chapter 30

He rolled his eyes so hard he almost saw the back of his skull. Why was he even surprised at this point?

"In your dreams, Tsar," Eun-jae deadpanned, shifting in his seat as he adjusted his foot in the ice. "Trust me, if I ever wanted to get someone hard, I'd do a hell of a lot more than just stare."

Caesar chuckled, tilting his glass toward him in an almost mock salute. "Is that so?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

But he wasn't here to play word games all night. He had questions—questions that had been nagging at him since the moment they left that godforsaken mansion.

Eun-jae straightened slightly, his gaze sharpening.

"I have some things I need to ask you," he said, voice steady.

Caesar arched an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with a lazy smirk. "Oh? Is this an interrogation now?"

"Maybe," Eun-jae shrugged, his fingers drumming against the table. "Depends on how cooperative you are."

Caesar let out another amused chuckle, the sound rich and dark, before setting his glass down.

"Alright then, agent. I'm all ears."

Eun-jae didn't waste time.

"Tell me who you really are."

The question hung in the air for a moment, charged with weight. Caesar's smirk remained, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something calculating.

Eun-jae leaned forward slightly, his gaze unwavering. "Because from the looks of things, you don't strike me as a normal agent. Let's be real—no agent I know gets an invitation to a high-profile event like that without pulling some serious strings."

He tilted his head, studying Caesar's expression for a crack, a tell, anything.

"And then there's the little matter of the secret passageway—" Eun-jae's lips curved slightly. "You knew about it like the back of your hand. Like you've been through that mansion more times than you can count. That's not something a random agent just happens to know."

He crossed his arms, arching a brow.

"And finally—" he smirked slightly, his voice dipping into something smug. "The way you mingled with the male guests? Seamless. Effortless. As if it's something you do all the time. Makes me wonder just how many rooms you've slipped into at these types of events."

Caesar laughed.

Not a chuckle this time—a full, deep laugh, like he had just heard the most amusing thing in the world. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly.

"Oh, Eun-jae," he mused, still grinning. "You really are something."

Eun-jae didn't flinch. He kept his stare locked on Caesar, waiting.

"So?" he prompted.

Caesar took another slow sip of whiskey before setting the glass down. Then, with a glint of amusement in his gaze, he finally spoke.

"Well then… where should I begin?"

Caesar's voice was silk laced with something darker, something dangerous. He leaned back into his seat, the dim glow of the hotel lamp casting sharp shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp curve of his cheekbones, the almost lazy confidence in his smirk. Like a man who already knew the outcome of this conversation before it even began.

Eun-jae exhaled slowly through his nose, watching him carefully.

"This bastard…"

There was something about Caesar that set his nerves on edge, but not in the way most people did. It wasn't just his unpredictability or his obvious arrogance—it was the way he twisted words, stretched them, shaped them into something that made perfect sense even when you knew it was bullshit. Like he could tell you the sky was green, and within five minutes, you'd find yourself nodding along, convinced you'd been blind this whole time.

Caesar was a man who never let others control the narrative.

And Eun-jae hated that.

"Oh, Eun-jae," Caesar sighed, reaching for his whiskey again. "You're asking all the wrong questions."

Eun-jae's fingers curled slightly, his patience thinning by the second. "Funny. I thought I was being pretty damn direct."

Caesar chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before taking a slow sip. His every move was deliberate, like a man who always had time on his side.

"Direct? Maybe." He tapped a finger against the rim of his glass. "But direct doesn't always mean correct, does it?"

Eun-jae scoffed. "Oh, here we go."

It was just like Caesar to take a simple question and turn it into some philosophical debate. A distraction tactic. Classic.

"Don't dance around the question, Tsar." Eun-jae leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. "Who are you, really?"

Caesar smirked.

"You already know the answer to that."

