chapter 7

Igor hesitated for a moment, the grin on his face faltering ever so slightly. "Is there a problem, Mr. Nikolai?"

Eun-jae didn't answer. Instead, he pulled the gun from his bag, the metallic glint catching the dim light of the alley as he leveled it directly at Igor's head. His expression was stone-cold, his eyes locked onto the man in the mirror.

"I said, stop the car," Eun-jae repeated, his voice razor-sharp.

Igor's hands froze , his eyes darting to the gun. But then, instead of panicking, he smiled—a slow, creepy smile that sent a shiver down Eun-jae's spine.

"Smart," Igor said, his tone dripping with amusement.

Eun-jae's glare didn't waver. "Who are you? Are you working for Bes Ilay?" His voice was low and dangerous, every word laced with authority.

Igor chuckled softly, his shoulders shaking as if this was all a big joke. "What do you think, Nikolai?" he said, his cheerful façade dropping entirely.

Eun-jae's stomach churned, but he didn't let it show. "So this was a setup," he thought bitterly. "Of course it was. I knew this guy was too chatty to be legit. I should've trusted my gut from the start."

The car slowed to a stop, and Eun-jae kept the gun trained on Igor, his mind racing through possible scenarios. "I could take him out now, but if he's working for Bes Ilay, that means there's probably backup nearby. Damn it, why do things always have to go sideways?"

Igor turned to face him, his smile still unnervingly calm. "You're in over your head, Mr. Nikolai. Or should I say... Agent?"

Eun-jae's jaw tightened, his teeth clenching so hard he could feel the tension radiating down his neck. His grip on the gun was rock-steady, his finger poised near the trigger as his sharp gaze bore into Igor. His voice cut through the tense silence like the edge of a razor, low and dripping with controlled fury. "If you think I'm going to make this easy for you, you're dead—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the world exploded around him. A deafening crack pierced the air, followed by a relentless symphony of gunfire. Bang! Bang! Bang! The windows of the car shattered into a thousand glittering shards, spraying across the interior like jagged rain. Eun-jae ducked instinctively, his body reacting faster than his brain could process the chaos.

"What the actual hell?!" his mind screamed, heart pounding like a drumbeat of survival. He pressed himself against the seat, one hand gripping the edge of the door for balance, the other keeping the gun trained on Igor.

The barrage of bullets didn't let up, ricocheting off the metal frame of the car and puncturing the seats around him. A jagged shard of glass nicked his cheek, and the sting was sharp enough to make him wince, but he didn't dare move more than necessary. His eyes darted to Igor, whose smug expression had morphed into one of wide-eyed panic.

"Oh, now you're scared?" Eun-jae thought bitterly, his lip curling into a sneer. The driver, seated up front, was shouting something incoherent over the gunfire, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel. The car swerved violently, narrowly missing a lamppost as the driver tried to outrun the unseen assailants.

Eun-jae didn't have time to figure out who was shooting or why. His focus narrowed to survival, and survival alone. "Drive!" he barked at the driver, his voice cutting through the chaos like a whip. "Don't stop unless you want to end up full of holes!"

The driver nodded frantically, slamming his foot on the gas. The car lurched forward, tires screeching against the pavement as it veered down a side street. But the gunfire followed them, relentless and unyielding.

Eun-jae risked a glance out the shattered window, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of the attackers. It was hard to see through the chaos, but then, for just a moment, he caught a glimpse of something—or someone. A tall, broad-shouldered figure stood at the end of the street, silhouetted against the dim glow of a streetlight.

The figure didn't move, didn't flinch, even as bullets whizzed past. They simply stood there, watching. Observing. It was unnerving, the eerie stillness amidst the chaos.

Eun-jae's breath hitched, his heart skipping a beat. "Bes Ilay," he muttered under his breath, the name slipping from his lips like a curse. "He already knows I'm here. How the hell does he always know?!" His thoughts spiraled, but there was no time to dwell.

A sudden, precise shot rang out, slicing through the cacophony. Eun-jae watched in horror as the driver's head snapped forward, blood splattering the windshield. The man slumped over the wheel, his lifeless body jerking with the momentum of the car.

"Shit!" Eun-jae yelled, bracing himself as the car swerved wildly, careening out of control. He grabbed the edge of the dashboard, his knuckles turning white as he fought to steady himself. The vehicle veered dangerously close to a building before smashing headlong into a concrete wall.

The impact was brutal. Eun-jae was thrown forward, the seatbelt cutting into his torso as his shoulder slammed against the door. Pain radiated through his body, sharp and immediate. For a moment, the world spun, the edges of his vision darkening as he fought to stay conscious.

"Ugh…" he groaned, fumbling for the door handle with trembling fingers. His wig had been knocked loose in the crash, revealing his long, dark hair, now matted with blood from a gash on his forehead. He shoved the door open, stumbling out into the cold Moscow night.

His body ached with every step, but he pushed through the pain, limping toward the trunk. "A nice way to welcome an agent to Moscow," he thought bitterly, his inner monologue laced with sarcasm. "Really rolling out the red carpet here."

He managed to wrench the trunk open, reaching for his luggage with shaky hands. But just as his fingers grazed the handle, a cold voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Stop. Don't move," Igor growled, his voice low and menacing.

