His stomach dropped. "Oh, come on," he thought, freezing mid-step.
The officers didn't waste any time. They walked straight toward him, their heavy boots echoing on the tiled floor. One grabbed his arm roughly.
"You thief, where do you think you're going without paying, huh?" the taller officer barked.
Eun-jae's mouth fell open. "Thief?! I wasn't running away—"
The second officer shoved a portable card reader in his face, the red "Declined" message glaring at him like an accusation.
Eun-jae's mind raced. "This can't be happening. I'm not some criminal!" His face flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation. "If Caesar thinks he's getting away with this, he's got another thing coming."
"Wait, sir, lemme—" Eun-jae started, but the taller officer cut him off with a sneer.
"You lowlifes are all the same. Bet your mother raised you to scam your way through life, huh?"
Eun-jae froze. His entire body went rigid as the words sank in. "What did he just say? My mother?"
The officer's mocking expression was the last straw. Without thinking, Eun-jae's elbow shot out, connecting with the man's throat. The officer stumbled back, choking and clutching his neck. The other officer moved toward him, but Eun-jae was faster, driving his fist into the man's jaw with a satisfying crack. He crumpled to the floor in an unconscious heap.
Eun-jae didn't even have time to catch his breath before he heard the scrape of a chair being lifted behind him. He turned, his heart pounding, to see the first officer recovering, his face twisted in rage as he raised the chair above his head.
Before the chair could come down, it was snatched out of the officer's hands.
"What's with all the commotion?" a familiar, infuriatingly calm voice said.
Eun-jae turned to see Caesar standing there, the chair in one hand, a smirk playing on his lips as if this were all some elaborate joke.
"Caesar!" Eun-jae shouted, his voice a mix of relief and frustration.
Caesar's smirk widened. "You're welcome, by the way."
Eun-jae glared at him, his chest heaving. "Of course he shows up now, looking all smug like a discount hero. Where was he five minutes ago?!"
The officer pointed a shaky finger at Eun-jae. "He assaulted us!"
Caesar tilted his head, his expression one of mild amusement. "Assaulted you? Or defended himself from your, shall we say, overzealous approach?"
Eun-jae crossed his arms, fuming. "I swear, if this man doesn't get me out of here in the next two minutes, I'm going to lose it."
Caesar's gaze flicked to him, and for a brief moment, their eyes met. There was something unreadable in his expression—a mix of amusement, annoyance, and maybe even a hint of pride.
Eun-jae sat at the window of the shabby restaurant, his gaze locked on Caesar, who was outside chatting casually with the police officers. "Casually" being the operative word, because while Eun-jae had just gone through what felt like a life-or-death showdown, Caesar was out there grinning as if he were catching up with old drinking buddies.
Eun-jae tapped his fingers against the table impatiently, his foot bouncing with frustration. "What the hell is he even saying to them? Bribing them with charm? Or maybe he's got some secret handshake for shady deals I don't know about?" He leaned closer to the window, trying to decipher Caesar's calm, effortless demeanor.
Finally, after what felt like hours—but was probably only minutes—Caesar wrapped up his little chat. The officers gave him curt nods before walking away, leaving Caesar to stroll back into the restaurant with that infuriating smirk plastered across his face.
The moment Caesar stepped through the door, the sound of wood splintering echoed in Eun-jae's head again. He replayed the scene over and over: Caesar catching the chair mid-swing like some action hero in a low-budget movie, completely unbothered, as if the laws of physics didn't apply to him.
"What kind of sorcery did you use this time?" Eun-jae snapped, crossing his arms as Caesar sauntered over.
Caesar's smirk somehow deepened, which Eun-jae didn't even think was possible. "Nothing special," Caesar drawled, his tone so casual it made Eun-jae want to scream. "Just handed them a little bit of cash for some water."
Eun-jae's eyes narrowed, his blood boiling at how nonchalantly Caesar had diffused the situation—something that had spiraled out of control in the first place because of him. "This bastard… Always acting like he's five steps ahead. Like he's got the whole world wrapped around his perfectly manicured finger."
