chapter 35 18+

Eun-jae's gaze drifted to the moving train, his sharp eyes following its slow, rhythmic glide along the frozen tracks. The Trans-Mongolian Railway. A steel serpent slithering through the night, carving its path through the biting winter cold. It was almost poetic, in a way—almost.

His breath curled in the icy air, a visible reminder that he was still here, still breathing, still in control. But beneath that calm exterior, his mind was working at a rapid, ruthless pace, dissecting every detail Morgan had so graciously provided before he passed out from blood loss.

Kwon Hyunji.

A Korean technician. The man who was supposed to come fix the weapon.

A man smart enough to be trusted with highly classified tech, but dumb enough to agree to this mission in the first place.

And now he was on that train.

Eun-jae tilted his head slightly, studying the way the train's lights flickered against the icy darkness, a ghostly blur of movement against the snowy backdrop.

Hyunji wouldn't be traveling as himself, of course. That would be too easy, and the people pulling the strings behind this whole operation weren't stupid enough to send him out in the open.

According to Morgan, he'd be masquerading as a Vietnamese tourist.

Smart. Not smart enough to fool Eun-jae, but smart.

He could already imagine the man—dressed in casual, forgettable clothes, maybe a beanie to cover his hair, a backpack slung over his shoulder like he was just another traveler drifting through the Trans-Mongolian rails. A tourist blending into the sea of faces, unnoticed, unremarkable.

Eun-jae almost respected the effort.

Almost.

But then—there was the problem.

Morgan didn't even know where the Karpov-Troitsky had stashed the weapon.

That was the real headache.

A technician on the move with no direct connection to the weapon itself? It was like chasing smoke in the wind.

Eun-jae exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders to shake off the frustration threatening to bubble up.

No point in getting annoyed now.

The important thing was—Hyunji knew.

Even if Morgan didn't, even if the higher-ups had kept their secrets locked tight, Hyunji would have to know something. The location, the security, the access codes, something.

And Eun-jae?

Eun-jae would make sure he found out.

It didn't matter how cautious they thought they were being.

It didn't matter if Hyunji thought he was untouchable, hidden under layers of secrecy and forged identities.

It didn't matter if the Karpov-Troitsky thought they could play their games and keep their little toy out of reach.

Because Eun-jae was already on the hunt.

And he never left his prey alone for long.

Eun-jae wanted to sleep. Desperately. Painfully. Soul-crushingly.

But life? Life had other plans.

Because right next to him, in this tiny, suffocating, godforsaken train cabin, Caesar—the walking embodiment of arrogance, a human sin generator, a man who had clearly never heard of the concept of personal boundaries—was currently balls deep in one of the female omegas who worked on the train.

And not just quietly. Oh, no. That would be too merciful.

This? This was a full-blown, earth-shattering, walls-rattling, bed-breaking porno being acted out in real-time.

The moans. The gasps. The skin-slapping. The bed creaking like it was fighting for its life.

Eun-jae clenched his jaw so tight his molars threatened to crack.

"Haaahhh… uaaahhh… nghhh… s-sooo big~"

The omega gasped dramatically, throwing her head back as she bounced on Caesar's lap like she was auditioning for a mechanical bull competition.

"Oh my fucking god," Eun-jae thought, his eye twitching violently.

He exhaled slowly through his nose. Inhale. Exhale. Think happy thoughts.

"Ignore it. Ignore it. Maybe they'll be done in five minutes."

Five minutes passed. They were still going.

"This is a goddamn endurance race."

Eun-jae took a pillow and slammed it over his ears, hoping—praying—it would drown out the godforsaken symphony of sin happening right next to him.

"Aaaahhh! Nnghh! M-more! More!"

The train bed screamed in agony, creaking so hard Eun-jae was convinced it was going to snap in half.

"I am in hell. I have done nothing to deserve this, and yet, here I am."

