Chapter 78;- The Trap Set For Siwan

The tension in the air felt thick enough to cut through with a knife. Ji-hoon stood in the darkened corner of the backstage area, his fingers gripping the edge of the stage curtain with a sense of urgency that matched the rapid beating of his heart. He had been waiting for this moment for far too long—the moment when the plan he had carefully laid out would finally come to fruition. And yet, despite the years of torment, the doubts still lingered, whispering in the back of his mind like an uninvited guest.

The trap was set. He could feel it in his bones.

Everything had been meticulously arranged. The timing, the place, the people—it had all been calculated to perfection. Si-wan had no idea what was coming. Ji-hoon had made sure of that. He had spent weeks, months even, weaving the threads of this plan, and now, it was about to unfold.

But as he stood there, his mind shifted uneasily. Was it truly enough? Would it be enough? Could he really pull this off? Could he truly bring himself to do what needed to be done, or would he falter when the moment arrived?

The sound of footsteps approaching jerked Ji-hoon out of his spiraling thoughts. His grip on the curtain tightened, and his pulse quickened. The footsteps stopped just beyond the curtain, and Ji-hoon could almost feel Si-wan's presence—his arrogance, his calculated calm—radiating through the space. He was close, closer than ever before, and for the first time in a long time, Ji-hoon didn't feel the comforting blanket of silence surrounding him. Instead, the silence pressed in, suffocating him, waiting.

His hands were trembling slightly, but he fought to keep his composure. The plan was almost complete. The final piece of the puzzle had been put in place, and now all that was left was the confrontation. The confrontation that would change everything.

Ji-hoon closed his eyes for a moment, listening intently to the world around him. He could hear the faint creaking of the stage as someone moved, the soft rustling of the fabric of the curtain brushing against his fingers. And then, he heard it—the sound that had haunted him for so long. The quiet breath of someone standing too close, someone who thought they were untouchable, someone who had no idea what was coming.

Si-wan.

Ji-hoon's heart skipped a beat as he felt the presence just beyond the curtain. He didn't need to see him to know it was him. He could feel the cold, calculating energy that Si-wan exuded, the aura of someone who thought they could control everything, even the lives of others.

The quiet tension stretched thin, and Ji-hoon's grip on the curtain tightened further. His breaths became shallow as he focused on the moment, on the trap that was now closing in around them both.

"Si-wan," Ji-hoon's voice was a low murmur, but it cut through the space between them like a blade. He stepped out from the shadows, the cane in his hand steady but his heart racing.

Si-wan didn't flinch, didn't even seem surprised to see Ji-hoon standing there. Instead, his lips curled into a faint, mocking smile, his eyes gleaming with the kind of arrogance that had always irritated Ji-hoon. "Ah, Ji-hoon. I was wondering when you'd show up. Did you finally get tired of hiding in the dark?"

The words stung, but Ji-hoon didn't react. He couldn't afford to. This wasn't about words anymore; this was about action. He had come too far to back out now.

"You think you can just do whatever you want and get away with it, don't you?" Ji-hoon's voice was steady, though the anger simmering beneath the surface was impossible to hide. His grip on the cane tightened. "But you can't, Si-wan. You don't control everything."

Si-wan's smile faltered for the briefest moment before returning with an edge of amusement. "You really think you've got a chance, don't you?" His voice dripped with condescension. "What is this, Ji-hoon? Another desperate attempt to seek revenge? How pathetic."

Ji-hoon's fingers twitched. The words cut deep, but he couldn't let himself get distracted. He had planned for this. He had prepared for this. The trap was set. All he had to do was pull the trigger.

Without warning, Ji-hoon stepped forward, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as he moved with a purposeful, calculated stride. Si-wan's eyes followed him, and Ji-hoon could sense the shift in the air—the realization that things were not going according to his expectations.

"You've underestimated me, Si-wan," Ji-hoon said, the words coming out with more force than he intended. "You thought you could break me. You thought you could control me. But you can't. Not anymore."

Si-wan's expression hardened slightly, and his eyes narrowed. "Is this your grand plan? To talk to me like I'm just some fool you can manipulate?" He took a step forward, clearly irritated, but Ji-hoon stood his ground, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on his shoulders.

"This isn't a game anymore," Ji-hoon continued, his voice low and dangerous. "This is my life. And you took everything from me. You think you're invincible, but you're wrong. You're not untouchable. You'll see that soon enough."

Si-wan's lips curled into another smile, but this one was colder, more sinister. "You really believe you can stop me? Do you really think this is it? You think you're going to kill me, Ji-hoon? How quaint."

Ji-hoon's eyes locked onto Si-wan's with an intensity that made the air between them crackle. The trap was closing in. It was too late for Si-wan to escape, too late for him to turn back. Ji-hoon knew that now—there was no going back.

"I don't need to kill you, Si-wan," Ji-hoon said, his voice steady but filled with a quiet fury. "I just need to make sure you know you've lost. That's all."

For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of Ji-hoon's words hanging in the air. Si-wan seemed to freeze, as if processing the sudden shift in the dynamic between them. But before he could respond, a soft click echoed in the distance—a sound that would forever change the course of everything.

The trap had been sprung.

Ji-hoon felt the rush of adrenaline flood his system as everything around them seemed to fall into place. Si-wan's eyes flickered with uncertainty, his posture stiffening as he realized the truth. He had been played.