"No, I know the version of you that you want me to see." Eun-jae's eyes narrowed. "The agent. The smooth-talking, suit-wearing bastard who seems to have connections in places that don't make sense. But then there's the other you—the one who navigated that mansion like it was built for him, the one who got an invitation to an event he shouldn't have had access to. The one who didn't even flinch when things went sideways, like you've lived through worse. So tell me—who the hell am I dealing with?"

Caesar tilted his head slightly, watching him the way a cat watches a mouse right before deciding if it's worth the chase.

"You're sharp, I'll give you that," he mused. "But you're looking at this all wrong, my dear agent."

Eun-jae barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the 'my dear agent' part. It was so damn patronizing, but that was exactly the kind of person Caesar was. Always talking like he was above it all, like everyone else was just a little slower, a little less aware of the grand game being played.

"Enlighten me, then," Eun-jae drawled, crossing his arms.

Caesar smirked, setting his drink down with a soft clink before leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make it feel like a secret.

"You assume my presence at that event was some kind of anomaly. That I don't belong in those circles." His smirk widened. "But what if I told you I do?"

Eun-jae's jaw tensed.

"Bullshit."

Caesar chuckled. "You wound me."

"You don't just 'belong' in places like that. That event wasn't for ordinary agents. That was the kind of room filled with people who have power. People who decide things. People who—"

"Exactly."

Eun-jae paused.

Caesar leaned back again, watching him with an expression that was entirely too smug for someone who had just been accused of being a liar.

"You're smart, Eun-jae. I knew you'd figure it out eventually." He picked up his glass again, taking a slow sip before continuing. "That wasn't just a social gathering. That was a room full of decision-makers. Of course I had an invitation."

Eun-jae's fingers twitched against the table.

"No. No, no, no. That's not how this works."

"You—" Eun-jae's voice was slower now, his mind racing through the implications. "You're not just some agent."

"Never claimed to be."

Eun-jae exhaled sharply.

He hated this.

He hated that Caesar never outright lied—he just let people assume the wrong things.

"Son of a bitch."

"So what are you, then?" Eun-jae pressed.

Caesar simply smiled.

"Let's just say… I'm someone who doesn't like taking orders from people who think they're in control."

Eun-jae's stomach twisted.

There it was. The real answer buried under layers of carefully chosen words.

"You don't take orders," Eun-jae murmured, eyes scanning Caesar's face. "You give them."

Caesar simply clinked his glass against the table. "Now you're getting it."

Eun-jae felt like the floor had just shifted beneath him.

He had assumed Caesar was some rogue agent, maybe a spy with questionable loyalties, but this? This was something else.

"He's not working under someone. He's working for himself."

Which meant—

Caesar had power. Real power. The kind that wasn't granted—it was taken.

Eun-jae swallowed, leaning back in his chair. For the first time, he felt like he had underestimated the man sitting across from him.

And that realization?

It didn't sit well with him. Not at all.

"so what's you auto motive ...what do u want" Eun-jae asked

Eun-jae let Caesar's words settle between them like a dropped knife, sharp and deliberate.

"The blueprints of Seraphim?"

The weight of those words wasn't lost on him. Seraphim wasn't just some classified project—it was a ghost, a myth wrapped in red tape and national security. People whispered about it, but no one had ever gotten close enough to confirm what it truly was.

And yet here Caesar was, lounging in his chair, talking about it like it was just another trinket he wanted to collect.

Eun-jae narrowed his eyes. "You're serious."

Caesar tilted his head slightly, as if the mere question was amusing. "Would I be here if I wasn't?"

"Smartass."

Eun-jae inhaled sharply through his nose, leaning forward. "Tell me something, Tsar—what exactly do you plan to do with those blueprints?"

Caesar simply smiled, a slow, unbothered expression that sent a flicker of irritation down Eun-jae's spine. He hated how composed this bastard always was.

"What do you think?" Caesar replied smoothly, taking another sip of his whiskey.

"Oh, I don't know—maybe frame them in your living room? Auction them off to the highest bidder?" Eun-jae's voice was laced with sarcasm. "Because if you're expecting me to believe that you're doing this out of the kindness of your cold, dead heart, then you're dumber than you look."

