Chapter 27
The office was quiet, but the stillness carried pressure instead of peace. The low hum of the air conditioning drifted through the room, mixing with the faint scent of polished wood and old coffee. Gyu In leaned over the files spread across his desk, eyes tracking the maze of shell companies, shipment logs and photographs that felt too out of place to be coincidences. Every connection demanded his attention. Every anomaly felt like a thread that could unravel something much larger.
He did not speak. He barely moved. Only his mind worked, sharp and restless, mapping possibilities and predicting consequences. The longer he stared at the data, the closer the danger felt. It pressed into the room, quiet but heavy.
His phone vibrated once. A soft chime cut through the silence.
A message from Ryu Chan: encrypted frames, timestamps, digital crumbs that only made sense when assembled in the right order.
He opened them slowly. Grainy images filled the screen. The man in the cap. Eun Bin. Their subtle gestures, their shared glances, the way she leaned in as if she trusted him more than she trusted anyone inside MUTE.
Gyu In's fingers hovered over the screen. Act now or wait. Move without full information or delay and risk losing the chance entirely. His jaw tightened. Acting blind would be reckless. Waiting would be worse.
Another thought flickered at the back of his mind. In Hwa and Yoon Su's proposal. Clean on the surface but dirty underneath. A path he could step into if he wanted to play their game. Or a trap that would lock the moment he placed one foot inside. He pushed it away. These files mattered more. The shadows outside would have to wait.
He typed a reply to Ryu Chan, precise and sharp, listing coordinates, camera points and personnel to flag. Then he leaned back in his chair, gaze drifting to the windows. The city stretched far beyond the glass, restless and bright. He was already imagining the routes he might take tonight. The backup plans. The exits.
A light knock broke his focus.
Hae Won's voice slipped through the door, low and careful.
"Sir Kim, the review is in an hour. Director Park is asking for your security briefing beforehand."
Gyu In lifted his gaze for a moment. "I will see him. Later."
His attention returned to the files immediately. He could not move blindly into MUTE tonight. Not without understanding the pieces on the board.
Hae Won stood there a moment longer, debating whether to say more, then stepped out quietly.
Once the office door clicked shut, the silence settled again. Gyu In's eyes returned to the grainy footage, to the shipping records, to the names that repeated too many times to be accidents. Each shadow on the screen was a choice waiting for him to make it. And the one he was about to pick would take him deeper than he had ever gone.
Tonight, he would move.
And every second from now until then mattered.
*
Ryu Chan's room looked nothing like a place meant for living. It was a cramped command center built out of instinct and obsession, overflowing with screens, wires, empty snack wrappers and half-finished cups of coffee. The glow from the monitors washed the room in pale blue light, carving shadows across his face and catching the tired focus in his eyes. He had been at this for hours, maybe longer, but time blurred when he was in this state.
His fingers moved quickly over the keyboard, fast and precise, pulling together feeds that should never have been connected. Security cameras. Shipment logs. Social media noise. Everything clicked into place as he wove the information into a web only he understood. The man in the cap. Eun Bin. The blurry frames. The subtle, almost secretive way she leaned toward him. Something was there, something quiet but important.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Well. Someone thinks he can be careful," he muttered, mostly to keep himself awake.
He traced the patterns deeper, following digital footprints that led to Chungho Logistics. Their records were spotless. Too spotless. Every document looked clean enough to pass inspection. Yet tiny inconsistencies appeared if one stared long enough. A shipment logged a minute too early. A payment routed through a name that repeated in the wrong places. Enough to make him sit up a little straighter.
"Great," he murmured, tapping a pencil lightly against his temple. "Everything about this screams trouble. And of course Gyu In is walking straight into it."
He packaged the files neatly, encryption layered over encryption, and sent them to Gyu In without leaving a trace. Then he stayed still for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of the monitors, as if waiting for them to speak back.
But the patterns continued to shift. Guards changing positions earlier than scheduled. A camera angle tilted just slightly off its original alignment. Someone inside MUTE was anticipating movements, reacting to things before they were supposed to happen.
Ryu Chan narrowed his eyes.
"So someone else is playing this game too," he said under his breath.
His gaze drifted back to the frames of Eun Bin with the man in the cap. Not a casual meeting. Not a coincidence. Whoever the man was, he was connected to a larger movement beneath the surface.
A brief flicker of unease crept into Ryu Chan's chest. If Eun Bin trusted the wrong person, or if that trust was being used against her, everything could unravel before Gyu In even stepped inside the club. But uncertainty was useless. All he could do was track movements in the dark and hand Gyu In every advantage he could.
He leaned forward again, posture sharpening, fingers hovering above the keys.
The board was shifting.
The pieces were already moving.
And he would make sure Gyu In went in with every shadow mapped before the night began to burn.
*
The street was slick from the earlier rain, neon signs reflecting like fractured glass in the puddles. Gyu In leaned against the wall across from MUTE, coat collar pulled high, eyes scanning the entrance and side alleys. His fingers flexed around the edge of his coat pocket, tension coiled beneath the calm surface.
Two days. That was how long the man in the cap had lingered around this block. Never long, never careless, always just enough to be seen. Intentional. Testing boundaries. Tonight, Gyu In would see for himself.
