For a moment, Eun-jae's mind lurched back—back to that dark, bloodstained room, the flickering overhead light barely illuminating Morgan's terrified face. The man had been a mess: bloodied, bruised, shaking so hard his teeth clattered like a cheap wind-up toy. The memory of the knife in Eun-jae's grip—glinting, slick, dangerous—was still vivid.
"S-Someone from the Karpov-Troitsky would contact Hyunji," Morgan had stammered, his voice a pitiful whimper. "B-But I don't know the method! I swear!"
Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Eun-jae had been seconds away from flaying the truth out of him, but the bastard had already given up before the blade had even kissed his skin.
And now—now—everything clicked into place like the final piece of a twisted puzzle.
His eyes snapped open as reality slammed back into him.
"So that's how they were going to make contact," Eun-jae thought, jaw tightening. It had been right under their noses this whole damn time.
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple as he glanced at Caesar, who still looked obnoxiously calm behind the wheel.
"So?" Eun-jae muttered, tilting his head back against the seat. "What happened now? Let me guess—you lost them?" He let out a heavy sigh, already bracing himself for the inevitable disappointment.
Caesar made a vague, noncommittal sound. "Uhhh… yeah. And no."
Eun-jae's head snapped toward him so fast it was a miracle he didn't sprain something. "Which is which?!"
Caesar's lips quirked up in amusement, but there was something sharp in his gaze—like he was leading up to the real punchline. "In short? Hyunji didn't get off at Ulaanbaatar."
Eun-jae's brows furrowed. "Wait—what?"
Caesar's smirk widened, clearly relishing the moment. "After meeting the driver, there was a helicopter already waiting for him."
For a second, Eun-jae just stared.
Then, he blinked.
Then, he blinked again.
"Hold the fuck up," he said, lifting a hand. "A helicopter?! On a moving train?! Are we in a goddamn action movie now?!"
Caesar chuckled, the sound low and entertained. "More like a very well-planned escape sequence."
Eun-jae pinched the bridge of his nose. "You better start explaining before I reach over and strangle you."
Caesar hummed thoughtfully, like he was deciding just how much to indulge him. "Alright, alright. Since you asked so nicely…" He threw Eun-jae a sideways glance before returning his focus to the road. "Here's how Hyunji pulled it off."
Eun-jae crossed his arms, waiting.
"The driver—who, might I remind you, was very much working for the Karpov-Troitsky—was already in on it," Caesar began, his voice smooth and composed, like he was detailing an elaborate chess match. "As soon as Hyunji made contact, the plan was set into motion. The driver started gradually slowing down the train—not enough to be obvious, but just enough that the average passenger wouldn't notice."
Eun-jae's eyes narrowed. "But you noticed."
Caesar flashed him a grin. "Of course I did. Do I look like an average passenger?"
Eun-jae groaned, throwing his head back against the seat. "God, I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"I do."
Caesar ignored him and continued, his tone almost lazy—like he was too good at this, like he had Hyunji's entire playbook memorized. "Anyway. Once the train was moving at just the right speed, the chopper—conveniently already waiting—closed in. And then, well, you can imagine the rest."
Eun-jae clenched his jaw. "Hyunji climbed out."
"Bingo."
"While the train was still moving."
"Give the man some credit," Caesar mused. "I mean, he didn't hesitate. One swift movement, climbed up the side like he's been training for this his whole life, and—boom—into the chopper." He made a flicking gesture with his fingers, like flicking a cigarette out a window. "Gone. Like a ghost."
Eun-jae inhaled slowly through his nose, exhaled through clenched teeth.
"So, let me get this straight," he said, voice deceptively calm. "You're telling me that while we—the supposedly elite, highly-trained professionals—were running around thinking we had him boxed in, this motherfucker was out here casually reenacting a scene from a goddamn spy thriller?"
Caesar snorted. "Pretty much."
Eun-jae swore so violently it could've melted steel.
Caesar just chuckled, drumming his fingers against the wheel. "Relax. I managed to track him."
That made Eun-jae pause. His head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. "How?"
Caesar's smirk turned downright smug. "I may or may not have slipped a tracker into his food."
Eun-jae blinked. "His food?!"
Caesar grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Mmhm. Right into his fancy little imported steak dinner."
Eun-jae was gaping. "And he ate it?!"
Caesar shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time I've pulled this off."
Eun-jae dragged a hand down his face, torn between being impressed and furious.
"You sneaky bastard."
Caesar winked. "That's why you like me."
"Why do you keep lying to yourself" Eun-jae said groaning
Eun-jae groaned. "I swear, one of these days, I'm going to throw you off a moving train."
"Aw, baby, you wouldn't."
Eun-jae shot him a look.
Caesar let out a deep chuckle, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel as he pressed down on the gas. The low hum of the engine turned into a growl, the car slicing through the empty streets like a predator in pursuit of its prey. Neon lights blurred past, illuminating the darkened city in streaks of red, blue, and white, but neither of them paid any attention to the world outside.