Caesar chuckled. "Now, now, Eun-jae. No need to flatter me."

Eun-jae scoffed. "Flatter you? You're out here talking about stealing classified information like it's pocket change, and I'm supposed to be impressed?"

"You should be," Caesar mused. "Not many people can pull off something like this."

"No, because most people actually have a sense of self-preservation."

Caesar leaned forward slightly, his gaze razor-sharp despite the lazy smirk on his lips. "Ah, but that's where we differ, agent. You see, some people are content with playing by the rules. Others…" He let the sentence hang, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the glass. "Others know that the real power lies in breaking them."

Eun-jae's jaw tensed. This was exactly what he hated about Caesar.

It wasn't just his arrogance—it was the fact that he truly believed in the shit he said. He wasn't just playing some role, pretending to be above it all. He genuinely thought that the world was his chessboard, that rules existed only for people who weren't smart enough to bend them.

"Son of a bitch."

"So let me get this straight," Eun-jae drawled, crossing his arms. "You want to steal the blueprints of a highly classified project, one that could single-handedly tip the balance of power, and I'm just supposed to sit here and nod along like this is normal?"

Caesar took another sip of whiskey, completely unbothered. "You don't have to nod, but I do appreciate the company."

Eun-jae resisted the urge to throw the damn glass at his head.

"And what exactly are you planning to do with these blueprints, Tsar?" he pressed. "Sell them to the highest bidder? Hand them over to some shadowy organization? Or maybe—just maybe—you're planning to use them for yourself?"

Caesar chuckled. "My, my. You do think highly of me, don't you?"

"Answer the damn question."

Caesar swirled the liquid in his glass before setting it down, finally meeting Eun-jae's gaze with something colder. Sharper.

"I don't sell what I plan to use."

Eun-jae's stomach tightened. He knew it.

"So he's not just some middleman. He wants them for himself."

That was worse.

Eun-jae exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before giving Caesar a look of pure disbelief.

"Do you even hear yourself? Do you have any idea what you're doing? What kind of destruction that information could cause if it fell into the wrong hands?"

Caesar tilted his head. "Who said my hands are the wrong ones?"

"Oh, my bad," Eun-jae said with a dry laugh, gesturing towards him. "Of course, how silly of me. You, the man who just threw someone out of a window and then ripped his face off for fun—sure, let's trust you with the world's most dangerous blueprints. Sounds perfectly logical."

Caesar smirked. "I like that you think so."

"Oh my god, I hate him," Eun-jae thought.

But he wasn't done yet.

His expression turned more serious, his voice lower. "Are you really willing to sell out your country like that, Tsar?"

For the first time, Caesar stilled.

Eun-jae didn't miss the slight flicker in his eyes—so brief, so well-hidden that most people wouldn't have caught it. But Eun-jae wasn't most people.

"My country?" Caesar repeated, voice eerily soft.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

Eun-jae leaned forward, not breaking eye contact. "That's what this is, isn't it? You're willing to betray everything—everyone—for whatever sick little game you're playing. Do you even have a line, Tsar? Or is everything just a tool for you to use and discard?"

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Then—

Caesar laughed.

It wasn't his usual chuckle, nor was it mocking. It was genuine, low and smooth, like he was actually amused.

"Eun-jae, Eun-jae, Eun-jae," he murmured, shaking his head. "You really do think you have me figured out, don't you?"

Eun-jae frowned.

Caesar leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper.

"Tell me—do you think my 'country' ever gave a damn about me?"

Eun-jae felt something cold settle in his chest.

Caesar smirked. "I'll let you figure out the answer to that one, agent."

And just like that—Eun-jae realized something terrifying.

Caesar wasn't betraying his country.

He had never been on its side to begin with.

"Unraveling the Web"

Eun-jae flicked the small recording device onto the table between them, the tiny object landing with a soft clink against the wood. His eyes didn't leave Caesar's face, watching for the slightest shift in his expression.