He bit back a sarcastic retort, instead settling for glaring at Caesar as the officers disappeared down the street. His mind, however, was far from silent.
"This guy—this smug, overconfident asshole—knew exactly what he was doing from the start. He didn't give me that card out of the goodness of his heart. No, he wanted to track me. He probably knew I'd use it, and when I did, he'd report it as stolen just to teach me some ridiculous lesson or see if I'd slip up."
Eun-jae's fists clenched at his sides. "He doesn't care if it lands me in trouble—why would he? As long as he gets his way, the rest of the world can burn for all he cares."
Caesar raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Eun-jae's seething silence. "So?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. "Done playing hero, or should I let them take you to jail next time?"
Eun-jae gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. "This man is a menace. A walking, talking, designer-suit-wearing menace."
The sheer audacity of Caesar's question nearly made Eun-jae explode. Instead, he shot him a look so sharp it could have cut glass. "This isn't over," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and dangerous.
Caesar chuckled—a deep, rich sound that only irritated Eun-jae further. "Whatever you say, hero," he replied, turning toward the door.
Eun-jae had just opened his mouth to speak when a flicker of movement outside the window caught his attention. His words died in his throat as his sharp gaze fixed on the shadow shifting just beyond the glass. His instincts kicked in, every muscle in his body tensing as his mind raced. "Oh, great. What now? Because clearly, one night without chaos is asking for too much."
Without hesitation, he turned back to Caesar, who was blissfully unaware, lounging as if he owned the place. Eun-jae's patience snapped. "Of course he looks completely relaxed. Must be nice, not having to worry about, I don't know, everything all the time."
"Hey, listen," Eun-jae said, his voice low but firm. Grabbing Caesar's tie in one swift motion, he yanked him down until their faces were mere inches apart. Caesar's eyes widened momentarily in surprise before narrowing back into his usual infuriatingly calm demeanor.
"Is this your idea of foreplay?" Caesar asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Eun-jae ignored the quip, his own gaze burning with irritation. "I think we're being spied on," he said in a hushed tone, his words clipped and direct. His fingers tightened around the silk fabric of Caesar's tie as if to emphasize the seriousness of the situation.
Caesar blinked, then smirked as if Eun-jae had just told him a mildly amusing joke. "Why does he always look like he knows something I don't? It's infuriating."
"Take care of it," Eun-jae added sharply, releasing the tie with a small shove. He straightened up, crossing his arms as if to physically push back the rising frustration that always seemed to accompany Caesar's presence.
Caesar didn't move at first. Instead, he leaned forward, his face tilting dangerously close to Eun-jae's. His breath was warm, carrying a faint scent of expensive cologne.
Eun-jae didn't flinch, though his mind was screaming. "What is he doing? Why is he so close? Is this his idea of intimidation? Because newsflash, I've dealt with worse."
Caesar's smirk widened, his voice low and teasing. "I thought you were about to kiss me," he said, his tone a mixture of mockery and amusement.
Eun-jae's expression twisted into one of pure disbelief. "Kiss you?" he muttered in his head. "Why would I even—? This guy must live in his own little delusional world."
Instead of reacting, Eun-jae simply gave Caesar a pointed, questioning look, one eyebrow raised in a perfect arc of disdain. "God, you're so predictable. Is there anything you won't turn into some weird, flirty game?"
But Caesar wasn't done. He leaned in closer, his smirk transforming into something sharper, more deliberate. It was no longer teasing; it was a challenge.
"Oh, no. Nope. Not happening," Eun-jae thought as he raised a hand, placing his palm firmly against Caesar's face to block him.
"Are you going or not?" Eun-jae asked, his tone dry, his patience hanging by a thread.
Caesar chuckled, the sound vibrating against Eun-jae's palm before he finally straightened up. Adjusting his tie with exaggerated flair, he threw Eun-jae one last smirk. "Yhyh, I'm going," he said, his tone light but laced with amusement.
