codename: Seraphim

Sasha's voice cut through Beom's thoughts, quiet but resolute. "If we find it, Beom, we can't let it stay in circulation. No copies, no leaks. Either we take him down with it… or we destroy it."

Beom's gaze returned to the window, the city passing by in a blur as he tried to process it all. The stakes were higher than he'd realized, the danger more real. They weren't just going up against Yaroslav—they were confronting the very heart of his empire. And one misstep could cost them everything.

Beom and Sasha stepped into the café, the warm, fragrant air of coffee and baked pastries contrasting with the chill they had just left outside. The place wasn't crowded, and the atmosphere was calm, with a few people scattered at tables, sipping their morning drinks and reading newspapers. Beom's eyes scanned the room, searching for the person they'd come to meet. Finally, he spotted her—a woman sitting quietly in a corner, her eyes cast downward as if she were lost in her own thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, Beom walked over to her with Sasha following. He felt a mix of anticipation and caution; he wasn't sure how much Merlin knew or what she would be willing to reveal. He greeted her with a polite, "Hello, good morning." Merlin looked up, her expression shifting as she recognized they were there to speak with her. She nodded, a bit apprehensive but willing to listen, and agreed to lead them to a quieter table at the far end of the café.

Once seated, Merlin folded her hands in front of her, her gaze dropping to the table, as though steeling herself for whatever was about to be discussed. "So, what do you want to talk about?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with curiosity and a hint of nervousness.

Beom leaned forward slightly. "We're investigators," he explained, choosing his words carefully. "And we heard that you once worked for the Vyshnevsky family… as their nanny."

At the mention of the family's name, her face paled visibly. She glanced around the café nervously, her fingers twisting together as she leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Why… why are you talking about them? Those people… they're terrifying. Dangerous."

Sasha took over, his tone calm but firm. "We're here for answers, ma'am. We know they're… intimidating, but any information you can share would be greatly appreciated."

Merlin sighed, glancing away as if weighing her options. Finally, after a long pause, she nodded. "Okay… what do you want to know?"

"Everything you can tell us," Beom said, leaning in a bit closer. "Were you the nanny of Yaroslav Olegovich Vyshnevsky?"

She shook her head, relief flickering across her face. "No, not Yaroslav. When I was there, he hadn't been born yet. I was responsible for his older brothers and his twin sisters." Her voice softened, her eyes darkening as she spoke. There was an unspoken heaviness in her tone, as though she were recalling memories she wished she could forget.

Sasha tilted his head, curiosity sharpening his gaze. "The two older brothers, Maksim and Vanya?"

"Yes," she confirmed, lowering her voice even further. "Maksim was the firstborn. After their mother died, the father remarried, and that's when Vanya and his sisters came along… and then Yaroslav." She paused, seeming to shiver at the memory. "Maksim… he's just like his father. Cold. Ruthless. I saw… things. Things no one should ever have to see. That family… they were like demons on earth."

As she spoke, Sasha simply sat back, scratching his ear in a casual motion, though his eyes never left her face, taking in every detail she provided.

Beom, meanwhile, felt a wave of disbelief and unease wash over him. This family really is full of murderers and mafias, he thought to himself, the pieces of the picture falling into place in his mind.

He took a steadying breath and asked, "Do you know where the Vyshnevsky mansion is located?"

Merlin nodded, her voice just above a whisper. "Yes… it's located at…"

But before she could finish, Beom's phone rang, vibrating insistently in his pocket. He glanced down, surprised to see his mother's name flashing on the screen. The timing was unexpected, and though he felt a twinge of guilt for not having called her sooner, he knew he couldn't ignore her call now.

Beom stepped outside the café, cradling the phone close to his ear as his mother's warm, familiar voice filled the line.

"Oh, my baby, how are you doing?" she asked, the concern and affection unmistakable in her tone.

He couldn't help but smile, her voice a comfort that felt worlds away from the intense, cold mission he was on. "I'm fine, Eomma. What about you?" he replied, keeping his voice steady, hoping she couldn't sense the tension lurking underneath.

"I'm good, my son," she reassured him gently. "I hope you're eating well."

A soft chuckle escaped him as he glanced around, noting Sasha stepping out of the café with a quick, subtle hand gesture, signaling he needed to grab something from the car. Beom gave a small nod of acknowledgment, holding the phone a bit closer as he refocused on his mother. "Yes, Mama, I'm eating well."

"Good, good. You should eat well and stay strong for your mama, okay?" she replied, her voice filled with that familiar warmth and love that only a mother could offer.

"Yes, Eomma," Beom said softly, savoring the brief but comforting exchange. They spoke for a few more moments, her words wrapping around him like a warm blanket, grounding him in memories of home. But as the call came to a close, he felt a familiar pang of homesickness settle in. Reluctantly, he ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket and feeling the weight of reality return.

With a steadying breath, Beom turned to head back inside the café, his mind already slipping back into the mission at hand. But before he could take a step, an ear-splitting, thunderous blast ripped through the air.

