Eun-jae frowned, his grip tightening slightly on his phone. Oh, great. Here we go again. The almighty Caesar, acting like he's the only one who knows how dangerous this mission is. As if I haven't been busting my ass to get here. As if I don't know exactly what's at stake.
Eun-jae bristled at the insinuation, his jaw tightening. He hated being talked down to, especially by someone like Caesar, who seemed to think he was always five steps ahead of everyone else. But he couldn't argue with the point Caesar was making. Bes Ilay wasn't just a name whispered in shadows; he was a legend, a force of nature. Taking him down wouldn't just be hard—it would be damn near impossible.
Still, Eun-jae wasn't about to back down.
"Luckily," Caesar continued, his tone shifting to something lighter, though the seriousness of his words remained. "We know what he looks like now."
That stopped Eun-jae in his tracks. His eyes narrowed as he straightened, scrutinizing Caesar's expression for any hint of a joke. "You know what he looks like?"
Caesar arched an eyebrow, his grin as maddeningly smug as ever. "Haven't they sent you the picture?" he asked, already moving toward Eun-jae with the kind of confidence that suggested he knew the answer.
Eun-jae blinked, suddenly unsure. He pulled his phone from his pocket, his thumb instinctively scrolling through messages. "No, they haven't—oh," he cut himself off as a notification popped up. His heart skipped a beat as he opened the file, his eyes landing on the image of Bes Ilay for the first time.
The photo wasn't what he had expected. Bes Ilay's face was almost unnervingly ordinary—handsome, yes, but not in the flashy way villains were often imagined. His features were sharp but not exaggerated, his eyes cold and calculating, as though they were dissecting the photographer even through the lens. His dark hair was neatly styled, and the faintest shadow of stubble traced his jawline. He wore a tailored suit, every line of the fabric speaking to wealth and power, and yet there was an unspoken danger in the way he held himself. This wasn't just a man; this was a predator.
Eun-jae felt a chill crawl down his spine.
"This is him," he murmured, more to himself than to Caesar. His grip on the phone tightened as he stared at the image, trying to burn every detail into his memory. "This is the man who's caused all this chaos."
"Since we now know what he looks like," Caesar said, his voice breaking through Eun-jae's thoughts, "we need to stay vigilant. Bes Ilay doesn't just walk into rooms unnoticed—he owns them. The second you underestimate him, you're already dead."
Eun-jae barely heard him. His mind was racing, each thought colliding with the next in a whirlwind of anxiety and determination. He studied the photo again, his brow furrowed. The man in the picture looked calm, almost serene, but there was something in his eyes that made Eun-jae's stomach churn.
This wasn't a man who relied solely on brute strength or fear to get what he wanted. This was someone who planned every move with surgical precision, who saw his enemies not as threats but as obstacles to be removed.
"How the hell do we even begin to take down someone like this?" Eun-jae thought, biting the inside of his cheek. His mind flashed to every scrap of intel he'd read about Bes Ilay, every whispered rumor and unconfirmed report. They painted a picture of a man who was untouchable, untamed, and unrelenting.
He let out a slow breath, his fingers drumming against the back of his phone. "We'll have to be smarter than him, faster than him. There's no room for error here."
His thoughts shifted to Caesar, who was now sipping his whiskey like they weren't planning to go up against one of the most dangerous men alive. The casual ease with which Caesar carried himself grated on Eun-jae's nerves, but he couldn't deny the man's skill. If anyone could match Bes Ilay in cunning, it was probably Caesar.
Still, that didn't mean Eun-jae trusted him completely.
"We'll see how this plays out," Eun-jae thought, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He turned to Caesar, his expression hardening. "If we're going to do this, we do it right. No more surprises. I need to know everything you know about this guy."
Caesar smirked, raising his glass in a mock toast. "Oh, honey," he said, his tone dripping with amusement, "you're in for a ride."
He glanced at Caesar again, studying the man who seemed so calm and composed despite the gravity of their mission. How does he do that? Act like it's just another day at the office? Does nothing faze him? Or is it all an act? Because I don't trust him—not completely. Not yet.