As Caesar turned and left, Eun-jae let out a long, exhausted sigh, collapsing into the chair with all the grace of someone who had just survived a tornado. He rubbed his temples, trying to soothe the headache that Caesar had inevitably caused.
"What is his deal? Does he have a quota of chaos to fill every day? And seriously, did he think I'd blush or something? Please. I'm not one of his fangirls. If he wants a reaction, he's going to have to try a lot harder than that."
Eun-jae's eyes flicked toward the window again, scanning for any sign of the shadow he'd seen earlier. His brows furrowed as unease crept up his spine. "Whoever it is, they'd better be gone when Caesar gets out there. Knowing him, he'll probably make it worse before it gets better. But hey, at least he's good for some things."
Settling back into the chair, Eun-jae's lips curled into a small, humorless smile. "One day, Caesar. One day, I'll figure you out. And when I do, you'll be the one sitting here with a headache."
Still, his gaze drifted back to the window, unease creeping in. "Whoever's out there better hope Caesar handles it quickly, because I'm not in the mood to play games tonight." He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "And if Caesar tries to pull something like that again, he's getting a knee to the stomach next time." Caesar strolled back into the restaurant like he hadn't just walked out to handle something—or rather, someone—in the most violent way possible. He moved with an air of nonchalance, his expression unreadable, but Eun-jae wasn't fooled. The slight tension in his shoulders, the way he flexed his fingers as he sat down, and—most tellingly—the angry red marks on the back of his hands all screamed otherwise.
"Took care of it," Caesar said simply, like he had just finished running an errand instead of whatever brutality he had just unleashed outside. He slid into the seat across from Eun-jae with ease, completely unfazed, as if the blood—or worse—on his knuckles wasn't his concern.
Eun-jae's gaze flickered down to Caesar's hands, lingering on the deep redness staining his skin. The same hands he used to tear that guy's jaw apart… He exhaled quietly, a slow breath through his nose, trying not to let his thoughts spiral. I'm sure this time, he crushed his face and finished him off. No way that guy's walking away from it.
A chill crawled up Eun-jae's spine as another thought crept in, one he hated acknowledging. Sometimes I feel like he's more Bes Ilay Karpov-Troitsky than the one that died in the river… His fingers twitched against the tabletop, but he clenched them into fists before they could betray him. Am I just being paranoid?
His mind was still racing when the sharp snap of fingers in front of his face jerked him back to reality.
"This isn't the time to be daydreaming," Caesar said, amusement dancing in his eyes as he smirked.
Eun-jae scowled, but before he could throw out a sharp remark, Caesar pulled something from his pocket and slid it across the table—an invitation card, pristine and embossed with gold lettering.
"What's that?" Eun-jae asked, narrowing his eyes as he took it, his fingers grazing over the heavy cardstock.
"There's going to be a celebration banquet for the signing of the contract between Ukraine and Russia at the Sovereign Palace," Caesar said, tilting his head slightly, his voice carrying that ever-present edge of amusement.
Right… the Sovereign Palace. Eun-jae's mind clicked into gear, recalling the plan that had been scrapped before it could even unfold properly. I was going to infiltrate this banquet as Nikolai Ivanov. But the plan went sideways because of the unexpected bombing. His grip on the card tightened slightly.
His mind raced again. Wait—hold on. Did they change the dates? Or is this a reschedule because of the bombing? If the location changed, then security would be even tighter. His brows furrowed. The explosion at the Ukrainian base threw everything into chaos… If they think someone is targeting key figures, they'll have every high-level guard in the country stationed at the palace.
"This is just something like skirmishes…" Caesar's voice interrupted his thoughts, and Eun-jae glanced up in time to see the smirk tugging at his lips. "The real afterparty comes later."
"An afterparty?" Eun-jae echoed, his brows rising slightly in suspicion.
