chapter 58

Eun-jae stared at the glowing screen of his phone, his sharp eyes scanning the intricate map displayed before him. A small, pulsing dot marked his current position, surrounded by angular lines forming the blueprint of the grand mansion.

A deep breath filled his lungs before he exhaled slowly, his thumb hovering over the screen. His suspicions had been correct—there were hidden spaces within the estate. Spaces that shouldn't exist.

"The areas where Voron is presumed to be are..."

His gaze flicked over the highlighted locations.

The basement cellar. A classic place to hide something. Dark, damp, and out of sight.

The attic in the spire. An unusual choice. Most people forgot attics even existed, making it a perfect hiding spot.

Behind the second bookshelf in the study room. His fingers tightened around the device. A concealed passage? It seemed almost cliché, yet incredibly effective.

And then—one final location.

A secret hidden area within Alexei's bedroom.

Eun-jae's breath hitched slightly. That was the most intriguing of them all. Why would Alexei, of all people, have a hidden space in his private quarters? What was he concealing?

His mind whirred with possibilities, but one thing was clear. If Voron was hidden somewhere within these walls, Eun-jae was going to find it.

Eun-jae pressed a finger against his earpiece, activating the hidden communication line. His sharp eyes flicked to the screen of his phone, where the intricate blueprint of the mansion glowed in the dim light.

"Hey, Caesar. Are you listening?" His voice was calm but firm, laced with quiet authority. He didn't like repeating himself.

Adjusting the cuff of his tailored suit, he scanned the corridors ahead, every exit, every possible escape route mapped out in his mind.

"I just sent the floor plan of the mansion. Check it out."

His gaze darkened as he studied the highlighted points of interest. There were hidden rooms, spaces that shouldn't exist—secrets woven into the very walls of this place.

And somewhere within them, the truth he sought.

Eun-jae clicked the hidden switch on the lamp, his sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit room as the soft hum of electricity flickered through the air. The golden glow from the light cast long shadows against the polished wood, giving the place an eerie warmth that didn't match the tension in his body.

"Looks like we'll have to search and investigate each targeted area," he murmured, voice even. "One by one. Room by room."

He heard the faint crackle of the earpiece before the familiar voice responded, laced with its usual edge of amusement.

"I'll take the study room," Caesar's voice was low and composed, almost casual. "The security is practically tight there… seems like it could be interesting."

Eun-jae exhaled slowly, his fingers flexing at his side. He didn't like unnecessary bloodshed, and with Caesar involved, things could escalate if left unchecked.

"Don't kill any innocent people," he said firmly.

A quiet chuckle echoed in his ear.

"It's a pain in the ass to clean up your mess afterwards."

Eun-jae's fingers curled around the ornate golden handle, the cold metal pressing into his palm as he turned it with deliberate slowness. The soft click of the lock disengaging echoed in the silent corridor, blending with the quiet hum of his own breath.

"Hah," he exhaled, a wry smirk tugging at his lips. "I've never laid my hands on an innocent person before."

The weight of those words settled over him, though whether he meant them as reassurance or justification, even he wasn't sure. His grip tightened ever so slightly.

"I'm just legitimately trying to use self-defense to protect myself."

The thought felt hollow, like an excuse whispered to a conscience he had long since learned to ignore.

From behind him, a low scoff broke the tension.

"'Legitimate' isn't a word meant for you to use… you bastard."

Eun-jae didn't turn around. He simply pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Eun-jae adjusted the cuff of his suit, the fabric smooth beneath his fingers as he exhaled a quiet breath. His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable as he tilted his head slightly, his hand resting near his ear in a casual yet deliberate gesture.

"Well then..." His voice was low, steady, yet edged with a quiet confidence. "I'll start with the cellar."

The corners of his lips barely lifted in what could have been amusement—or perhaps something colder. His gaze shifted, as if weighing the moment before adding, "Good luck."

Eun-jae tilted his head, eyes fixed on the ventilation fan overhead. The dim light of the room cast sharp shadows across the ceiling, highlighting the fine layer of dust clinging stubbornly to the edges of the metal grate. His smirk deepened. Good. No one had tampered with it. That meant it was still a viable entry point—or at the very least, an information hub.

Stepping forward, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flashlight. A single flick of his thumb sent a thin beam of light cutting through the gloom, illuminating the contours of the vent. His sharp gaze traced the faint scratches on the screws—factory placement. No signs of forceful removal, no fingerprints smudging the metal, no specks of fresh dust displaced from recent interference. It had been untouched for a while, which worked perfectly to his advantage.

"The vents from every room in this mansion are interconnected."

He recalled the blueprint he had spent hours memorizing, his mind automatically pulling up the details. The mansion's ventilation system wasn't just a series of air passages—it was an entire network snaking through the building, linking rooms together like a hidden highway. Most modern estates had their vents compartmentalized for security reasons, ensuring that even if someone tried sneaking through, they'd hit a dead end.

But this place was old. And old meant vulnerable.

A subtle weakness, one Alexei and his men had likely overlooked.

Eun-jae's fingers drummed lightly against the wooden desk beside him as his mind raced through the possibilities. Could someone use this system for movement? Unlikely, unless they were small or desperate. The shafts were narrow, built more for airflow than for human passage. But as an audio channel? A discreet surveillance method? That was a different story.

"If there's a microphone planted somewhere in the system, someone could be listening in on everything."