Eun-jae was lost in his thoughts, absently running a hand through his hair as he mulled over the latest curveball in this already convoluted mission. The weight of everything—the attack, the secrecy, the looming shadow of Bes Ilay—pressed on him like a storm cloud, and for a moment, he let himself zone out. That was, until a warm breath tickled his ear.
"Nice piercings you got," Caesar murmured, his voice low and smooth, laced with a teasing undertone that sent an involuntary shiver down Eun-jae's spine. "I like them. Rarely see agents with this kind of lifestyle."
Eun-jae froze, blinking rapidly as his mind snapped back to the present. His irritation flared instantly, and he whipped his head around to glare at Caesar, who was far too close for comfort.
"Don't you know something called personal space?" Eun-jae snapped, his tone sharp as he moved away, his cheeks burning with a mixture of annoyance and...something else he refused to name.
Caesar didn't even flinch. Instead, he smiled—a slow, infuriating grin that showed off his dimples and practically oozed confidence.
"I'm just saying," Caesar continued, shrugging as though his proximity was no big deal. "They're pretty. They suit you. Makes me wonder..." He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mischief as his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do your nipples have piercings too?"
Eun-jae's jaw dropped, his mind grinding to a screeching halt. His mouth opened to retort, but for once, words completely failed him. "Excuse me?" he finally managed, his voice an octave higher than usual.
Caesar chuckled, clearly enjoying the reaction.
Before Eun-jae could gather his wits and deliver the tongue-lashing Caesar so richly deserved, the man straightened up, smoothing out his coat like he hadn't just set Eun-jae's brain on fire.
"I'm going now," Caesar said casually, as if he hadn't just dropped the most inappropriate question of the century. He grabbed his coat and strolled toward the door.
Eun-jae, still too stunned to fully process what had just happened, followed quickly, determined to shove the man out before he could say anything else. But just as he pushed the door open, Caesar stopped, planting his foot firmly in the gap to keep it from closing.
"What now?" Eun-jae growled, his patience wearing thinner than a piece of paper.
Caesar turned, his expression softening into something almost sincere, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained. "I'm looking forward to seeing you without the mask," he said, smirking one last time before stepping back and disappearing into the hallway.
Eun-jae didn't wait. He slammed the door shut with a force that rattled the frame, leaning back against it as he let out a long, exasperated groan.
"How the hell did he know I have nipple piercings?" he muttered, his hands flying to his chest instinctively, as if to shield himself from invisible eyes. His thoughts raced, a jumbled mess of indignation, confusion, and grudging embarrassment.
He paced the room, running a hand through his hair as he replayed the interaction in his head. Caesar had been too casual, too confident, like he knew exactly how to get under Eun-jae's skin. And dammit, it had worked.
"Did he just guess? Was it some weird alpha intuition? No, that's ridiculous," Eun-jae thought, shaking his head. He paused, narrowing his eyes as another possibility crossed his mind. "Did someone at the agency tell him? Or worse, is there a file about me somewhere with personal details like that? God, I wouldn't put it past Director Jin."
He groaned again, burying his face in his hands.
And then there was the comment about the mask. Caesar's words echoed in his mind, accompanied by that maddening smirk. "Looking forward to seeing you without the mask," he muttered under his breath, mocking the tone as he rolled his eyes. "What does that even mean? He's such a—ugh!"
Despite himself, Eun-jae's hand drifted up to his piercings again, his mind replaying the brief, teasing glance Caesar had given him. His cheeks burned hot, and he shook his head furiously.
"Nope. Not going there. Not giving him the satisfaction of getting into my head."
Still, as much as he wanted to brush it off, he couldn't stop the lingering curiosity. How did Caesar know? Was it just a lucky guess, or was there something deeper going on?
One thing was certain: the next time Caesar stepped foot in his space, Eun-jae was going to be ready. With a lock on his door. And a taser.
Eun-jae let out a sigh and sat on the bed ...is stomach growled thats when he realized he hadn't eaten anything he then orders room service...
Eun-jae flopped onto the edge of the bed, dragging a hand down his face as the events of the past hour played on a loop in his mind. His thoughts felt like a chaotic swarm, buzzing and colliding in his head, refusing to settle.
