Eun-jae's breath came out in ragged, uneven gasps, each inhale burning his throat like acid as the drug worked its way through his system. It felt like fire coursing through his veins, searing him from the inside out, setting his nerves ablaze with something foreign, something insidious. His limbs were heavy, weighed down as though he had been wrapped in thick chains, yet the sensation of pressure against his skin remained sharp, undeniable. He could still feel the weight of Caesar pressing against him—casual, oppressive, as if he owned the very air around them.
Those piercing light blue eyes glinted with faint amusement, the color of frozen lakes under an unforgiving winter sky. He hated it. God, he hated it. Hated the way Caesar looked at him with that smirk—calculated, condescending, a predator sizing up its prey. Hated how his body, traitorous and sluggish, refused to obey his desperate attempts to move. Hated how, despite the fire raging inside him, he could do nothing but lie there beneath a man who had orchestrated his suffering from the shadows.
The revelation had hit him like a gut punch, leaving him reeling even as his body fought against the drug's effects. So, he really is Bes... The name had haunted him for so long, whispered in dark corners, etched into the very fabric of the nightmare he had been trying to escape. Bes Ilay Karpov-Troitsky. The mastermind. The ghost lurking behind the curtain, pulling the strings with cruel precision. He was real. He had always been real.
And yet, even with the truth staring him in the face, none of it made sense. If Caesar—no, Bes—had been orchestrating everything, if he had been pulling the strings from the very beginning, then why…?
Eun-jae forced his fingers to curl into fists against the silky sheets beneath him, the smooth fabric mocking his helplessness. He clenched his teeth, pushing past the haze, past the sluggishness of his limbs, past the dread curling in his stomach.
His voice came out hoarse, weak, barely above a whisper, but he forced the words out anyway.
"Why did you let me live?"
For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Then, slowly, deliberately, Caesar's smirk widened. His gaze darkened, amusement twisting into something more unreadable, something more cruel. He tilted his head, feigning curiosity, as if Eun-jae had just asked the most ridiculous thing in the world.
"Aww, sweetie," Caesar cooed, his voice drenched in saccharine condescension. "Don't flatter yourself."
Eun-jae's stomach twisted at the sickeningly sweet tone, at the way those words slithered over him like a snake tightening its coils. His breath hitched as Caesar leaned in closer, his presence suffocating, his warmth ghosting over his cheek—a stark contrast to the iciness in his gaze.
"You think you're special?" Caesar chuckled, low and mocking, the sound curling around him like smoke, intoxicating and venomous all at once. "That I spared you because you're important? Cute."
Eun-jae's body tensed. He wanted to fight back, wanted to strike, wanted to wipe that smirk off Caesar's face. But his limbs refused to cooperate, the heat in his system turning them to lead, making movement an impossibility.
Caesar saw it. Of course he did.
The smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew sharper.
"If you were truly a threat, I would've disposed of you ages ago," he continued, voice smooth, effortless, as if he wasn't discussing something as casual as murder. "But you? You're just a little distraction. A mildly amusing nuisance. Killing you would have been a waste of my time."
Eun-jae's breathing grew unsteady, anger simmering beneath the surface, colliding with the helplessness that clawed at his insides. He hated this feeling. Hated being at someone's mercy. Hated knowing that no matter how much he wanted to fight back, his body simply couldn't.
Caesar's grip on his chin was firm, almost possessive, as he tilted his head up, forcing their eyes to meet. Those glacial blue irises bore into him, devoid of warmth, devoid of anything remotely human.
"Or did you think you were some kind of protagonist in this little story?" Caesar sneered. "That you mattered? That you were significant?" He scoffed, shaking his head in mock pity. "How adorable."
Eun-jae's pulse thundered in his ears, loud and erratic, the sound almost deafening against the eerie quiet that had settled around them. He wanted to scream, wanted to do something, but all he could do was lie there, pinned under the weight of both Caesar's presence and his own uselessness.
The room felt suffocating. The walls felt like they were closing in, pressing against him, trapping him in this twisted reality where he was nothing but a pawn in someone else's game. His mind raced, grasping at anything—any possibility, any solution—but the haze made it impossible to think clearly, made everything feel slow, muted, wrong.
Caesar noticed. Of course he noticed.
"That drug was a nice touch, wasn't it?" he murmured, his fingers ghosting over Eun-jae's flushed skin, trailing lightly over the heat blooming across his face. "You should really be more careful, sweetheart. You're far too trusting."
Eun-jae swallowed hard, his throat dry, his thoughts spiraling. I'm not trusting. I'm not naive. I didn't— But none of that mattered now. Because he had been caught.
Caesar clicked his tongue, slow and deliberate, the sound slicing through the suffocating silence like a scalpel carving through flesh. The smirk on his lips deepened, his icy blue eyes glinting with that same sadistic amusement, the kind that made Eun-jae's skin crawl, made his stomach twist itself into knots even as he fought to keep his breathing steady.
