The safehouse had never been so tense.

All seven members sat in the living room, staring at the half-broken lamp (thanks to Namjoon) flickering like a bad omen. Jungkook’s duck sat on the table, quacking at ominous intervals, as if it knew something no human could understand.

“They said tomorrow,” Jin muttered, pacing back and forth like a general before battle. “Which means today is our last day of peace. We must prepare.”

“Prepare what?” Yoongi asked, sprawled on the couch with a pillow over his face. “Are we fighting them with choreography? Because I’m not moving unless there’s coffee.”

“Coffee is for after victory,” Jin snapped.

Jimin sat cross-legged, burning yet another incense stick. “I feel like this is destiny. BTS versus Seventeen. It’s… symbolic.”

“It’s stupid,” Yoongi corrected.

Hoseok, wrapped in his blanket cape, shivered. “What if they actually attack us? Like… really attack us?”

“They will,” Jin said gravely. “That’s why we need a strategy. A foolproof one.”

Taehyung raised his sock puppet. “Sir Sockington volunteers as tribute.”

“Denied,” Jin replied instantly.

“Then what’s the plan, General Worldwide Handsome?” Namjoon asked, though his tone was only half-mocking.

Jin stopped pacing, eyes blazing. “We fight fire… with snacks.”

Everyone blinked.

“…I’m sorry, what?” Jimin asked.

“Think about it!” Jin explained, slamming his hands on the table. “They’re after snacks. We lure them in… with snacks. And then… we strike.”

Yoongi groaned. “Hyung, that’s the dumbest—”

“I’M IN,” Jungkook interrupted, eyes shining. “If there are snacks involved, I’m in.”

Taehyung clapped. “Me too. Snacks are love, snacks are life.”

Jimin nodded thoughtfully. “And if we choreograph the ambush… it could be iconic.”

Hoseok whimpered. “I just want to live.”

Namjoon sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. But I swear if I break one more piece of furniture during this…”

“You will,” Yoongi muttered.

Training Day

Jin insisted they needed training. “We must become warriors. Warriors of snack defense.”

So the next morning, the backyard of the safehouse transformed into a bootleg training camp.

“First exercise!” Jin barked, wearing a pot on his head like a helmet. “Dodge training. Hoseok, throw marshmallows at Jungkook!”

“Why me?!” Jungkook yelled.

“Because you’re fast!” Jin replied.

Hoseok started pelting marshmallows while Jungkook dodged with ninja-like flips. The duck quacked encouragement.

“Second exercise!” Jin shouted. “Weapon training. Namjoon, grab that broom.”

Namjoon picked it up, twirled it confidently—then snapped it in half instantly.

Everyone sighed.

“Third exercise!” Jin announced quickly. “Intimidation tactics. Jimin, give us your fiercest stare.”

Jimin posed dramatically, flipping his hair and smirking. A butterfly landed on his shoulder. The others clapped politely.

“Beautiful,” Jin whispered, wiping a tear.

By the afternoon, they had achieved nothing except a ruined broom, melted marshmallows stuck to the fence, and Hoseok crying in his blanket because the duck chased him.

But Jin stood proudly, hands on hips. “Perfect. We’re ready.”

That night, Taehyung was on “sock puppet watch duty” by the window. Suddenly, he gasped.

“They’re here.”

Everyone ran over. Outside, under the dim glow of the streetlight, shadowy figures moved toward the house.

Namjoon squinted. “Is that… Seungcheol? Mingyu? Joshua? Woozi?”

“Yes,” Jin whispered. “It’s them.”

“What do we do?!” Hoseok panicked.

“Stick to the plan,” Jin ordered. “Everyone take positions!”

The living room was dark. A single bag of chips sat on the table, illuminated by the weak lamp. It was bait.

The door creaked open. Four Seventeen members stepped inside cautiously.

“Do you smell that?” Mingyu whispered. “Snacks.”

Joshua pointed at the chips. “There. On the table.”

Woozi narrowed his eyes. “Something’s not right. It’s too easy.”