With a smirk, Caesar reached into his pocket and casually tossed something toward Eun-jae. Instinctively, Eun-jae caught it, glancing down at the small device resting in his palm—a tracker. The tiny screen flickered to life, displaying two blinking dots.
"We're the green one. He's the red," Caesar stated smoothly, eyes never leaving the road.
Eun-jae clicked his tongue. "Dude, I know how a tracker works. I'm not stupid."
Caesar chuckled at that, clearly amused.
Eun-jae leaned back against the seat, rubbing his temple. Finally, after all the chaos, they were getting somewhere. He stared at the blinking red dot on the tracker, watching as it moved across the map. The signal was steady. That bastard was still on the move.
"Finally," Eun-jae thought, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Thanks to Caesar's underhanded but admittedly effective tactics, we know exactly where he's heading. That bastard thought he could disappear into thin air, but no one escapes for long when Caesar's involved. I have to give it to him—his methods are questionable as hell, but damn, do they work."
His gaze sharpened as he studied the red dot's trajectory.
"Our top priority is figuring out what the hell Voron is," Eun-jae muttered, half to himself. "And whether it has any connection to Seraphim… If it's anything remotely similar, we're dealing with a serious fucking problem."
Caesar, as usual, looked unbothered. His grip on the steering wheel remained loose, his expression one of cool amusement. "We just need a day to catch up to him," he said casually, as if they weren't hurtling through the city in pursuit of a dangerous target.
Eun-jae's fingers tightened around the device. "One day before the tracker leaves his system…" he murmured, his mind racing.
"That's all we need. Just one damn day. He'll lead us straight to the weapon—straight to the answers we need."
"How's your head?"
The voice came smooth, effortless, like silk draped over a dagger. There was no real concern in it—just casual curiosity, as if he were asking about the weather.
Eun-jae blinked. His head?
What about his head?
Then he felt it. A dull, throbbing ache pulsing at his temple. And something else, something soft and foreign. He reached up on instinct, fingers brushing against—
What the hell?
Fabric. Wrapped tightly around his head. A bandage.
His whole body tensed, alarms blaring in his head. He definitely hadn't done this himself.
His version of first aid was more like "ignore it and hope it goes away." If it was bad enough, he might consider disinfecting it with some cheap convenience store wipes. But this? This was actually… neat? Secure? Like it had been done by someone who knew what they were doing?
His heart did a slow, dreadful turn in his chest.
Which meant—
His head snapped toward Caesar, eyes narrowing into razor-sharp suspicion. "Who did this?" he demanded, his voice edged with disbelief.
Caesar, still effortlessly gripping the steering wheel, didn't even glance at him. His smirk was barely-there, but infuriatingly present.
"Me, honey."
Silence.
Pure, absolute, earth-shattering silence.
Eun-jae stared. Blinked. Then stared again, his brain malfunctioning as the words processed.
Caesar. Caesar had—
No.
No, no way in hell.
"You?" Eun-jae blurted, voice spiking up an octave. His hand flew up to his temple again, fingers practically clawing at the bandage like it might suddenly unravel and reveal the truth underneath. "You did this?"
Caesar hummed, finally sparing him a fleeting glance. "Yup."
The casual way he said it made Eun-jae's blood pressure skyrocket.
"No," he sputtered. "No, no way. You're lying."
Caesar's smirk widened just slightly. "Why would I lie about that?"
Eun-jae's mouth opened, then shut. Then opened again.
"Because you live to mess with me?" he snapped. "Because you enjoy making my life miserable?"
"That's true," Caesar admitted easily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "But this time? Nah. That one's all me, sweetheart."
Eun-jae twitched. His brain refused to accept this. It was one thing for Caesar to be an absolute pain in the ass, but another for him to have taken care of him while he was unconscious.
Unconscious.
Oh god.
His stomach twisted. His entire body recoiled at the thought. He had been completely vulnerable and this menace had—
He shuddered.
"How?" he demanded, voice rising. "How did this even happen? Why did you do it?"
Caesar let out a long, exaggerated sigh, as if he was already bored of the conversation. "Because, darling," he drawled, "you were bleeding everywhere. And as much as I enjoy watching you suffer, I also need you alive. So, I did the responsible thing."
Eun-jae inhaled sharply through his nose. His fingers twitched, itching to strangle him.
"The responsible thing?" he repeated, barely holding back his irritation.
"Yes," Caesar said, completely unfazed. "I cleaned you up, patched you up—real gentle, by the way." He smirked. "You didn't even wake up. Slept like a damn baby."
Eun-jae nearly threw himself out of the car.
"I hate you," he hissed.
Caesar's grin was pure evil. "That's cute."
Eun-jae clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"And don't worry," Caesar continued smoothly. "I was very delicate. I even made sure the bandage didn't mess up your pretty little face."
Eun-jae lunged.
Caesar cackled, jerking the wheel slightly to the side just to throw him off balance. Eun-jae let out a strangled yelp, grabbing onto the door to steady himself.
"Sit down before you actually crack your head open this time," Caesar said, clearly enjoying this too much.