"You are one lucky bastard, you know that?" Caesar mused, tilting his head slightly as if genuinely impressed. "After all that blasting, all those bullets flying—" He let out a low, satisfied hum, his fingers flexing as if reliving the chaos of the moment. "—and yet, you still managed to crawl out alive. Wow."
Eun-jae's body stiffened at the words. Every muscle in his body, every fiber of his being tensed, despite the drug still weighing him down like chains wrapped around his limbs. The haze in his mind wasn't strong enough to dull the raw, unrelenting rage now flooding through his veins.
"It was pretty entertaining," Caesar continued, voice laced with an almost childlike excitement. "Watching you struggle, seeing the way your body fought so desperately to keep going, to keep living..." He exhaled sharply, as if savoring the memory, as if drinking in the moment like the finest wine. His smirk twisted into something crueler, something darker. "Fuck, it turned me on every time."
A chill shot down Eun-jae's spine. His breath hitched involuntarily, the words crawling under his skin, sinking into his bones like a poison that refused to be purged. His eyes widened for the briefest moment before narrowing into a glare, his jaw locking so tightly that he could feel the tension radiating up to his temples. His fists curled, nails digging so deep into his palms that he could feel the sting, the faint warmth of blood welling at the creases of his fingers.
'In other words… I was just his plaything. He did all that just to fuck with me, just to see how much I could take before I broke.'
The thought sent a surge of white-hot fury through him, momentarily overpowering the sickening nausea curdling in his gut.
"You son of a bitch," Eun-jae snarled, voice low, guttural, thick with raw, unfiltered hatred.
Without thinking, without hesitating, he swung.
The motion was instinctual, a split-second reaction fueled by sheer rage, a desperate need to make Caesar feel even a fraction of the agony he had inflicted. His fist shot forward, aiming straight for that smug, infuriating grin, for the face that had haunted his nightmares, for the man who had orchestrated his suffering with the ease of a puppeteer controlling his marionette.
But Caesar was faster.
With terrifying ease, he caught Eun-jae's wrist mid-air, his fingers closing around it like a steel vice. The grip was unrelenting, his skin burning against Eun-jae's own.
His eyes darkened.
Then, slowly, his lips stretched into a wide, knowing grin.
"Predictable," Caesar murmured, almost like a sigh of disappointment.
Eun-jae barely had time to react before the punch landed.
The impact was brutal—like being struck with the full force of a sledgehammer. His head snapped to the side, pain detonating across his cheek like a flash of white-hot lightning. Stars burst behind his vision, the world spinning in dizzying circles as a sharp, coppery taste flooded his mouth.
"UGH—!!"
But Caesar wasn't done.
Before Eun-jae could even recover, another blow struck him—this time, the opposite side of his face. His body jerked violently, his brain rattling in his skull as pain flared through his jaw, as his ears rang from the sheer force of it.
A low, delighted chuckle filled the space between them.
Eun-jae's breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps. His body swayed slightly, the drug still weighing him down, making every movement sluggish, every attempt to fight back feel like he was drowning in quicksand. But he refused to give in.
He gritted his teeth, ignoring the taste of blood, ignoring the pounding ache in his skull, and tried to lurch forward. His fists swung, his body tensed, his instincts screamed at him to fight.
But it was pathetic.
Weak.
Caesar barely even acknowledged the attempt. If anything, his grin widened, amusement flickering in his sharp, ice-blue eyes.
"Come on, Eun-jae," he drawled, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. "Someone as difficult as you—" He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "—is making this way too easy for me."
And then, before Eun-jae could react, Caesar's fist drove into his stomach.
The pain was instant, sharp, and excruciating.
It was like all the air had been forced out of his lungs in one violent rush. His eyes widened, his entire body seizing as an uncontrollable spasm ran through him. The world tilted, his vision flickering in and out as his knees threatened to buckle beneath him.
Then, the worst part—
The overwhelming, suffocating sensation of not being able to breathe.
His lungs refused to work, his throat constricting as if an invisible force was crushing the very air out of him. He gasped, desperate, but nothing came.
A harsh, wet cough wracked his body, and then—
Blood.
Dark red splattered onto the sheets, hot and thick, dripping from his lips as his entire body trembled. His chest heaved, his muscles screaming for oxygen, but the pain—God, the pain—kept tightening, pressing down on him like an unbearable weight.
He needed to get out.
He needed to move.
But his limbs wouldn't cooperate.
His vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges, threatening to swallow him whole. His ears buzzed with a faint ringing, drowning out everything except the sound of his own ragged, failing breaths.
And then—
Another laugh.
Low.
Cruel.
Laced with pure, sadistic pleasure.
Caesar was enjoying this.
He was enjoying watching him suffer.
He wanted to survive.
Eun-jae barely managed to turn himself slightly, his body weak and trembling, his hands gripping the bed as he tried to crawl away. Every movement felt sluggish, like his limbs were weighed down by lead, as if his entire body had been shackled by an unseen force determined to drag him down. His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, his ribs aching with every inhale, the pain sharp and unrelenting, a cruel reminder of just how fragile he was in this moment.