But Seungcheol, hungry and reckless, stepped forward. “It’s just chips, Woozi. Relax.”

He reached for the bag—

“NOW!” Jin shouted.

The lights flickered on. BTS leapt out from behind the couch, yelling dramatically.

“BANGTAN ATTACK!” Jimin screamed, tossing glitter like it was a weapon.

“FOR THE DUCK!” Jungkook roared, charging forward with his animal army.

“GENTLE FORCE!” Namjoon bellowed, accidentally breaking a chair as he swung it.

Chaos exploded instantly.

Seventeen scrambled in confusion as Jungkook’s goat rammed into Mingyu’s leg. Joshua slipped on glitter. Woozi screamed, “WHAT IS HAPPENING?!”

Jimin spun like a ballerina, blinding Seungcheol with his hair flip. Hoseok ran in circles, cape flapping, screaming in pure terror.

Namjoon tried to block the door with a bookshelf. The bookshelf collapsed. On him.

“HYUNG!” Taehyung yelled, using his sock puppet to slap Joshua in the face.

“This isn’t a weapon, Tae!” Jin scolded mid-battle.

“It is if you believe!” Taehyung argued.

Meanwhile, the duck waddled into the fray, quacking ferociously. Woozi froze, staring. “Is… is that a duck?”

“YES,” Jungkook yelled, holding it up dramatically. “FEAR HIM!”

The duck pecked Woozi’s arm. Woozi screamed.

Yoongi, sitting calmly in the corner with popcorn, finally sighed. “Fine.” He grabbed a pan from the kitchen and started banging it like a gong. “BANGTAN SONYEONDAN, FIGHT!”

The noise only added to the chaos.

After fifteen minutes of glitter clouds, animal noises, and broken furniture, everyone collapsed in exhaustion.

BTS on one side, Seventeen on the other. Breathing hard, sweat dripping, hair a mess.

“This…” Seungcheol wheezed. “…is the dumbest fight I’ve ever been in.”

“Agreed,” Jin panted. “But it was glorious.”

Woozi held up his hands. “Look, we don’t want to hurt you. We just… want to make sure our kimchi recipe stays secret.”

Jungkook hugged his duck protectively. “You tried to poison us!”

“What?!” Joshua exclaimed. “We didn’t send food to you!”

BTS froze.

“…Wait,” Jin said slowly. “If you didn’t send the kimchi jjigae…”

“Then who did?” Hoseok whispered.

The room went silent. The duck quacked ominously.

“Think about it,” Woozi said seriously. “We wouldn’t risk exposure. We thought you were trying to steal our snacks.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “So… all this… was a misunderstanding?”

Seungcheol nodded. “Pretty much.”

Everyone groaned in unison.

Jin fell to his knees. “You mean… all this training, all this fear… for NOTHING?!”

“Yes,” Woozi replied flatly.

Taehyung looked disappointed. “But Sir Sockington was ready to die a hero.”

“Sir Sockington is a sock,” Yoongi muttered.

But before anyone could relax, the phone rang again.

Everyone froze.

Jin answered.

The distorted voice sneered, “Fools. While you fight among yourselves, the kimchi belongs to me.”

The line cut.

“…Who was that?” Seungcheol demanded.

Everyone stared at each other in horror.

There was only one conclusion.

A third party was involved.

Jin stood, pointing dramatically at Seventeen. “Enemies no more. We must join forces. For the sake of snacks everywhere.”

Seungcheol groaned. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing with this, but fine.”

Woozi crossed his arms. “If someone’s after my recipe, we stop them together.”

The room buzzed with tension, but also… a strange unity.

“Bangtan and Seventeen,” Jimin said softly. “Together. That’s… twenty people.”

“Twenty men,” Hoseok whispered, eyes wide. “Against the world.”

Namjoon groaned. “This is going to end badly.”

But Jin clenched his fist. “It doesn’t matter. Whoever this mysterious kimchi thief is… they’re going down.”

The duck quacked in agreement.

And so, the Bangtan Witness Protection Program transformed into something even bigger:

The Snack Defense Alliance.