BOOM!

The sound was deafening, a violent roar that seemed to tear through everything in its path. Beom's entire body was thrown backward by the sheer force of the explosion, the shockwave slamming into him like a physical wall. He barely registered what was happening before he felt himself propelled through the air, weightless and out of control. The world around him spun, blurring into a chaotic mess of colors and sounds.

The blast's shockwave sent shards of glass and fragments of debris flying in all directions, the intense heat of the explosion scorching the air. In that split second, the force threw him with terrifying strength, his body crashing against the windshield of a parked car nearby. The impact was brutal—pain shot through him as his body collided with the hard glass, spiderweb cracks spreading across the windshield from where he hit. The blow left him disoriented, his vision blurring and his ears ringing from the overwhelming noise.

For a moment, everything was muted, the ringing in his ears drowning out the sounds around him. His head throbbed, and his thoughts were a foggy, incoherent mess, only able to process the intense shock and the fiery chaos now erupting around him. Flames surged from the café, thick black smoke billowing up into the sky, filling the air with a harsh, acrid smell.

The world around him came into focus, and with it came the harsh realization—he'd just narrowly escaped what could have been his last breath. He struggled to sit up, every movement sending fresh waves of pain through his body, as he watched the devastation in front of him. The café, where he'd just been moments ago, was now a raging inferno, debris scattered across the street, shattered glass littering the ground.

"Sa… Sasha…" he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. Panic gripped him as he scanned the scene, searching for any sign of his friend amidst the chaos. His heart pounded wildly, fear and adrenaline surging through him as he tried to push past the pain.

People were beginning to scream, some rushing toward the scene while others fled in terror. Emergency sirens wailed in the distance, a harsh reminder of the destruction that had just occurred. Beom's mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. The blast had been powerful, too powerful—it wasn't an accident. Someone had targeted them.

"Sa... Sasha…" Beom rasped, his voice broken and weak, his body racked with coughing as he staggered forward, fighting through the smoke and swirling ash. Pain shot through his ribs with every step, but he forced himself onward, his vision blurred and teary. His only thought was Sasha—his partner might still be trapped inside that inferno.

"Sasha might be inside…" he repeated in his head, a single determination pounding through the haze of his thoughts. Desperation pushed him as he staggered closer, eyes locked on the blazing café, shouting Sasha's name into the chaos. Flames roared, their heat searing, and he barely felt the ache in his own muscles, ignoring the glass embedded in his skin, the blood trickling down his face.

Suddenly, a stronger arm grabbed him from behind, yanking him back with force. He stumbled, his heart racing as he spun around, prepared to resist—but then he froze.

"Sasha!" Beom gasped, barely able to believe his eyes. Relief surged through him, but he struggled to process it, his mind still reeling from the blast.

"Are you insane?" Sasha barked, his voice rough but unmistakable, cutting through the lingering chaos. "What were you trying to do, running into a fire?"

Beom's eyes widened, taking in the sight of Sasha standing there, alive. "Sasha… is that really… you?" He blinked, exhaustion overtaking him. "I thought you were d—"

But before he could finish, darkness closed in, and his knees buckled. The world went black, his consciousness slipping away in the wake of pure exhaustion and pain.

Sasha watched him collapse, his expression shifting as he studied the unconscious form sprawled at his feet. A strange, unreadable look flickered across his face, cold and calculating. Without another word, he crouched down, grabbed Beom's limp body, and lifted him, slinging him over his shoulder. He carried him toward his car, his movements smooth, precise, with a purpose that suggested something deeper, something unsettling.

He reached the vehicle, opening the back door and unceremoniously dropping Beom onto the back seat with a thud, the sound echoing in the silence. For a moment, Sasha just stood there, staring down at Beom's unconscious face, his eyes tracing over the cuts and bruises, taking in the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

A small, almost mocking chuckle escaped Sasha's lips, a sound so out of place it seemed to hang in the air. Slowly, he lowered himself to Beom's level, his gaze intense, his face shadowed with an expression of dark satisfaction. He reached down, his fingers twisting through Beom's hair, gripping it tightly, pulling his head back just enough to see his face.

"Lucky bastard," he muttered, his voice a low, sinister whisper. "You were supposed to die in there… with Merlin. But here you are, alive." A twisted grin curled across his lips as he took in the irony, the bitterness lacing his words. Sasha released his grip on Beom's hair, letting his head fall back limply against the seat.

He leaned back, his eyes sharp and filled with something dark and calculated. "I could kill you right here, mummy's boy," he thought to himself, a smirk flickering across his lips as he let the threat linger in his mind, savoring the power he held in that moment. But he held back, letting the silence speak his intent, the quiet that followed brimming with unsaid words and hidden malice.

"No…" he thought with a cold, almost gleeful resolve. "I don't want to kill you just yet. I want to see how far you'll go, how desperate you'll become to find my code… to unravel the secrets I've buried so deep."