN exhales sharply through his nose, arms crossed.

“Tactical trainer? Nah. That wasn’t training. That was... something else. BAEK-HYUN didn’t hire a trainer—he hired a mercenary. ”

HA-JOON groans.

“Meaning we wasted all of last night building that whole fake-op plan to trick her...”

He looks ready to lie down and let fate take him.

DO-YUN nods grimly, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Yeah... Back to the drawing board.”

The team collectively sighs, the weight of defeat sinking in. They mutter amongst themselves like war survivors recounting a traumatic ambush. Their boots drag as they shuffle off the range and back toward the office, still visibly shell-shocked.

No one says it out loud, but they all know:

They never stood a chance.

The locker room buzzes with the low hum of defeated sighs and the sharp clatter of gear being stowed.

YU-JUN leans against the lockers, arms crossed, grinning far too much for someone who just got publicly humbled.

“MIN-JUN, buddy…”
He snorts.
“What a time to stand out, huh?”

MIN-JUN doesn’t even dignify that with a glare. He yanks off his tactical vest and shoves it into his locker like it insulted his lineage.

DO-YUN is half-laughing, half-reeling.

“Honestly, if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes…”
He shakes his head.
“I’d call it sci-fi. No one shoots like that. No one.”

The door creaks open.

Enter BAEK-HYUN—smirking like the devil in a dress shirt.

“Ah, gentlemen,”
He gestures dramatically like he’s on stage.
“I come bearing noble intentions… specifically to rub copious amounts of salt into the gaping wound that is your collective ego.”

Groans echo like a sad choir as the boys finish changing. They trudge out of the locker room in a defeated parade.

BAEK-HYUN lingers for a beat, clearly enjoying himself. He starts to turn back toward his office.

 LATER THAT WEEK...

Chandeliers sparkle like constellations above the crowd. Silverware chimes softly against porcelain, laughter drifting through the velvet-draped hall like a warm breeze.

At one of the most coveted tables, A-RA sits poised in a crimson gown that clings to her like fire and royalty combined. The long sleeves and high neckline whisper elegance, but the thigh-high slit screams danger. She doesn’t just attend the room—she owns it.

Beside her, her older sister radiates in a sleek black gown, laughing brightly as they exchange quick-witted banter. The two of them shine—refined, powerful, untouchable.

For a moment, it’s just warmth and wine and whispered jokes.

Then A-RA’s purse buzzes.

She glances down. The office.

Her expression sharpens instantly. The warmth fades into steel. With a practiced smile, she leans toward her sister.

“Just a quick call.”

She rises and slips away from the glittering crowd, heels echoing against the marble floor as she steps out into the crisp evening air. Moonlight spills across the stone terrace, cool and silver.

She pulls out her phone and presses it to her ear.

Then she stops cold.

Standing just a few feet away—rigid in full tactical uniform, completely out of place in this world of champagne and chandeliers—is YU-JUN.

Their eyes lock.

She doesn’t speak.

He doesn’t move.

A-RA blinks, her breath catching as she takes in the sight of YU-JUN—tactical vest, duty boots, earpiece still clipped in. 

A walking contradiction against the soft glow of string lights and the elegance of her crimson gown.

"What… What are you doing here?" she asks, tilting her head. Her voice is sharp with confusion. "Why are you dressed like you're on duty?"

YU-JUN shifts awkwardly on his feet. His eyes flicker over her silhouette before he catches himself, blinking hard as if that might reset his thoughts.

"You..." he starts, then exhales deeply, gathering himself. "...We need you."

A-RA raises a brow. She's still waiting. She doesn't move. Her presence demands clarity.

"A VIP client requested urgent transportation," he adds quickly, but the words stumble out like they’re fighting their way past his disbelief. “Air... air transportation. BAEK-HYUN told us where to find you.”

For a beat, A-RA says nothing. Then she calmly fishes her phone from her purse, calls her sister, and murmurs something about a work emergency.

Click.

"Alright," she says, turning back to him. “Lead the way.”