The city above pulsed with neon and noise, but down here, in the narrow arteries that ran beneath Seoul's glittering skin, the world felt cold and tight. Lin moved with the precision of someone who had memorized the map of every shadow. The scout's wrists were bound with a length of wire Keller had stripped from a busted light fixture, and each time he struggled, the metal bit deeper into his skin.

"Move," Keller growled, shoving the man forward with the barrel of his gun pressed against his back. "One more wrong step, and you'll be painting the wall."

The scout spat blood onto the cracked pavement. Even beaten and bruised, he carried himself with an edge of arrogance. His eyes flicked between them, sharp and calculating. He was no ordinary runner; Jin had chosen him for a reason.

Min-joon trailed behind, his breath uneven. His hands shook, not from exhaustion but from the memory of the chase. He was unused to the raw closeness of violence—the kind that left blood steaming on the pavement and footsteps echoing in alleys. He clutched his side where a near miss had torn through his jacket.

Lin noticed, but he said nothing. Silence was his shield, and he wore it like armor. Words wasted energy, and right now energy was survival.

They turned into a side street, narrow enough that their shoulders brushed the walls. At the end, tucked behind rusted metal gates and discarded crates, stood an abandoned goshiwon—a single-room lodging once meant for the city's poorest students. The windows were blacked out, the building forgotten. Perfect.

Lin pushed the gate open with a low screech of rust. The air inside smelled of mildew and stale cigarette smoke. The walls were stained with years of neglect. Dust coated the floor like snow, disturbed only by the footprints they left as they moved deeper inside.

"Sit him down," Lin ordered, his voice quiet but firm.

Keller shoved the scout into a corner, where he landed hard on the concrete floor. The man coughed, laughing bitterly as he leaned against the peeling wallpaper.

"You think dragging me here makes you safe?" His Korean carried a Seoul accent, sharp and cutting. "Jin already knows where you are. Every street you walk, every shadow you hide in—it all belongs to him."

Keller's fist crashed into his jaw before Lin could stop him. The scout slumped sideways, groaning.

"Talk like that again, and you'll be chewing your words through broken teeth," Keller hissed. His eyes burned with frustration, the adrenaline of the chase not yet drained from his veins.

Lin raised a hand, stopping Keller from striking again. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze was fixed on the scout. Calm, calculating.

"We don't need threats," Lin said coldly. "We need information. And he'll give it."

Min-joon hovered near the doorway, as if ready to bolt at any moment. The goshiwon felt too small, too suffocating for him. He kept glancing at the window, at the cracks in the walls where city noise bled through. His nerves were stretched to breaking.

"Hyung…" Min-joon's voice was thin. "What if he's telling the truth? What if they already know we're here?"

Lin turned toward him, his eyes narrowing. "Then we move before they arrive. But first, we get what we came for."

He crouched in front of the scout, who lifted his head slowly, blood on his lips but a crooked grin on his face.

"You think Jin sent me just to chase you? No. He sent me to watch. To measure. He wants to know how far you'll go."

"Then start answering," Lin replied, his tone even. "Why Incheon? Why the files?"

The scout chuckled, a hollow sound in the cramped room. "Always straight to the point. That's why he hates you. Jin respects the game, the dance. You just cut through the music."

Keller's patience snapped again. He slammed his boot into the scout's ribs, drawing a sharp cry of pain. "Stop wasting time!"

But Lin held up his hand once more. His voice dropped lower, colder. "He wants us to run to Incheon. Why?"

The scout's grin faltered, just for a second. His eyes darted toward Min-joon, then back to Lin. "Because the real leak isn't in Incheon. It's here. Seoul. Someone close to you. Someone you trust."

The words hung in the stale air like smoke. Min-joon stiffened, his eyes widening. Keller cursed under his breath.

Lin's face didn't change, but inside, something twisted. A single ripple across an otherwise calm surface.

"You're lying," Lin said flatly.

"Am I?" The scout leaned forward, his grin returning, blood staining his teeth. "Think about it. How else did Jin know your movements in the tunnels? How else did he know to send me here, at this time, on this street? He doesn't need maps or drones. He has a voice in your ear. One you've already welcomed."

Min-joon's breathing grew louder, faster. "He's trying to divide us," he said quickly, looking at Lin. "Hyung, don't listen. It's what they do."

But Keller's expression hardened. His gaze shifted to Min-joon, suspicion flickering across his face. "Unless he's right."

Min-joon recoiled as if struck. "What? You think it's me? After everything?"

"Shut it," Lin snapped, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. "We don't fracture. Not here. Not now."

The scout laughed again, softer this time, as if savoring the cracks forming in their unity. "You don't need me to tear you apart. You'll do it yourselves."

Lin stared at him, silent, letting the weight of the moment settle. Then, without warning, he pressed the edge of his knife against the man's throat. The laughter died instantly.

"Give me a name," Lin said, his voice low, lethal.

The scout swallowed, his grin finally fading into something closer to fear. His lips parted as if to speak—

—and then Keller's head snapped toward the window.

"Movement."

Min-joon froze. "What?"

Lin glanced at the narrow gap in the boarded-up window. The faintest shadow flickered past, too deliberate to be a trick of the light.

The scout chuckled weakly, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. "Told you… they already know."

Sirens wailed in the distance. Tires screeched against pavement. The city's pulse quickened, and with it, the fragile moment of stillness shattered.

Lin's knife pressed harder against the man's throat. For a second, the only sound was the scout's ragged breathing.

"Hyung…" Min-joon whispered, voice trembling. "They've found us."

Keller tightened his grip on his gun, jaw set. "Then we finish this fast."

Lin's eyes stayed locked on the scout, cold and unblinking. "No. We move. But he comes with us."

The scout's smile returned, faint but mocking, even as the wire dug deeper into his wrists. "Run all you want. Jin's already waiting."

Outside, footsteps echoed against the wet concrete streets. Shadows gathered.

The hunt was closing in.