"Gyu In."
Eun Wol's voice cut through the hum of the city, sharp as a blade. Irritation wrapped in syllables. He stomped closer, water dripping from his coat, each step heavier than the last. "What the hell are you doing?"
Gyu In's eyes flicked toward him for just a fraction of a second—a subtle lift of the brow, the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth. How did he find me here? The thought flared and vanished. No reaction given freely. Outwardly, his posture remained relaxed, casual, every muscle braced.
"Testing the water," he said smoothly, eyes still on the alley. The vagueness was deliberate. A boundary left for Eun Wol to interpret.
"Testing?" Eun Wol scoffed, stopping beside him. Their sleeves brushed, a brief contact that made Gyu In's shoulder twitch almost imperceptibly. "You call standing out here like some shadowy vigilante minimal exposure?" He peered down the alley. "Let me handle this."
"I don't need you to handle anything," Gyu In replied evenly, voice low, calm. A deliberate slow pour to temper Eun Wol's fire. His jaw clenched subtly.
"I'm not letting you do this alone!" Eun Wol snapped, chest tightening, his sister's face pressing on his mind like a weight.
Gyu In finally turned, eyebrow arched. "And I am not letting you run in blindly. Stay back."
Restraint hung in his tone.
A figure slipped from the alley at that moment. The man in the cap moving with smooth, measured ease, oblivious to them. Gyu In's pulse tightened. Eun Wol's muscles coiled.
"There!" Eun Wol hissed. "That's him. Let's move!"
"No." Gyu In grabbed his arm before he could take a step. His grip was firm, decisive. "Wait. Observe. Plan."
"Plan?" Eun Wol pulled free, heat flaring in his veins. "The plan is to stop him now!"
"Stop him?" Gyu In's voice rose slightly, incredulous. "You don't even know what he's capable of. One wrong step and—"
"Don't act like I don't understand! She's my sister! Why would I sabotage her safety?" The last word cracked, rawer than anger.
For a beat, the world narrowed to just their voices. Pavement gleaming beneath them, rain dripping from awnings, traffic humming somewhere distant. Gyu In's skin prickled, goosebumps rising against the damp. Eun Wol's fists curled and loosened, breath uneven.
"You're impossible," Gyu In snapped, stepping closer, balls of his feet pressing into the slick pavement, patience shattering into sharp fragments.
"And you're a damn control freak!" Eun Wol shot back, moving forward, shoulders coiled. Half anger, half desperation, the urge to act nearly making him stumble over puddles.
"I was making sure you're safe!" Heat flared along Gyu In's ribs, irritation threading his words.
"I am not the one putting her at risk!"
Shoves, gestures, voices overlapping like sparks in the rain. Gyu In's shoulder brushed Eun Wol's. Eun Wol's fingers caught briefly on Gyu In's sleeve. Small contacts, charged and fleeting.
And then….. gone.
The shadowed figure in the cap slipped down a side path, disappearing into the night.
No sound. No warning. Just… vanished.
Eun Wol froze, chest heaving, water dripping from his hair into his eyes. "What the hell just happened?"
Gyu In exhaled slowly, jaw tight. "We argued."
"We… argued?" Eun Wol repeated, incredulous. Realization hit him like a blow. "You mean we lost him because of your idiocy?!"
A faint smirk tugged at Gyu In's lips, half-annoyance, half disbelief. "Our. Congratulations, genius. Two cats, one rat, zero results." He shifted weight, boots squeaking on the wet asphalt.
Eun Wol groaned, dragging a hand through his wet hair, fingertips pressing into his scalp.
"Perfect. Just perfect. We could have had him."
"Yes, if one of us had shut up," Gyu In muttered, scanning the alley again, measuring escape routes.
For a moment, they just stared at the dark alley, soaked, frustrated, alive with tension. The target gone, but the fight between them just beginning.
Eun Wol kicked a puddle, water splashing onto his boots, chest heaving, droplets scattering over his pants. "I can't believe this," he muttered, voice tight with frustration.
"We were right there! And you had to be all… calculating and annoying."
Gyu In leaned back against the wall, arms folded, expression neutral but a corner of his mouth twitched, a faint, contained smirk. "Calculating and annoying? That's a generous summary of my method."
"You call doing nothing a method?" Eun Wol gestured toward the empty alley. "He's gone. Gone!"
"And yet," Gyu In murmured, tilting his head slightly, "now we know he moves fast, avoids confrontation, and doesn't stick around when two cats start squabbling. Some progress."
Eun Wol buried his face in his hands. "Progress? Progress is catching him!"
Gyu In stepped closer, boots splashing softly. "If you hadn't been ready to throw yourself at him, maybe he'd have stayed longer. But hey, you vented. That counts."
Eun Wol peeked through his fingers. "You're impossible."
"And yet I'm still ahead of you in patience," Gyu In replied, voice softening just slightly.
Eun Wol stomped down the street, muttering curses.
"The car's the other way~" Gyu In called casually.
Eun Wol shot him a glare but didn't slow. Gyu In followed, silent now, already reconstructing the man's escape paths in his head.
He'll be back. People like that always circle around.