chapter 28

A sudden, ear-piercing screech tore through his earpiece.

A high-pitched, shrill noise—sharp enough to stab through his skull like a thousand needles.

"Ugh—what the f—!"

Pain exploded in his head, sending a violent wave of dizziness crashing into him. His vision wavered for a split second, the world around him tilting unnaturally like he was standing on the deck of a sinking ship.

His knees nearly buckled.

Instinct kicked in—his fingers yanked the device from his ear and hurled it across the room without hesitation. The small piece of tech hit the wall with a sharp clink before dropping to the floor like dead weight.

Eun-jae staggered, one hand bracing against the nearest surface as he tried to shake off the nausea that followed. A low, irritated groan rumbled from his throat as he pushed himself upright, his other hand instinctively rubbing at his ear as if that would somehow soothe the lingering pain.

"Oh, hell no. That was working perfectly fine a second ago, so how the fuck—"

His thoughts raced.

Sabotage? Interference? A malfunction?

Or worse—

That last thought made something cold crawl down his spine.

Eun-jae straightened fully, jaw tightening as he stared down at the discarded earpiece. His ears were still ringing, an annoying static hum lingering in the back of his mind like a ghost of the screeching sound that had just tried to burst his eardrums.

"Okay, great. Now my only lifeline to that nosy bastard sitting in the CCTV room is fried. Just fantastic. Love that for me."

He sucked in a slow breath, forcing himself to refocus.

The timing was too damn convenient. The second he got valuable intel—boom, his comms got fried? Yeah, no. That wasn't a coincidence.

Which meant he had just been compromised.

His eyes darted around the dimly lit hallway, scanning for movement.

Was someone watching him? Did they know he was here?

Every muscle in his body tensed, instincts screaming at him to move.

There was a moment—just a fleeting one—where Eun-jae thought he might actually get out of this mess alive.

Just a few more careful steps. Just a little more patience. He could already imagine it—slinking through the darkened corridors, slipping past the guards, out into the open night air where he could breathe freely again. No more shitty surveillance earpiece screaming in his ears. No more sweat-soaked clothes clinging to his back. No more bullets flying at his head.

Freedom was right there.

And then—

"There has been an intruder… go check it."

Eun-jae froze.

His breath caught in his throat.

Shit.

The voice was sharp, precise, and too damn familiar. It was the kind of voice that didn't tolerate mistakes, that didn't deal in second chances. His entire body tensed on instinct, muscles coiling as though preparing for a fight.

"Is that Bes?"

His heart pounded harder. That would explain why his gut had been screaming at him for the last five minutes. Bes wasn't some low-ranking errand boy—if Bes was here, that meant this wasn't just some random shady operation.

This was big.

This was dangerous.

And worst of all?

This was personal.

His mind raced, scrambling through all the possible ways this could go south. Spoiler alert: there were too many.

Meanwhile, outside, the guards were already moving.

"Sir, let's guide you downstairs… before any disaster happens."

"Yeah, how about no?" Eun-jae thought dryly.

If they were moving their VIP, that meant they knew something was wrong. And if they knew something was wrong, that meant they'd be extra cautious.

It also meant Eun-jae was out of time.

The guard closest to him had to go.

With lightning-fast precision, Eun-jae struck—a swift, silent movement that sent the man crumpling to the ground in an instant. He didn't even have time to make a sound.

"Perfect."

But before Eun-jae could pat himself on the back, another guard rounded the corner.

"Hey! You okay?"

Eun-jae barely had time to react.

Click.

BANG.

One shot. Clean. Precise. The guard jerked before collapsing, blood pooling beneath him.

"THERE IS AN INTRUDER!"

And there goes the element of surprise.

Eun-jae's mind switched gears immediately. New priority: get the hell out of here.

He didn't think—he ran.

The sound of boots thundered behind him, voices shouting orders.

"Move. Move. MOVE."

Eun-jae threw himself into the nearest room, slamming the door shut behind him just as gunfire exploded outside.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Bullets ripped through the wood, splinters flying everywhere.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

His eyes scanned the room, desperate for anything—an escape route, a hiding spot, a miracle.

The place was empty. No windows. No vents. Just a massive bookshelf dominating one side of the wall.

He was trapped.

"Hey! Open up!"

"Yeah, sure, give me one second while I roll out a red carpet and serve you tea," he thought sarcastically, shoving anything he could against the door—chairs, a table, a lamp—anything to slow them down.

His eyes darted around, searching for another way out—anything.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something.

A photo.

A group of big-shot men, standing together, but half of the image was ripped away—as if someone had deliberately torn it.

His instincts screamed at him.

This was important.

He didn't know why. Not yet. But his gut told him to take it, so he did. He snatched the photo off the table, shoving it deep into his pocket.

Then—

The first bang.

A bullet punched through the door, wood splintering.

Then another. And another.

"Fucking hell, they don't play around."

More bullets tore through the door, turning it into Swiss cheese.

And Eun-jae—who, at this point, was running out of both time and luck—was still searching for a way out.

Then—

He smelled it.

That scent.

His body froze.

A split second later—

The bookshelf behind him moved.

A soft, slow creak.

A hidden passage.

Before he could react—

Hands shot out.

Grabbed him.

Pulled him in.

The entrance snapped shut behind him.

