The room was eerily silent, save for the faint ticking of an antique clock mounted on the wall. The chandelier above them bathed the space in a dim golden glow, casting elongated shadows that flickered with each small movement. The very air felt thick with tension, the kind that settled between men who didn't trust each other—but were willing to do business anyway.
Alexei leaned back into his chair, his fingers drumming against the carved wooden armrest. His sharp eyes flickered between Caesar and Eun-jae, assessing, dissecting.
"You guys may take your seats."
The invitation was anything but friendly.
Caesar, unbothered as ever, lowered himself into the chair opposite Alexei with the ease of a man who owned the room, whether or not he was invited. Eun-jae followed, maintaining a composed yet watchful demeanor. Every move Alexei made was calculated, but then again—so were Caesar's.
Alexei crossed his legs, his expression blank.
"I don't have much time." His voice was smooth, but impatient. "So get to the point. You said you brought me a fine product."
There it was.
The pivot of the conversation—the moment where a deal was either entertained or dismissed.
Caesar, of course, smiled. The kind of smile that made people nervous.
A slow, knowing stretch of lips.
Like a predator about to set a trap.
"Yes, it's not well known," Caesar began, voice rich with something dangerous—intrigue, temptation, a promise of something Alexei wouldn't be able to resist.
Eun-jae watched him carefully, even as he kept his own expression neutral.
He had seen Caesar do this before.
The slow entrapment. The web of deception spun so perfectly that you didn't even realize you were tangled until it was too late.
And Alexei?
He was walking straight into it.
"This program was created months ago, a joint effort between Korea and Canada."
Alexei raised a brow, leaning forward slightly—not because he was interested, but because he was listening.
And listening meant Caesar had already won the first step.
"Both countries saw its potential—realized how powerful it was—and so they did the only thing they could."
Caesar exhaled, as if relaying a grand secret. His fingers lazily tapped against the table, his body language relaxed—too relaxed.
"They stole it."
Alexei's eyes narrowed.
Not doubtful.
Curious.
"With this program, there's no need for spies. No need to break into secure facilities, no need to plant men where they don't belong." Caesar tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting under the warm glow of the chandelier. "It does everything."
Alexei scoffed. "Everything?"
"Everything," Caesar repeated, voice silk-smooth, a salesman who already knew the product would sell itself.
Eun-jae, watching, felt a strange chill crawl up his spine.
Because the way Caesar spoke—
The way he wove his words like a net—
It wasn't just convincing.
It was hypnotic.
And if Eun-jae didn't know better—if he wasn't already aware of the truth—he might have found himself believing it too.
"This program is unlike anything the world has seen." Caesar's voice dropped slightly, adding an edge of secrecy. "It's a hacking tool, but not just any hacking tool."
He leaned in, lowering his voice as if speaking a forbidden truth.
"With this, you don't just hack into systems."
His fingers tapped the table once.
Tap.
"You infiltrate them."
Tap.
"You erase yourself from security logs before you even enter."
Tap.
"You become a ghost in the system."
Eun-jae felt his stomach tighten.
Because even though he knew this was all an elaborate performance—the perfect illusion of a flawless product that didn't truly exist—he could see the shift in Alexei's demeanor.
The slight twitch in his fingers.
The way his lips parted just a fraction, the faintest furrow of his brows.
He was hooked.
And Caesar wasn't done.
"With this program, you could escape from an enemy's grasp without them even realizing you were ever there." His voice dipped into something just a shade darker, a whisper of danger laced with promise.
Then he smiled.
Slow. Dangerous. A masterpiece of manipulation.
"This isn't just a tool, Alexei."
Pause.
"It's the future."
Silence.
Eun-jae felt his pulse in his throat.
Because he knew this was the moment.
This was the second Alexei had to decide—to take the bait, or walk away.
And then—
Alexei exhaled slowly.
The air in the room shifted, thickening with an unspoken challenge.
Alexei leaned forward, studying Caesar with the sharp eyes of a man who trusted no one—especially not when something sounded too good to be true.
"How sure are you that this isn't some fake sort of… something?" Alexei asked, his tone laced with suspicion.
Caesar, of course, didn't flinch. He didn't hesitate.
Instead, he smiled.
The kind of smile that made people doubt their own doubts.
"I thought you might say that," he said smoothly, reaching into his coat pocket. "So I came prepared."
He pulled out his phone with a calm, measured movement, as if he had done this a thousand times before. Then, unlocking the screen with a casual swipe, he turned the device toward Alexei.
"I assume you're familiar with one of your committee members?" Caesar asked, eyes glinting with amusement.
Alexei's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker—a brief shift in his gaze.
A reaction.
Which meant Caesar had struck exactly where he intended to.
"What about him?" Alexei asked, feigning indifference.
Caesar tilted his phone slightly, letting the glow of the screen illuminate his fingers.
"Well, let's just say… I now receive all his emails. His calls. His messages." He tapped the screen. "Everything. In real-time."