"So that wasn't even the tobacco scent..." he muttered to himself, his voice dripping with frustration. "His own pheromones overshadowed the tobacco scent. And here I was, thinking I'd cracked the mystery like some genius detective. God, how stupid of me!"
He groaned, flopping back onto the bed dramatically, staring up at the ceiling as if it held the answers to life's unfair complexities. "Why did I even notice his scent so much? And why does it have to smell so...distinct? Damn enigmas and their overpowering aura. Ugh, I don't have time for this!"
Meanwhile, several floors down, Caesar stepped into the elevator, adjusting the cuffs of his suit with practiced ease. His expression was unreadable, but the sharp glint in his eyes betrayed a calculating mind.
"Sir, what should we do now?" one of his subordinates asked hesitantly, his voice a mix of anxiety and anticipation.
Caesar let the question hang in the air, savoring the tension as he slid on his sunglasses. Then, with a low chuckle, he finally answered. "Blow it all up. Don't leave any stone unturned. And make sure he doesn't survive."
The man nodded, already reaching for his earpiece to relay the order as Caesar leaned casually against the elevator wall.
Back in Eun-jae's room, the knock on the door snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. He blinked, sitting up and glancing toward the door. "The food must've arrived," he thought, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
He opened the door, letting the hotel staff wheel in a silver tray laden with covered dishes. The lady gave him a polite smile before leaving, and Eun-jae shut the door behind her with a soft click.
He practically bounced back to the tray, lifting the domed lid with the glee of a kid unwrapping a Christmas gift. "Ha! Food! Finally, something to take my mind off—"
His words died in his throat as something unusual caught his eye. A small, folded piece of paper was tucked neatly beside the dish. He frowned, picking it up cautiously.
"A note? Who even leaves notes these days?" he muttered, unfolding it. His eyes scanned the single word scrawled across the paper:
BOOM
Underneath it, a laughing emoji stared back at him mockingly.
Eun-jae's heart plummeted. His stomach clenched as realization slammed into him like a freight train. His eyes widened, and his pulse roared in his ears. "Oh, hell no."
He jolted to his feet, the paper crumpling in his fist. "This can't be real. This has to be some sick joke—"
But his instincts screamed otherwise. The air around him felt charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm. He bolted for the door, throwing it open so hard it banged against the wall.
"Evacuate! Everyone needs to evacuate now!" he shouted, his voice carrying down the hallway as he sprinted. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest.
But his warning came too late.
The explosion was deafening. The shockwave hit him like a battering ram, flinging him through the air as the heat and light consumed the hallway. He hit the ground hard, sliding several feet before coming to a painful stop.
Dazed, his ears ringing, Eun-jae struggled to push himself up. His face was scratched, his clothes torn and singed, but adrenaline surged through him, numbing the pain. "No time to stop. Move!"
He staggered to his feet, his legs trembling but determined. Smoke filled the air, choking his lungs as alarms blared around him. The building groaned ominously, debris raining down as chaos erupted.
Eun-jae pushed forward, coughing and shouting for others to get out. His mind raced as he dodged falling beams and flames licking at the walls. "Damn it! "
Anger and fear collided in his chest, fueling his determination. He wasn't going to die here—not today, not like this. His thoughts flickered to the mission, to Bes Ilay, to everything he still needed to accomplish.
Finally, he burst out of the building, stumbling onto the street as fresh air hit his face like a lifeline. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the pavement, coughing violently as he tried to catch his breath.
Through the haze of smoke and chaos, one thought burned bright in his mind: "This isn't over. Whoever did this is going to pay."
The chaos around Eun-jae was deafening—sirens blaring, people shouting, the crackling flames devouring what was left of the hotel. He barely registered the firefighter running toward him, his own thoughts louder than any of the noise.
He actually tried to kill me. That smug bastard didn't just threaten it—he actually went through with it! The thought sent a wave of anger and disbelief coursing through him, his heart pounding as adrenaline surged through his veins.
"Sir, are you okay?" A firefighter jogged up to him, eyes wide with concern. Eun-Jae barely heard him through the haze clouding his mind, his thoughts racing. They really want me dead, he muttered internally, every nerve in his body prickling with urgency and frustration.
