Chapter 45 : Surprise

Chapter 45 : Surprise

The moment James, Ruby, and Minji left, Kai's expression shifted completely.

Like a flipped coin, the calm gentleness in his eyes vanished—replaced by something cold… sharp.

A stillness settled in the room as soon as James, Ruby, and Minji disappeared from view.

A stillness not born of peace…

but the kind that comes before a storm.

Moon leaned back slightly in his chair, his fingers tapping the armrest lazily—until he saw it.

Kai's face had changed.

Subtly, but completely.

The light that usually flickered in his eyes—the mischief, the calculating calm—was gone.

Replaced by a glint that could only be called dangerous.

His jaw clenched ever so slightly, his shoulders tightening.

The muscles around his mouth twitched once before settling into a grim line.

No theatrics. No exaggerated expression.

Just a silent transformation.

But Moon noticed.

He always did.

He turned his head slowly, eyes locking onto his brother's expression.

And in that moment—he understood everything.

No words were needed.

No explanations.

Only a shared weight in the air between them.

Then Kai spoke.

Quietly.

Like a whisper wrapped in finality.

> "I think it's time…"

His gaze was unfocused, distant—like he was looking through the walls, straight at their target.

> "I thought maybe… that mutt would get a little longer to breathe.

Some more days. Some more hours.

But I guess… not."

There was no hatred in his voice.

Only something colder.

Like someone delivering a sentence long overdue.

Moon didn't flinch.

Didn't ask for clarification.

He just looked down.

A soft sigh escaped his lips.

Then, slowly, the edge of his smile—whatever remained of it—faded.

He stood up.

Calmly. Deliberately.

No fury. No rush.

His fingers brushed against the air, and with a slight flick, his storage ring lit up briefly.

A black shirt materialized in his hands—sleek, light, yet dense with weight.

Next, a pair of pitch-black pants, tightly folded and neatly pressed.

He began changing.

His old clothes—t-shirt and loose trousers—fell away piece by piece, as though shedding his civilian skin.

First the shirt.

Then the pants.

The moment the new outfit touched his body, he seemed to change too—becoming… quieter.

Not in sound. But in aura.

His shoulders dropped slightly—not in defeat, but relaxation.

The kind of peace that comes when the decision to kill has already been made.

Finally, he reached into the ring once more and pulled out his signature footwear: a pair of immaculate white shoes.

Stark against his black clothes.

A symbol of contrast. Like moonlight in the night sky.

He slipped them on without a sound.

Not a wrinkle on his attire.

Not a tremble in his fingers.

Dressed like death.

Prepared for judgment.

He looked to the side.

Kai had already changed.

A white dress shirt, crisp and tailored, hugged his frame with elegant precision.

Each button closed neatly.

His sleeves were half folded—never rushed, never casual.

His jet-black pants pressed against him with sharp edges, ironed to perfection.

His shoes gleamed beneath the overhead light—polished black leather that seemed to absorb every shadow in the room.

Kai stood straight, running a single hand through his hair, smoothing back the last strand.

Then his fingers stilled.

He looked at Moon.

Moon looked back.

No signal was given.

None was needed.

Their steps echoed together as they walked out.

Side by side.

Like twin specters of a past someone should never have touched.

The two of them stood, now dressed like ghosts of vengeance.

And together, they walked out—without looking back.

They moved through the base streets like shadows, quiet and certain, until Moon finally broke the silence.

> "How do you know he's in that direction?"

Kai didn't pause.

Didn't blink.

His eyes remained forward, steady as a blade locked onto its target.

> "I've already done the research," he said, his tone flat—too flat.

There was no pride in his voice.

No arrogance.

Only cold certainty.

> "James helped.

I know exactly where his room is.

We'll wait just outside. No need to rush…

He's still within base limits.

So unless he somehow dies before that…

He'll be back by evening."

The wind brushed gently across the corridor they walked through, but Moon didn't notice it.

He was focused on Kai.

The way his brother spoke—detached, calculated—

Moon tilted his head slightly, absorbing every word.

He didn't ask how deep the research went.

Didn't question James's involvement.

Didn't doubt the plan.

Because he didn't need to.

He just nodded.

Slowly.

Gravely.

Like a silent oath being sealed.

> "Makes sense…" he murmured, more to himself than to Kai.

And then there was nothing but the soft thud of their footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Twin shadows.

Moving toward something that couldn't be undone.