Eun-jae, watching, felt a slow unease crawl up his spine.
He had heard Caesar say these exact words before.
The same lie that had convinced him, back when he was still just a step away from falling into Caesar's world.
And now, watching it play out again—watching the effortless deception unfold in front of Alexei—
It was terrifying.
Because Caesar made it look so damn real.
Alexei narrowed his eyes. "Show me."
Caesar, predictably, did not hesitate.
He opened a message thread. The name at the top of the screen was undeniable—one of Alexei's trusted men. The latest email, timestamped just minutes ago, was displayed for them to see.
A confidential discussion about shipment logistics, coded locations, encrypted instructions.
Alexei's eyes widened.
For the first time since the conversation began, his mask cracked.
And Caesar saw it.
And smiled.
"Go ahead," Caesar said smoothly, tilting his head slightly. "Check your own phone."
Alexei's fingers twitched.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out his own device. His expression remained unreadable, but the tension in his posture betrayed him. He scrolled, checked, double-checked.
And then—
His lips parted just slightly.
A slow, dawning realization settled over him.
This wasn't some bluff.
This wasn't just some ridiculous claim.
It existed.
"Goodness me… I'm short of words," Alexei murmured, his laughter low and disbelieving.
He sat back, shaking his head slightly, as if trying to process the weight of what had just been placed in his hands.
"Oh, don't worry," Caesar said, voice dripping with satisfaction. "Take your time. Think about it."
Eun-jae kept his expression neutral, but inside—
Inside, he felt a slow, cold dread settle in his chest.
Because this was the moment.
The moment when Alexei should have walked away.
The moment when he should have questioned the impossible.
But instead—
He was falling.
Hook, line, and sinker.
And Caesar knew it.
He always knew it.
"As tempting as this is…" Alexei exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Why would you bring something like this to me, of all people?"
His gaze sharpened, searching Caesar for hidden motives.
Caesar, predictably, looked unbothered.
"Why not you?" he countered, flashing a lazy smirk. "You're a man of power. You're a man of influence. A man who understands the true value of something like this."
He leaned in slightly, voice dipping into something smoother, darker.
"And I'm a businessman, Alexei." His fingers tapped the table once. Tap. "I only bring my products to those who can afford them."
Alexei's smirk twitched.
Because he liked that answer.
Caesar had played him perfectly.
Slowly, Alexei exhaled.
"Very well," he said, his voice slipping back into calculated control. "I'll think this over and give you my decision."
A pause.
Then—
"In the meantime… why don't you stay here?"
Eun-jae's heart stilled.
"We can look into this further," Alexei added. "Verify everything. See how far this little program of yours really goes."
Eun-jae felt a slow, cold shiver run down his spine.
This was it.
The moment he had been waiting for.
The opportunity to stay here.
The opportunity to wait for Voron's arrival.
His fingers curled slightly against his leg, but he forced himself to keep his face composed.
He couldn't react.
He couldn't seem too eager.
So instead, he simply grinned.
"Of course," Eun-jae said, his voice as smooth as Caesar's.
But inside—
Inside, his pulse was racing.
Eun-jae gritted his teeth as he twisted the doorknob, but it refused to budge.
"Tch... damn it," he muttered under his breath, frustration tightening his jaw. He rattled the handle again, harder this time. Clang. The metal lock held firm, refusing to give way. Another sharp rattle, another useless attempt. The door was fixed shut.
Exhaling sharply, he took a step back, his eyes narrowing. His gaze flickered to the window. Stepping closer, he peered outside, expecting a possible escape route. Instead, his stomach sank.
A sheer cliff. A drop into nothingness.
"Hmm..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Outside the window is just a sheer cliff... So dark."
The weight of the realization settled over him like a heavy shroud. There was no way out—at least, not yet.
Eun-jae's gaze flickered toward the door, his mind replaying the moments before he had been escorted into the room. The corridors had been heavily guarded, their sharp eyes tracking his every move. He let out a slow breath, his fingers tracing the smooth surface of the desk beside him.
"So, I'm trapped here."
His jaw tightened at the realization. The presence of guards meant he wouldn't be able to wander freely—not unless he found a way past them. He shifted his weight, glancing around the lavishly furnished space. Everything about the room screamed luxury, but beneath its elegance lay an undeniable sense of confinement.
"If they went this far, they clearly don't trust me." Eun-jae thought
Eun-jae's phone vibrated in his palm, the sharp beep, beep breaking the silence of the dimly lit room. His eyes flicked to the glowing screen, where a complex map of the mansion unfolded before him. A single pulsing dot marked his location, surrounded by intricate, angular lines forming the blueprint of the building.
His thumb hovered over the screen, tracing the neon-green grid as his pulse quickened. There it was—subtle, but unmistakable. Spaces that shouldn't exist.
"As expected… There are hidden spaces in the mansion."
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 asshole."
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.