He groaned under his breath. Alright. Focus. Distraction. Yes. Distraction.

"Think of something else."

He squeezed his eyes shut and, in his head, started humming.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star… how I wonder what you a—"

"AAAHH! NNGHH! OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA—"

Eun-jae snapped.

The pillow flew across the room as he launched himself upright, turning to glare at them with all the fiery hatred of a man on the verge of committing homicide.

Caesar, mid-thrust, glanced sideways at him.

And this absolute fucking menace of a man had the audacity to smirk.

FUCKING. SMIRK.

Like he was enjoying this. Like this was some hilarious inside joke. Like he wasn't currently ruining Eun-jae's life with his unholy bedroom activities.

And because Caesar was the absolute worst kind of bastard, he grabbed the omega's waist tighter and started moving even faster.

The bed slammed against the wall. The moans grew louder. The slaps of skin hitting skin became deafening.

Eun-jae's soul detached from his body.

He was in hell. He was actually in hell.

And then—then, the unthinkable happened.

Caesar's face changed.

His brows furrowed, his jaw tightened, his breathing got heavier—

His entire expression contorted into something different.

Something unfamiliar.

Eun-jae squinted.

"Wait. Hold on. Is that—"

His brain stalled.

"Is… is that what he looks like when he's about to nut?"

His mouth parted slightly.

"Huh. Interesting."

But then—oh, no. Oh, no no no.

Because that was when he saw it.

For the first time.

The thing.

The beast.

His gaze lowered—and what he witnessed was not normal.

It wasn't human.

It was a fucking weapon.

A lethal, goddamn biological hazard.

Something that needed a permit to exist.

His brain short-circuited.

His entire life flashed before his eyes.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK."

"HOW—HOW DID SHE TAKE THAT? HOW IS SHE STILL FUNCTIONING?!"

His gaze snapped back to the omega, who was still very much alive, breathing, and seemingly enjoying herself.

Which made no goddamn sense.

"She should be dead. That thing should've split her in half. That is NOT a normal size. That is NOT okay. That is a crime. A war crime."

His eyes darted back to Caesar's sheer, monstrous, horrifying, abomination of a size.

His hands clenched into fists.

"That's not a dick. That's a fucking lightsaber."

A horrible, soul-destroying realization slammed into him like a train.

"If it was me…"

His pupils dilated.

"I'd be dead."

Like. Actually dead.

Eun-jae visibly shuddered. He took a step back. Another step. Then another.

"I refuse to be involved in this madness."

Eun-jae inhaled sharply, then immediately regretted it because the room reeked of sex.

He needed to leave. Immediately.

By the time Caesar waltzed back into the room, looking refreshed and smug as ever, Eun-jae had half a mind to throw him out of the moving train.

The bastard smelled expensive. Expensive soap, fresh laundry, and pure arrogance, as if he'd been bathing in the tears of his enemies. His blonde hair was still damp, strands falling messily over his forehead, and the sight of his annoyingly perfect face only made Eun-jae's already sour mood plummet further.

But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Eun-jae was trembling.

Not from fear, not from exhaustion, but from pure, goddamn cold.

The window beside him was wide open, allowing the bitter winter air to seep into his bones, slicing through his clothes like a thousand tiny blades. His arms were wrapped tightly around himself, his fingers digging into his sleeves as his body shuddered uncontrollably.

And, of course, Caesar noticed.

The bastard always noticed.

Leaning lazily against the doorframe, Caesar cocked his head, his expression amused yet exasperated.

"Do you want to freeze yourself to death?" he asked, raising a brow.

Eun-jae's head snapped toward him, his glare sharp enough to kill a lesser man.

"Shut up."

He marched over to the window and slammed it shut, hard enough to make the glass tremble.

Caesar chuckled, completely unbothered, his lips curling into a smirk as he watched him. There was something oddly amusing about seeing Eun-jae flustered—not that he'd ever admit it.