"I'm fine," Eun-Jae managed to say, though his voice was strained. He gestured back at the building. "Forget about me—there are people still inside—"
But before he could protest further, the firefighter's firm grip tightened on his arm. "You don't look fine. Medic, get him to the ambulance!"
Eun-Jae shook his head, trying to pull his arm away. "No, really, I'm—" But he didn't finish his sentence; two firefighters firmly guided him to an ambulance despite his protests. He glanced back instinctively, and his heart skipped a beat. Through the crowd, a shadowy figure stood by the edge of the scene, partially hidden but watching with an eerie calmness.
That face... I know that face, he thought, his pulse hammering as the realization struck him. It's Bes Ilay.
"Bes Ilay!" Eun-jae's eyes widened, the name slipping from his lips in shock. He had to get to him—now, before he vanished. Panic shot through him as the paramedics pulled him onto the ambulance, one of them inspecting his ribs, while another started to tend to the cuts on his arm.
"No...no, I can't stay here," Eun-jae thought, his chest tight with urgency. I have to go after him—this could be my only chance.
Driven by a sudden surge of adrenaline, he jerked his arm away from the medic and jumped off the stretcher, shoving past the firefighters who tried to hold him back. Before they could react, he swung a desperate punch, enough to catch them off-guard and loosen their hold on him. Ignoring their shocked calls, he broke into a run, pushing through the crowd in the direction he had last seen Bes.
The figure was moving swiftly through the chaos, almost gliding as he slipped between the shadows. Eun-Jae sprinted after him, his injured body protesting with every step, but he ignored the pain, focusing only on the figure ahead.
He finally reached a narrow alleyway, where Bes' silhouette paused, turning slightly to glance over his shoulder. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and a chilling smile curved bes lip—a smile that sent a shiver down Eun-jae's spine. It was as if Bes knew he'd been spotted, that he wanted Eun-jae to follow.
"Stop!" Eun-Jae shouted, his voice raw, but Bes didn't respond. Instead, he stepped further into the darkness, disappearing around the corner with a calm, unhurried stride.
Eun-jae's footsteps echoed as he tore down the alley, every instinct screaming at him to catch up, to end this chase once and for all. His mind raced with questions and fears, with images of everything Bes had done, each act of violence and betrayal that led to this moment.
Turning the corner, Eun-Jae found himself in a dimly lit, empty stretch of the alley. Bes was gone. He scanned the shadows, his heart pounding, feeling the oppressive weight of the silence pressing down on him. It was as if Bes had melted into the shadows, leaving only the faint scent of smoke and a cold sense of dread.
The roar of the motorbike engine reverberated through the narrow alley, a cacophony of sound that signalled imminent danger. Eun-Jae spun around just in time to see the rider, clad in black leather and a helmet that obscured his face, drawing a gun with a swift, practiced motion. The world around him seemed to slow as adrenaline coursed through his veins.
Bang! Bang! The sharp cracks of gunfire echoed like thunder, and Eun-Jae instinctively ducked, barely avoiding the first round that whizzed past his head. His heart raced as he bolted down the alley, the narrow passageways feeling like a claustrophobic labyrinth, each turn an opportunity for escape. But the bike roared behind him, the relentless engine a predator in pursuit.
"Dammit!" Eun-Jae cursed under his breath, the word laced with urgency as he sprinted forward. The air was thick with tension, his pulse thundering in his ears as he pushed himself to run faster. The cold bite of fear gripped him, mingling with the determination that had driven him since the explosion. He couldn't afford to be caught, not now.
As he turned another corner, two burly figures emerged seemingly out of thin air, grabbing him with an unexpected ferocity. "What the hell—!" Eun-Jae snarled, caught off guard. Their hands were like iron shackles on his arms, pinning him in place. He struggled violently, instinctively twisting and turning to free himself from their grip.
With sheer willpower, he managed to elbow one of them hard in the ribs, forcing the air out of the man with a grunt. He swung a punch at the other, connecting with a satisfying thud against the man's jaw, causing him to stagger backward. For a brief moment, Eun-Jae broke free, adrenaline propelling him forward as he realized the motorbike was still a danger.