Eun-jae's body jerked on instinct, twisting to fight back—

But then—

That scent.

Musky. Sharp. Dangerously intoxicating.

His brain short-circuited.

His body tensed, muscles locking into place.

The realization slammed into him like a truck.

"This phero—wait. CAESAR?!"

Oh, fuck.

"So there's a secret passage here, huh?"

Eun-jae's thoughts dripped with sarcasm as he took in his surroundings. The dimly lit tunnel stretched ahead of him, narrow and suffocating, the damp scent of rotting wood and old stone clinging to the air. Each step he took echoed against the walls, the sound bouncing back at him like a ghost of his own presence. He barely had time to process how the hell he'd even ended up here—one moment he was dodging bullets, and the next, a hidden passage had swallowed him whole.

And the culprit?

Caesar.

The man moved ahead of him, his posture relaxed, almost leisurely, as if he wasn't leading them both through a dark, unknown tunnel with danger snapping at their heels. The faint glow from the flickering overhead bulbs cast strange shadows across his back, making him look even more unsettling than he already was. Eun-jae couldn't help but scoff internally—of course, this bastard knew about a hidden escape route. Of course.

"How many times has he used this before?" The thought sent an uneasy chill down Eun-jae's spine, but he shoved it aside. He didn't have time for paranoia—not when there were at least a dozen guards swarming the building above them, ready to shoot him on sight.

His grip on his gun tightened. Just because Caesar had saved his ass didn't mean he trusted him. If anything, he trusted him less now.

The tunnel sloped upward slightly, and they reached a narrow wooden staircase. The air grew heavier, dust motes swirling under the weak light. It felt old, ancient even, as if it hadn't been used in years. Yet Caesar navigated it like he knew every step by heart.

Eun-jae's instincts prickled with suspicion.

"How the hell does he know this place so well?"

Before he could voice his thoughts, Caesar stopped at the top of the staircase, standing in front of what looked like a trapdoor made of thick, reinforced wood. He paused, tilting his head slightly, as if listening for something beyond it.

Eun-jae stiffened. That was never a good sign.

The silence stretched.

Then—

Caesar turned his head and looked at him.

Just a flick of his gaze. A silent warning.

Eun-jae knew that look. It was the kind of look you gave someone right before shit hit the fan.

His body tensed. His fingers curled instinctively around his gun, raising it slightly as his heart slammed against his ribs.

Caesar reached for the trapdoor.

He lifted it.

And then—

Gunfire.

Loud, deafening, close.

Eun-jae barely had time to react before bullets ripped through the air, shattering the fragile silence. His ears rang from the sheer force of the shots.

The man above them was firing blindly—right at Caesar.

Eun-jae's breath hitched. His mind screamed at him to take cover, to move, to do something—

But then, in the middle of the chaos, he heard something that made his blood turn cold.

Laughter.

Low, quiet, amused.

Caesar chuckled.

Like this was funny.

Like he wasn't the one being shot at.

Before Eun-jae could even process what the hell was happening, Caesar moved.

Fast.

Too fast.

The man barely had time to register the shift before Caesar lunged.

And then—

The sound.

A sickening, wet, tearing sound that made Eun-jae's stomach drop.

The man screamed—a horrific, strangled wail as Caesar's hands found his face.

And ripped it apart.

Bare hands. No hesitation. No mercy.

Blood splattered onto the floor, warm and fresh, the metallic scent instantly filling the space. The man convulsed, his body twitching as his hands scrambled weakly at Caesar's arms—futile, useless.

Eun-jae stood there, frozen, watching in horrified disbelief.

"Oh my God," he muttered, immediately turning his head away.

His stomach twisted violently.

He had seen people die before. Had seen them executed, tortured, shot point-blank without so much as a flinch.

But this?

This was something else.

This was monstrous.

Caesar didn't even look fazed.

Hell, he looked bored.

Like he had done this a hundred times before. Like it meant nothing to him.

Without a single care, he kicked the man's corpse.

The body went flying, crashing through the nearby window with a sickening crack.

Eun-jae barely heard the dull thud as it hit the ground outside.

All he could hear was the roaring in his head.

The warning bells screaming at him.

His grip on his gun tightened as he dared to glance at Caesar, who was now wiping his bloodied hands on his shirt, unfazed, detached—like he had just finished cleaning up a minor mess.

And that was when Eun-jae realized—

He had just stepped into a nightmare.

"What the hell, Tsar?!" Eun-jae snapped, barely able to keep his voice down as he glared at Caesar like he had truly lost his mind. His pulse was still racing, his breath coming in uneven bursts as he tried to process what the absolute fuck had just happened.

Just throwing the guy out the window? Fine. He could live with that. At this point, he'd seen enough shit that a casual defenestration didn't exactly make him blink anymore. But the way Caesar had torn into that man's face—like it was nothing, like it was as easy as peeling an orange—that was something else. That was a whole new level of fucked up.

Eun-jae felt his stomach twist, a deep, unsettled nausea rolling through him as he tried to shake off the image from his mind. But it was already burned there, seared into his memory—the way the flesh peeled, the wet sound of skin separating from bone, the gurgling noise the guy had made as his life ended right there in Caesar's hands. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, and clenched his jaw.

"That's… that's—"

"Scary?"

Caesar's voice was calm. Unbothered. Like they were discussing the fucking weather instead of mutilation.