His vision swam, unfocused and blurry, the dim lighting of the room casting eerie, twisting shadows along the walls. The corners of his sight darkened, his mind barely processing the shapes around him. He didn't care—he just needed to move. To get away. To put as much distance between himself and Caesar as humanly possible.
But he never got the chance.
A brutal force seized him, flipping him onto his back as if he weighed nothing, his already bruised body slamming into the mattress beneath him. A rush of pain exploded through his spine, his nerves screaming in protest. Before he could even react—before he could even gasp—a crushing grip latched onto his throat.
Caesar.
His fingers clamped down with an iron-like strength, squeezing relentlessly, unyielding. A force that was absolute. His palm was hot against Eun-jae's skin, his grip a vice that threatened to crush his windpipe with terrifying ease. The pressure was suffocating, oppressive, an unrelenting force that made every fiber of Eun-jae's body scream in protest.
Instinct took over. His hands shot up, clawing desperately at Caesar's fingers, nails digging deep, scratching, scraping, drawing blood. But it didn't matter. Caesar didn't even flinch. His grip didn't falter, his fingers like unbreakable steel wrapped around Eun-jae's throat, tightening, tightening—
"Kugh... kegh—" Eun-jae's mouth opened, but no sound came out, only a broken wheeze.
'I... I can't breathe...'
His vision blurred further, spots dancing across his eyes, the dimly lit room fading in and out. The air in his lungs was dwindling, the world around him closing in like a vice. His chest convulsed in panic, every cell in his body screaming for oxygen, his heart pounding so violently it felt like it might burst right out of his ribcage. The sound of his own heartbeat drummed loudly in his ears, drowning out everything else.
He needed air. He needed to fight.
Desperation clawed at his mind, his body acting on pure survival instinct. He swung his fist, putting every last ounce of strength he had left into the strike, aiming straight for Caesar's wrist. The impact was weak, barely even noticeable. Useless. A pathetic attempt against a man who was built like a monster.
And Caesar proved that.
A brutal punch landed against Eun-jae's chest.
The force of it was devastating. A full-body, bone-crushing impact that felt like being struck by a sledgehammer at full force.
"—Hic."
Eun-jae's eyes snapped wide open, his entire body seizing up as pain detonated through him like an explosion. His ribs screamed in agony, a sharp, unbearable pain ripping through his torso. His lungs locked up, his body refusing to obey his desperate attempts to breathe. The air was forced from his lungs in one violent rush, leaving him gasping—no, struggling—for any fragment of oxygen he could possibly grasp onto.
It felt like drowning.
Like being held underwater, his limbs thrashing, his lungs burning, his chest tightening with each desperate attempt to reach the surface. But there was no surface. No escape. Just the crushing weight of Caesar's presence, pressing down on him like an inescapable force, like an executioner deciding whether or not to let his victim live.
His fingers trembled against Caesar's hand, still weakly trying to pry him off, but it was futile.
His vision darkened further, the edges fading into an abyssal black.
Was this it?
'Is this how I die? In the hands of this psychopath?'
A terrifying thought.
His mind began to slow, the lack of oxygen making his thoughts sluggish, hazy. His limbs felt heavier, the fight in them dulling by the second. He could barely make out Caesar's expression anymore—only the faint, ominous gleam of amusement in those cold, blue eyes. That look... that smirk... that quiet, detached pleasure in watching someone struggle, watching them suffer.
'I don't want to die. Not like this...'
He tried to move again, but his body refused. His lungs burned like fire, his throat convulsing around nothing, his pulse slowing. His thoughts slipped, fragmented, unraveling like loose threads in the wind.
Then, through the haze, something surfaced in his mind.
A memory.
A conversation.
It had happened weeks ago, back when things were... normal.
Caesar's voice echoed in his head, dark and taunting, yet eerily matter-of-fact.
"You know, Bes—which means 'demon'—wasn't just some nickname someone randomly threw at him. It was a title. A crown forged from the screams of the men he's butchered over the years. Because that's what he is."
Eun-jae had listened back then, but he hadn't understood the full weight of those words. Not until now.
Caesar's smirk had been different then—not warm, not friendly. Cold. Detached. Amused, yes—but cold.
"A demon."
A chill crept up Eun-jae's spine.
Not just at the word itself—but at the truth behind it. The finality.
"There's an old saying about him," Caesar had continued, his voice lowering, like he was revealing something sacred. Something lethal.
"If you see Bes once, you're lucky. If you see him twice, you should start praying. If you see him a third time... well, you won't live long enough to tell the story."
Eun-jae had swallowed hard back then.
Because that saying? It wasn't just a rumor.
He had been so blind.
'So he literally introduced himself to me... and I was too stupid to realize the criminal was right in front of my eyes this whole time.'
Something in him cracked at the thought.
A breathless, broken sound bubbled up in his throat. At first, it was just a quiet exhale—then it grew into a chuckle.
Then another.
Soft at first. But then it became something more.
A snicker. A bitter, almost delirious laugh.
"Pfft—"