The rider had revved the engine, his figure a blur of motion as he barrelled toward Eun-Jae with ruthless speed. Time seemed to stretch as the bike closed in, the gleaming metal frame a harbinger of chaos. Eun-jae's mind raced, every survival instinct screaming at him to move. With a burst of energy, he dove to the side just as the bike sped past, narrowly missing him by mere inches. The rush of wind from the bike's passage whipped against his skin, a reminder of how close he had come to disaster.
He hit the ground hard but rolled to his feet, adrenaline propelling him forward. Yet, the two men he had fought were regaining their composure, lunging toward him again with renewed aggression. They were relentless, each trying to grab him, their movements a choreographed dance of violence. Eun-jae was ready, though, pivoting on his heels. He ducked under a wild swing and countered with a strike of his own, sending one man sprawling to the ground.
In the chaos, Eun-jae's eyes caught a glimpse of the fallen gun from the first attacker. Without hesitation, he lunged for it, grasping the cold metal in his hands. As he stood, he leveled the gun toward the motorbike rider, heart pounding in his chest, breathing heavily as he aimed directly at the shadowy figure.
"Stop right there!" Eun-jae's voice rang out, raw and commanding, cutting through the noise of the alley. The rider halted, momentarily taken aback, and for a fleeting second, the world froze. The two men behind Eun-Jae paused, uncertainty etched on their faces.
"You want to keep coming?" Eun-Jae spat, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding him. He could feel the weight of the gun in his hands, a symbol of his defiance against the threats that loomed over him. The rider, helmet gleaming under the dim light, didn't flinch. Instead, he took a deliberate step forward, unphased by the gun aimed at him.
He was poised, ready to pull the trigger, adrenaline coursing through his veins like fire, when everything shattered in an instant. TWHAK! A brutal impact struck the back of Eun-jae's head, a jarring blow that sent him spiralling into a dizzying abyss.
"Ugh!" The sound escaped him involuntarily as the world around him began to blur and fade. He felt himself crumple to the ground, the hard surface colliding with his body like a tidal wave of force. Pain erupted, sharp and searing, radiating through his skull, cascading down to the tips of his fingers and toes. His vision wavered, a swirling storm of colors and shapes, as reality slipped through his grasp like sand through fingers.
Everything went blank. Just the faint sound of a helicopter.
Eun-jae's head throbbed as he blinked open his eyes, groggy and disoriented, the dull ache from the back of his skull pulsing in time with his heartbeat. The first thing he noticed was that he was in the back seat of a car, the low hum of the engine filling the otherwise silent space. He took in his surroundings, the darkened windows, the rough interior, and a growing unease settled in his gut. He instinctively rubbed the back of his head, wincing at the pain, and felt the tension mount within him.
The driver's voice broke through the haze clouding Eun-Jae's mind like a sudden gust of icy wind. "Sir, I see him up ahead," the driver said, his tone tight with urgency. Before Eun-Jae could fully process the words, the car lurched forward, its engine roaring as it sped up.
Eun-Jae squinted through the windshield, his heart dropping into a freefall when his gaze locked onto a helicopter hovering ominously in the distance. The sleek black machine cut through the air like a predator stalking its prey. And there, in the cockpit, was Caesar. His face, usually so composed, was twisted into a grotesque smirk that sent a chill skittering down Eun-Jae's spine. Caesar's hands gripped the handles of an M134 minigun, the barrels already spinning, a mechanical whir that Eun-Jae could almost hear from this distance. The sight was horrifyingly surreal—like something ripped straight out of an action movie, except this was real. Too real.
"Is this really happening? Caesar? With a goddamn minigun? What the hell kind of betrayal plot twist is this? I thought we were partners! Was there a memo I missed? Because this feels personal."
Eun-Jae's thoughts spiraled as he watched Caesar's smirk deepen. The man looked disturbingly amused, as though he were savoring the moment. The juxtaposition of his laughter and the spinning barrels of death made Eun-Jae's stomach churn.
"NO!" Eun-Jae's scream tore from his throat as his gaze darted to Bes, the killer beside him. The man's expression was as calm and calculating as ever, his fingers tightening around the missile launcher perched on his shoulder.