"You know, I wasn't expecting you to just sit there and watch," he said, stretching his arms. His tone was casual, almost teasing. "I thought you'd leave so I could have some privacy…"

Eun-jae scoffed, rolling his eyes so hard he probably glimpsed another dimension.

"Why should I? I just got to experience porn premium for free."

He ran a hand through his hair, gathering the long strands with practiced ease, before securing them into a messy bun.

Caesar blinked.

Then smirked.

"Porn premium." He let out a low chuckle. "Wow."

But his amusement was short-lived.

Because the moment Eun-jae's fingers finished tying his hair up, something in Caesar's gaze shifted.

His smirk lingered, but his eyes—those sharp, predatory blue eyes—lowered slightly, sweeping over Eun-jae's face, then his exposed neck, the curve of his jaw, the slight dip of his collarbones peeking from the loose neckline of his shirt.

And before he could even think, before his own brain could filter his words, the next thing that left his mouth was—

"You look hot when you tie your hair up."

Eun-jae froze.

Caesar tilted his head, watching his reaction closely. Then, with a smirk so lazy it bordered on sinful, he added, voice lower now, laced with amusement and something else entirely—

"It makes me think you're about to give me a blowjob."

Silence.

A dangerous, loaded silence.

Eun-jae's fingers stilled in his hair. His shoulders tensed. His expression remained unreadable, but something about the way he slowly—painfully slowly—turned to face Caesar should have been classified as a national threat.

His eye twitched.

And then, he smiled.

A very sweet. Very, very deadly smile.

"In your dreams, pervert." His voice was razor-sharp, dripping with venom.

Caesar, of course, didn't look the least bit fazed.

In fact, his smirk only widened.

"You're one difficult beta, you know that?" he mused, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe, watching Eun-jae like a predator toying with its prey. "You should've been an omega. That way, when I release my pheromones, you'd be crawling to me, begging for some fucking."

Oh.

Oh.

This motherf—

Eun-jae inhaled. Deeply. Through his nose.

And then exhaled. Slowly. Like he was holding back the overwhelming urge to commit homicide.

"I beg your fucking pardon?"

Begging? Begging?

This arrogant, overgrown, genetically privileged son of a bitch really thought he'd be on his knees, whimpering, begging, drooling like some desperate, needy mess?

Over his damn pheromones?

Eun-jae exhaled again, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Then, suddenly—he took a step closer.

Caesar raised a brow, his amusement unchanging, but his posture subtly stiffened.

Eun-jae closed the distance, his breath now ghosting against the taller man's jaw, his voice dropping into a near-whisper, so low, so dangerously soft, that it could almost be mistaken for something intimate.

"If I were an omega," Eun-jae purred, his tone mockingly sweet, "you'd be dead in a ditch, and I'd be drinking celebratory wine over your corpse."

Caesar blinked.

Then let out a low, deep laugh.

"Damn. That was kind of hot."

Eun-jae scowled.

Of course. Of fucking course.

Eun-jae was already mentally exhausted.

Not just from the godforsaken train ride, not just from the cold air that had nearly turned him into an icicle, and certainly not just from the premium-rated performance Caesar had so graciously subjected him to earlier.

No.

The exhaustion came from one single, undeniable fact:

Caesar talked too damn much.

Every time the blonde opened his mouth, Eun-jae felt like his lifespan was being trimmed down one painful second at a time. It was like talking to an overconfident golden retriever who had just discovered dirty talk and decided to weaponize it against society.

So when Eun-jae stretched lazily, got up from his seat, and reached for his bag on the overhead compartment, he should have expected it. He should have known that Caesar was going to open his mouth and say some dumbass thing that would make Eun-jae wish he had the power to mute people in real life.

And yet—

"I'm sure someone like you has over a thousand body counts."

What.

Eun-jae blinked.

Then slowly turned his head, eyebrow arching so high it practically hit his hairline.

"Excuse me?"