A few minutes later, they arrived near the section where Ruok's quarters were located.

Instead of heading directly to the room, they walked into a small hotel just across the hall and rented a room facing his.

From there—they waited.

Time passed.

The hours rolled by like thick fog, silent and heavy.

Moon and Kai waited inside the dim hotel room across the hall, the curtains drawn just enough to let them peek at the corridor beyond.

Neither spoke.

They didn't need to.

Kai stood near the window, arms folded, eyes calculating.

Moon sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed slightly, fingers loosely tapping against his thigh—like a drummer playing death's countdown.

Outside, the sun had begun to lower.

Its rays stretched long and narrow across the corridor tiles, casting slanted shadows like prison bars on the walls.

Then—

Kai straightened, eyes narrowing.

> "He's here."

Moon stood instantly.

Through the narrow slit in the curtain, they both saw him.

Ruok.

Far down the hallway.

A drunken mess.

He was swaying with each step, one arm dragging against the wall for support.

His shirt was half untucked, shoes uneven, breath ragged.

Every few seconds, he stopped and blinked slowly—lost, as if unsure where he even was.

He looked nothing like the arrogant predator they remembered.

This version was pitiful.

His legs buckled once.

Then again.

And then—he lost balance entirely.

Ruok's foot caught on the edge of the wall panel, and his body tipped forward.

A slow-motion fall.

But before he could hit the ground—

Two figures appeared.

One from the left.

One from the right.

Moon and Kai.

Silent as mist, precise as fate.

They caught him—each grabbing one arm firmly, holding him upright like puppeteers halting a collapse.

Ruok blinked, dazed and dizzy, unable to focus.

> "Careful, sir," Moon said softly, his tone polite. Unnaturally calm.

"Please… watch your step."

His voice carried the perfect balance of concern and formality—just enough to sound convincing.

Kai nodded beside him, adjusting Ruok's arm over his shoulder.

Ruok blinked again, lips slightly parted.

> "Wh… who… are… you…?"

His breath smelled strongly of alcohol. His pupils were unfocused.

Moon gave a slight smile that never reached his eyes.

> "Just helping."

They had covered their faces slightly—nothing suspicious, just enough to avoid being recognized.

And Ruok… he was too far gone to notice anything anyway.

His breath reeked of alcohol.

His eyes were hazy.

> "Who… are you two…?" he muttered, confused.

They didn't answer.

Instead, they smiled politely, pretending to help him.

Guiding him gently, step by step, back to his room.

Once outside his door, they feigned concern.

Ruok mumbled something incoherent and pressed his fingerprint on the scanner.

Beep.

The door slid open.

---

Moon and Kai blinked.

What they saw… wasn't just a room.

It was a trap.

A perfectly constructed lie wearing the skin of comfort.

The lights clicked on overhead, revealing a vast chamber that stretched far beyond what should've been possible in a base room.

It looked more like the living room of a luxury mansion—marbled floors, velvet couches, polished tables, and a chandelier that glowed like a false star.

But something felt wrong.

Too symmetrical.

Too clean.

Too quiet.

Moon's eyes scanned the space instinctively.

There—on the left.

There—by the corners.

And more.

They weren't alone.

At least fifty people sat scattered around the room.

Men. Women.

All dressed in simple clothes.

All quiet.

All still.

Unnaturally still.

Some pretended to sip tea. Others sat with crossed legs, eyes downcast, like guests at a formal gathering.

But their posture was too perfect.

Their limbs too relaxed.

Their expressions too blank.

It was an illusion.

They had been waiting.

And now… the wait was over.

The moment the door clicked shut behind Moon and Kai, sealing with a soft but final sound—

everything changed.

The air dropped in temperature.

The silence cracked.

Dozens of eyes snapped upward in unison.

And then—

They moved.

Fast.

Unbelievably fast.

Moon barely had time to lift his hand.

Kai's mouth opened slightly—half a breath, half a word.

But it was already too late.

Two blurs shot forward.

Two fists—one from each side—connected with terrifying force.

Crack.

One hit Kai clean in the back of his head.

The second collided with Moon's jaw.

A blinding flash.

An overwhelming jolt.

The ground seemed to vanish beneath their feet.

And then—nothing.

Darkness swallowed them whole.

Just like that…

Moon and Kai—were unconscious.

Outplayed.

Overwhelmed.

Caged.

To be continued…