Eun-jae froze, his heart hammering in his chest. "You've got to be kidding me," he thought, cursing himself for not making sure Igor was down for good earlier. Slowly, he turned to face the man, his hands raised in mock surrender.

Igor's face was twisted into a grin, blood trickling from a wound on his arm. Despite his injuries, he stood tall, the barrel of his gun aimed directly at Eun-jae's chest. "You're tougher than I expected," Igor said, his voice dripping with condescension. "But not tough enough."

Before Eun-jae could respond, another wave of gunfire erupted, this time closer and more intense. Without thinking, he lunged forward, grabbing Igor and pulling him into the line of fire. The man let out a strangled cry as bullets tore into him, his body jerking violently before going limp.

Eun-jae didn't waste a second. He dropped Igor's lifeless body and broke into a sprint, his boots crunching against the icy pavement. The shooting didn't let up, bullets ricocheting off the walls around him.

"Do they really want me dead this badly?!" he thought, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His lungs burned, his legs screamed in protest, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

He rounded a corner, skidding slightly on the ice, and kept running. His thoughts churned with questions, but he shoved them aside. Survival was the only thing that mattered now. "I'll deal with this later," he thought grimly, his eyes narrowing as he pushed himself to keep moving. "If I live that long."

The world turned into a blur of chaos as Eun-jae ran, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. The icy air tore at his lungs, but he didn't dare stop. Each step was a fight against the burning in his muscles and the sharp ache in his ribs. He pushed forward, his mind laser-focused on survival, even as the echo of gunfire trailed behind him like an ominous soundtrack.

Then it happened. Out of nowhere, a car came hurtling toward him, its headlights slicing through the dark like twin daggers. The screech of tires on pavement was the only warning he got before the vehicle slammed into him with brutal force. The impact was like a freight train hitting his body, throwing him into the air like a rag doll. Time seemed to slow as he flew, the world spinning in a dizzying kaleidoscope of movement.

He crashed into a green dumpster with a bone-jarring thud, the metal groaning under the force of his body. Pain exploded in his side, sharp and searing, making him suck in a breath through clenched teeth. His mask, the carefully crafted silicone disguise that had shielded his identity, was ripped away in the chaos, landing a few feet away.

"Ugh!" A guttural groan escaped his lips as he struggled to sit up, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His head pounded, a symphony of pain and adrenaline that threatened to overwhelm him.

A shout cut through the haze. "FOUND HIM!" The man who had driven the car leaned out of the window, pointing directly at Eun-jae. His voice carried through the night, alerting anyone within earshot. "HE'S HERE!"

Eun-jae's heart sank, but only for a fraction of a second. There was no time to dwell on the worsening odds. He spat blood onto the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he staggered to his feet. The sharp sting of pain radiated through his entire body, but he ignored it. Pain meant he was still alive, and being alive meant he still had a chance.

"They're really going all out for me, huh?" he thought bitterly, his lips curling into a grimace. His mind raced, analyzing the situation. He glanced at the dumpster he'd collided with, then up at the low rooftop above. A plan began to form, reckless and desperate, but it was better than standing there waiting to be shot.

With a burst of energy fueled by sheer determination, Eun-jae leapt onto the edge of the dumpster, using it as a makeshift springboard. His movements were fluid and precise, a testament to his years of training. He vaulted onto the roof in one swift motion, his fingers gripping the edge as he pulled himself up with surprising agility.

The men below watched in disbelief, their faces a mix of frustration and awe. "What? How isn't he tired?" one of them muttered, his voice laced with exasperation. He turned to his companions, shouting orders. "HE'S ON THE ROOF!"

Eun-jae didn't stop to look back. His feet pounded against the cold, flat surface of the rooftop as he sprinted forward. His thoughts churned, a mix of sarcasm and determination. "Not tired? You try running for your life with half of Moscow shooting at you. I'm running on spite and adrenaline at this point."

Eun-jae crouched low, his body pressed tightly against the rough, gritty surface of the rooftop, every muscle in his lean frame coiled with tension. The sharp texture of the concrete beneath him bit into his palms, but he barely noticed. His senses were on high alert, honed and focused on the scene unfolding below. Every sound seemed amplified in the quiet of the night—the faint rustle of leaves in the wind, the distant hum of a car engine, the steady, rhythmic thumping of his own heart pounding in his chest.

His breathing was steady, controlled, and almost imperceptible, but beneath his calm exterior, his heart was hammering like a drum. The tension of the moment was electric, coursing through his veins like a live wire. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to move, to act, to strike first, but he forced himself to stay still. Patience. This isn't the time to make a mistake. You've been here before. You know how this works.

The smell of the night air was tinged with the faint metallic scent of blood and gunpowder, lingering reminders of the chaos that had already unfolded. It mingled with the damp, earthy smell of the city, creating an atmosphere that was both suffocating and sharp. The weight of his situation pressed down on him like an invisible hand, but Eun-jae didn't falter. He couldn't afford to. His training had taught him to suppress fear, to push it deep down where it couldn't reach him. But still, there was a tightness in his chest that he couldn't quite shake, a primal instinct warning him of the danger that lurked in the shadows.