The stage lights flickered, casting long, distorted shadows across the room. The hum of electricity filled the space, creating an eerie, tense atmosphere. Si-wan's smug expression faltered as he turned, realizing too late that he was trapped—surrounded by the very forces he had once controlled with such ease.

Ji-hoon stood tall, unwavering. The trap was set. And Si-wan had walked right into it.

But Ji-hoon knew better than anyone—the game wasn't over yet. The real test had just begun.

The stage was set, but it wasn't yet over. Ji-hoon's body buzzed with tension, but he didn't let his breath betray him. The trap had been sprung, and Si-wan was too far into it now. The mask of control was slipping, and Ji-hoon felt a strange sense of satisfaction. For the first time in so long, it wasn't his life hanging by a thread—he had taken the reins, and the burden of power was now his.

Si-wan, who had spent years manipulating and controlling every situation, now seemed small. The imposing figure who once had everyone trembling beneath his gaze was now vulnerable, exposed. Ji-hoon's senses, though blurred by blindness, picked up on the slight changes in Si-wan's demeanor. The subtle shift in his breathing. The faintest tremor in his posture. The pride that once defined Si-wan had turned to uncertainty.

"I didn't think you'd ever have the guts to confront me, Ji-hoon," Si-wan finally spoke, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and thinly veiled frustration.

Ji-hoon's lips curled into the faintest of smiles, one that he knew Si-wan couldn't see, but it was enough to send a chill through the air. "You always thought you knew me, didn't you?" His voice was a low rasp, each word carrying a weight that seemed to grow heavier with every syllable. "That's where you were wrong. You never understood me at all."

Si-wan let out a sharp laugh, though it lacked the usual confidence. "Don't fool yourself, Ji-hoon. You think you've won? This is just the beginning. You can't stop me now. Not when it's all too late."

Ji-hoon took another step forward, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as he moved, though the sound felt like it echoed through the empty space around them. "You still don't get it, do you?" Ji-hoon said, his words cutting through the air with a bite. "This isn't about stopping you, Si-wan. It's about showing you that everything you thought you controlled is crumbling around you. You're no longer the puppet master. You're just another puppet in my game."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Si-wan's laughter died off, replaced by the rapid, uneven rhythm of his breathing. Ji-hoon could sense the panic that was starting to edge into Si-wan's mind, the first cracks in his carefully crafted armor.

"You think you've outsmarted me, Ji-hoon?" Si-wan's voice was strained now, his earlier smugness replaced by something far darker. "You think you've won, but you've only set yourself up for a greater fall. No one escapes me."

Ji-hoon didn't respond immediately. Instead, he waited. The trap had been set, but it wasn't about pulling a simple lever to end the game. No, it was about the slow burn, the unraveling of everything Si-wan had once believed was indestructible. Ji-hoon wanted Si-wan to feel the weight of his own hubris, to understand that the people he had toyed with were no longer beneath him. They had risen. They had fought back.

The words Ji-hoon spoke next were quiet but deliberate, each one laden with the years of suffering and injustice he had endured. "It's over, Si-wan. You don't control the game anymore."

The air in the room shifted again, heavy with an almost palpable weight. Si-wan's footsteps faltered for a brief moment, and Ji-hoon could sense the sudden realization that the ground was slipping from beneath him. The confidence Si-wan once exuded was now a distant memory, replaced with raw fear—a fear Ji-hoon had been working toward for so long.

Si-wan's voice trembled slightly as he spoke again. "You think you've won? You really think I'm just going to let you walk away from this? You're nothing without me, Ji-hoon. I made you. You owe everything to me."

Ji-hoon's grip tightened on his cane, his knuckles white from the pressure. "I owe you nothing, Si-wan. You never made me. You only ever tried to break me. But I'm still standing. And you... you're the one who's broken."

The words stung more than Ji-hoon anticipated. A quiet fury burned in his chest, but it wasn't just for Si-wan. It was for everything—the years of torment, the fear, the pain. It was for the pieces of his soul Si-wan had torn away over the years, for the mother he had lost and the darkness that had followed him for so long. Ji-hoon had fought through it all, and now, he would make Si-wan face the consequences of his actions.

"I think you need to understand something, Si-wan," Ji-hoon said softly, almost as though speaking to himself. "You've never had control over me. I've always been the one in control, even when you couldn't see it. And now, you'll learn what it feels like to be powerless."

Si-wan's breathing grew erratic, his steps shifting, as if he were pacing, trying to find his bearings. "You think this is over? You think I'm powerless?" His voice had risen to a frantic pitch. "You have no idea what you're dealing with, Ji-hoon. You'll never win. I will make sure of it."

Ji-hoon stepped closer, his movements calculated and slow. The game was nearly over. The trap was in motion, and now, there was no going back. Si-wan had underestimated him, as he always had. He had never once thought that Ji-hoon would rise up, let alone outsmart him.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore, Si-wan," Ji-hoon said, his voice low but filled with a quiet, intense fury. "And you should be afraid of me."

The words hit Si-wan like a slap, and for the first time, Ji-hoon could hear it—the cracking of Si-wan's composure. The control he had once wielded with such ease was slipping away, piece by piece. And it was beautiful.

Si-wan tried to regain his posture, his confidence, but the cracks were already too deep. "You'll regret this, Ji-hoon. You can't escape what I've done. No one can."

Ji-hoon's lips curled into a smile—one that he knew Si-wan could not see but would feel all the same. "I already have, Si-wan. I've escaped. And now, it's your turn."