Eun-jae slumped back into his seat, arms crossed so tightly he might actually break a rib.
He hated that, for one terrifying second, his chest had felt warm at the thought of Caesar taking care of him.
Absolutely, unforgivably, disgustingly warm.
God, he needed a drink.
Or a coma.
Whichever would shut his brain up faster.
"Anyways, did you tell Ijeoma goodbye?"
Caesar's voice cut through the silence like a blade, smooth and indifferent, as if he were asking about something as casual as the weather.
Eun-jae, who had been too busy adjusting his seatbelt and making sure his pounding headache wasn't about to kill him, barely processed the question at first. His brows knitted together as he blinked in confusion.
"Who?" he asked.
Caesar didn't even glance at him, eyes fixed on the road, one hand draped lazily over the steering wheel as if he didn't have a single worry in the world. "The Nigerian lady who's about to get married."
Eun-jae's brain clicked into place.
Oh.
Her.
Ijeoma.
Tall, stunning, sharp-eyed, and confident—yeah, now he remembered her. But—why the hell was Caesar bringing her up now?
Eun-jae gave him a look. "Why would I need to tell her goodbye?"
"You looked like you liked her," Caesar mused, his voice laced with that unmistakable, insufferable amusement.
That tone.
That smug, knowing tone that made Eun-jae want to reach across the car and throttle him.
Eun-jae let out a sharp breath, crossing his arms. "Did I?" he asked dryly, already regretting the conversation.
Caesar's lips curled at the edges, and he didn't answer. He didn't have to. The smugness radiating off him was already loud enough.
Eun-jae narrowed his eyes. "You said you don't sleep with the same person more than once," he pointed out, tilting his head. "But here's the case—you slept with her more than twice."
Now that got a reaction.
Caesar's smirk deepened like he had been waiting for Eun-jae to say that.
"Oh," he drawled, "so that's what this is about."
Eun-jae stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Mm." Caesar made a low sound in the back of his throat, like he was considering something. Then he said, as if the answer was obvious, "Apparently, she's your type."
Eun-jae blinked.
"What?"
Caesar kept his tone casual. "Tall, tan-skinned lady with thick hips and big tits." His fingers tapped against the wheel in a slow rhythm, his smirk turning slightly wicked. "I thought she'd satisfy you."
Eun-jae opened his mouth, ready to rip into him, when Caesar added, completely unfazed,
"You needed sex, Eun-jae."
Silence.
Eun-jae's brain stopped functioning.
It shut down.
Restarted.
Then crashed again.
For a moment, all he could do was stare at Caesar, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, trying to process what he just heard.
Then—
Then, like a horrible punch to the gut, a memory came slamming back into him.
Eun-jae froze.
His breath hitched.
Oh, hell no.
No.
No, no, no.
No fucking way.
His entire body went rigid, his fingers digging into the seat beneath him as his brain forcefully dragged him back to that moment.
The moment he had sworn to erase from his mind.
The moment he had buried so deep, he had actually tricked himself into forgetting.
The moment he now realized was never truly forgotten.
Because now—
Now it was back.
Eun-jae snapped his head toward Caesar, horror and rage swirling together in his chest, the force of his emotions so strong he could taste them on his tongue.
"You—" his voice came out sharp, but he barely managed to get the words out.
Caesar flicked his gaze toward him, looking annoyingly calm, before returning his attention to the road.
Eun-jae felt his pulse hammering in his skull.
His whole body was practically shaking with disbelief.
"You—" he tried again, but his brain stuttered over the words, like it was refusing to let him say it out loud.
Caesar arched a lazy brow. "Something wrong?"
Eun-jae's fists clenched.
"Hey, quick question," he spat, voice dripping with venom. "Why the hell did you start thrusting in between my thighs?"
Caesar didn't even blink.
Not an ounce of guilt. Not a flicker of regret.
If anything—
The bastard smirked.
Eun-jae nearly exploded.
"Do you know that's harassment?" he snapped, practically vibrating with rage. "Or did your narcissistic, morally bankrupt ass just decide that boundaries don't apply to you?"
Caesar chuckled.
He had the audacity to chuckle.
"Oh, come on," he mused, his voice light, casual, as if they were discussing what to have for lunch. "Are we really going to make a big deal out of that?"
Eun-jae felt his soul leave his body.
His jaw dropped.
His eye twitched.
He twitched.
Then—
Then he lunged.
"MAKE A BIG DEAL OUT OF—"
Caesar snorted and smoothly dodged, keeping one hand firmly on the wheel as he glanced at Eun-jae with the smuggest fucking expression.
"Careful," he said in that same maddeningly slow drawl. "Wouldn't want you falling on my lap again."
Eun-jae froze.
His entire body locked up.
His rage temporarily short-circuited into pure horror.
Did—
Did this bastard just—
Eun-jae jerked back into his seat so hard he nearly hit his head against the window.
His face burned hot.
His mind was screaming.
"Oh my god," he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut. "I hate you."
Caesar just grinned. "No, you don't."