Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Trap Tightens

Dan-Bi had faced countless threats before.

But this—

This was a slow, calculated hunt.

In the days following the council meeting, the ministers moved with ruthless precision.

First, his access to documents was restricted.

Not openly—no, they were far too clever for that. Instead, clerks delayed requests, archives were mysteriously "misplaced," and paperwork took twice as long to process.

Second, whispers spread.

Dan-Bi's name began slipping through the halls in hushed conversations. Small rumors—subtle at first, but building. Speculation about his origins. His past. How little was actually known about him.

And then—

They struck.

Dan-Bi arrived at the scholars' quarters one evening, only to find two royal guards waiting at the entrance.

He immediately knew.

"You are to be questioned," one guard stated, his expression unreadable. "By order of the Grand Chancellor."

The Grand Chancellor.

One of the most powerful men in court.

A known ally of the Second Queen.

A man who had no love for anyone who stood between him and greater influence over the throne.

Dan-Bi exhaled slowly, keeping his face composed.

He had expected this.

But not this soon.

The guards stepped aside, motioning for him to follow.

Dan-Bi adjusted his sleeves, his fingers briefly grazing the hidden blade tucked within his robes. A reminder—he was never truly unarmed.

Then, with quiet confidence, he walked forward.

---

The Grand Chancellor's chamber

The moment Dan-Bi stepped inside, he felt it.

The weight of an ambush.

Ministers lined the room, seated in high-backed chairs, their expressions carefully neutral.

But their eyes—

Their eyes were waiting for him to fall.

At the center of it all, the Grand Chancellor sat like a spider in its web.

"Scholar Dan-Bi," he greeted smoothly. "Thank you for coming."

Dan-Bi gave a respectful bow. "I serve the court, Chancellor. How may I be of assistance?"

The chancellor smiled.

Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, a scroll was placed on the table before him.

Unrolled.

Exposed.

Dan-Bi's gaze flickered to it, scanning the text—

And immediately understood.

They were fabricating evidence.

A record of treasonous correspondence.

False messages—ones he had never written—claiming loyalty to a foreign power.

A trap.

A well-prepared, deadly trap.

He lifted his gaze to the Grand Chancellor, his expression giving nothing away.

The man smiled wider.

"Care to explain, Scholar?"

Silence.

Then—

Dan-Bi chuckled.

Soft. Almost amused.

The ministers stiffened at the unexpected reaction.

"Ah," Dan-Bi mused, stepping closer. "So this is what has been keeping the court so busy lately." He reached out, trailing a careful finger over the parchment. "Forgive me, Chancellor, but I had assumed state affairs required more… pressing concerns than an insignificant scholar such as myself."

The Grand Chancellor's smile didn't waver.

But his fingers tensed.

A small tell.

Dan-Bi caught it instantly.

Good.

He was under their skin now.

The chancellor exhaled slowly, leaning forward. "This is not a minor concern, Scholar Dan-Bi. The integrity of the court is at stake."

Dan-Bi tilted his head. "Then surely, you must have proof beyond mere ink on a page."

The room stilled.

The ministers exchanged glances.

Dan-Bi pressed on.

"For instance…" He traced a line of text deliberately. "Surely, you have a witness who saw me writing this?" He glanced up, voice mild. "Or perhaps the original drafts of these letters, penned in my own hand?"

Silence.

Dan-Bi smiled.

They had rushed this.

Eager to snare him, they had failed to cover every detail.

A mistake.

The Grand Chancellor's expression didn't falter, but Dan-Bi could see it—

The faintest flicker of irritation.

He had forced them onto the defensive.

Good.

But it wasn't over yet.

Because as he stood there, meeting the eyes of his enemies—

Dan-Bi knew.

This was only the beginning.