"Yep." Caesar leaned back in his seat, completely at ease. "One of the Karpov-Troitsky mansions is near the Sovereign Palace. The owner? None other than the CEO of Volkov Energy. He's the one organizing it." He let out a chuckle. "And you know the afterparty is something people wouldn't dare miss. The big men—the kings of the underworld, the mafia, the corrupt businessmen—everyone who holds real power will be there." He tilted his head slightly, watching Eun-jae's reaction. "They'd do anything as long as it brings them money."
Eun-jae exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. Of course. When there's blood in the water, the sharks come circling. He tapped his fingers against the table, mind already working through possible angles.
Caesar's next words, however, made him still. "We might even get a clue about Codename Seraphim."
At that, Eun-jae snapped his gaze back to Caesar, eyes narrowing. "So let me get this straight… The Karpov-Troitskys are throwing an afterparty when one of their own just died?" His voice dripped with skepticism.
Caesar's lips curled into a knowing smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was something darker lurking beneath his amusement this time. "Do you actually think Bes is dead?" he asked, his tone almost taunting.
Eun-jae's breath caught for half a second before he scoffed, shaking his head. "Well, yeah. I saw him get shot in the water. And that water was freezing—no one could survive that."
Caesar let out a low chuckle, his fingers drumming lightly against the table as if he found Eun-jae's response almost… adorable.
"How naïve," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper, but Eun-jae heard it loud and clear.
Eun-jae bristled. "What?" His eyes sharpened, but Caesar only smirked again, like he was enjoying dragging this out.
"Unfortunately for you," Caesar said, tilting his head slightly, "his body was never found in the water." He let that sink in for a moment before adding, "The only body recovered was the driver's. And he was definitely dead."
Eun-jae's fingers twitched again, his mind reeling. His body wasn't found? He replayed the scene over and over again in his head—the gunshot, the splash, the way the icy river swallowed Bes whole. He remembered standing on that bridge, watching the ripples fade, waiting for something, anything, to resurface.
But nothing did.
Now, that absence—the missing body—felt like a ghost creeping up his spine.
He clenched his jaw. No. This could just be a coincidence. Bodies go missing all the time in situations like this.
And yet…
Yet, deep down, an unsettling feeling curled in his gut, something cold and insidious whispering at the edges of his thoughts.
What if Bes is alive?
And worse—what if he's been alive this whole time?
Eun-jae's eyes narrowed at Caesar. "What game are you playing? And why the hell do I feel like a pawn in it?"
Eun-jae cleared his throat, trying to shake off the unease settling in his gut. His fingers twitched slightly before he forced them to still, curling them into the crook of his arm as he folded them across his chest. He kept his expression neutral, refusing to let any emotion slip through the cracks. He had been in too many high-stakes situations to let something as simple as a conversation with Caesar rattle him—at least, that's what he told himself. But beneath the carefully controlled exterior, a storm brewed.
He kept his gaze trained on Caesar, watching him the way a predator watches another predator—measuring, waiting, calculating. Caesar had that same knowing smirk on his face, that irritating, ever-present glint of amusement in his eyes like he was in on some grand joke that Eun-jae had yet to figure out. The kind of smirk that told him that whatever was about to be said next would not only shift the playing field but might just set it on fire entirely.
"So," Eun-jae began, keeping his voice steady, level. "How sure are you that we'll actually be able to get the information we need about Seraphim?"
A simple question. Direct. Straight to the point. But deep down, Eun-jae already knew that nothing about Seraphim was ever going to be simple.
Caesar didn't answer immediately. He was too busy reaching into his coat, the movement slow and deliberate, as if he was drawing out the suspense on purpose. Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he pulled out a thick brown envelope and dropped it onto the table with a dull thud. It was slightly worn, the edges creased, the surface marked with faint fingerprints—like it had passed through too many hands before finally landing in front of him.
Eun-jae's eyes flickered down to it, his pulse ticking up a fraction.
"These," Caesar said, tapping the envelope with two fingers, "are the names of the people involved in the development of the code."