That thought sent a slow wave of anticipation through him. If he could tap into it first, he'd have an advantage—a way to intercept conversations, monitor movements, maybe even locate Voron without ever stepping into a trap. The question was, had Alexei thought of that? Or was this just another relic of an outdated security system, left unchecked and ignored?

His grip tightened around the flashlight as he slowly exhaled. He needed to test it. See if sound traveled through these vents the way he suspected.

Eun-jae glanced toward the door, then back to the vent. His lips curled into a small, knowing smirk.

"Let's see how deep this rabbit hole goes."

Eun-jae rolled his shoulders back, his muscles tensing with anticipation as he directed his gaze back to the vent. His fingers flexed at his sides before he let out a quiet breath. He had climbed through tighter spaces before—this wouldn't be any different. But the question remained: would it hold his weight?

He stepped onto the cool tiled floor of the bathroom, his sharp eyes scanning the room for anything useful. His attention landed on the sleek marble countertop. It was sturdy enough. Without hesitation, he hoisted himself onto it, his movements fluid and precise. The faint clink of his belt buckle against the stone was the only sound in the otherwise silent space.

Now positioned beneath the vent, he reached up, brushing his fingers against the cool metal. Dust clung to his skin, and a small smirk tugged at his lips. No one's touched this in years. That was good. It meant he wasn't following someone else's tracks—it meant he was ahead of them.

Pulling a compact screwdriver from his pocket, he got to work on the screws, moving with practiced ease. Each twist of his wrist loosened the metal plate bit by bit, until finally, with a soft creak, the vent cover came free. He caught it before it could clatter to the ground, lowering it carefully to the side.

A gust of stale air rushed out, carrying with it the scent of aged wood, metal, and something faintly musty. Perfect. He angled his flashlight into the shaft, taking in the narrow space before him. The duct was just wide enough for him to squeeze through if he angled his body correctly, but there wouldn't be much room for movement. That was fine. He wasn't looking for comfort—he was looking for answers.

Eun-jae took one last glance at the door before pushing himself up, his forearms bracing against the edges of the vent as he maneuvered his body inside. The metal was cold beneath his palms, smooth yet unforgiving. His breath was steady as he adjusted his weight, pulling himself forward with slow, measured movements.

The inside of the shaft was tighter than he anticipated, the walls pressing in around him as he crawled forward. The only sound was the faint scrape of fabric against metal and the rhythmic beat of his own breath. His mind stayed sharp, focused on the blueprint he had memorized. If he was right, this ventilation system would lead him straight to his first target—the cellar.

"Just a little further," he muttered under his breath.

The air inside the duct was thin, making each inhale slightly strained, but he ignored the discomfort. He had been in worse situations. He had survived tighter spaces. His body moved instinctively, muscles shifting as he propelled himself forward inch by inch.

Then—he heard it.

A voice.

Faint. Muffled. But unmistakably close.

Eun-jae froze, his body going rigid as he strained to listen. The sound carried through the ventilation system like a whisper through the dark, distorted but present. Someone was speaking below him. He angled his head toward the nearest vent opening, his heartbeat steady but his mind racing.

Who's down there?

Eun-jae's breath hitched as he pressed himself flat against the cold metal, every muscle in his body tensed like a coiled spring. Below him, the guards stood just outside his room, their voices a low murmur that sent a fresh wave of adrenaline surging through his veins.

"Shit, I have to be careful," he thought, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from exhaling too loudly. He knew one wrong move could mean the end of everything.

Slowly, he tilted his wrist to glance at the tracker in his hand. The small device blinked in the dim light, indicating that he was close—so damn close. His target was just ahead, barely a few meters away. If he could just keep moving without making a sound—

Then—

Thud.

His elbow knocked against the metal. The sharp, echoing sound reverberated through the ventilation shaft like a gunshot in the silence.

His breath caught in his throat.

Below him, the guards went rigid.

"Did you hear that?" one of them asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

"What noise?" the other replied, though there was a hint of unease creeping into his tone.

"There's something in there," the first guard insisted, his instincts sharper than Eun-jae would have liked.

Eun-jae clenched his teeth, sweat forming at the nape of his neck as he willed himself not to move, not even to breathe. He pressed his body further into the narrow metal passage, his limbs starting to ache from the strain of keeping still.

Then—BANG.

The sudden impact sent a violent shudder through the vent as the guard below struck the shaft with his gun. The vibrations traveled up through the metal, rattling Eun-jae's bones, making his already precarious position even more unstable.

"Shit, shit, shit," he cursed internally, his pulse hammering against his ribs.

He could feel a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face, his fingers gripping the edges of the vent so hard his knuckles turned white. If they hit the vent one more time, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his balance.

"Come on, just leave already."

Another tense moment passed.

"Come on, nothing is there. Let's go," one of the guards finally said, his voice laced with irritation.

Eun-jae listened intently as their heavy boots scraped against the floor, the sound fading as they walked away.

He let out a slow, measured breath, his body still rigid with tension.

"That was too close."

But his relief was short-lived.

His fingers, slick with sweat, slipped against the smooth metal. His body wavered as his muscles trembled from the strain, and before he could catch himself—

THUD.

The air was forced from his lungs as he crashed down inside the vent, his entire body jolting upon impact. He barely managed to stifle a groan as the metal beneath him groaned from the force of his fall. His hands scrambled to grip something, anything, to stop his descent, but the shaft was too narrow, too unforgiving.

He landed awkwardly on his side, his shoulder slamming against the vent wall. Pain flared through his body, a dull ache spreading through his ribs. His breathing was ragged, his mind scrambling to assess the damage.

"Shit. That hurt."