CHAPTER 169: CHAPTER 169: THE TRAP WITHIN

The air inside the building was stale and heavy, filled with the faint tang of dust and metal. Lin’s boots pressed carefully against the cracked linoleum as he led Keller, Min-joon, and their bound prisoner deeper into the abandoned office block. Every step echoed faintly, bouncing off peeling walls and broken glass panes. It was a silence designed to suffocate, broken only by the rasping breaths of men who knew their lives dangled on a thin thread.

The scout, hands tied and mouth twisted into a grin, broke that silence.

"You feel it, don’t you?" His voice was low, teasing. "This place isn’t just abandoned. It’s alive. Jin built it for you."

Keller shoved him forward, forcing the man to stumble. "Keep moving, rat, before I put a bullet in your spine."

But the scout only laughed, that unsettling grin widening. "Bullets won’t save you here. Every hallway, every stairwell... he planned them all. You can’t escape. Not unless he allows it."

Lin said nothing, though his jaw tightened. His instincts told him the prisoner wasn’t lying. This building was too quiet, too deliberate. The broken windows, the flickering exit signs, the faint hum in the walls—none of it felt accidental.

Min-joon shifted uneasily behind him. "Hyung... maybe we should—"

"Stay close," Lin interrupted, his voice sharp. "And don’t speak unless you have to. The more noise we make, the easier it is for him to track us."

They moved cautiously into the next corridor. The hall was long and narrow, ceiling lights hanging by loose wires. Keller’s flashlight beam swept across the floor, catching thin strands of wire stretched just above the dust. Tripwires.

"Stop." Lin raised his hand. His eyes followed the wires to the walls, where small black boxes had been taped in place—charges, crude but lethal. One wrong move and the whole hallway would go up.

"Jesus Christ," Keller muttered, sweat gleaming on his forehead. "He rigged the whole damn place."

The scout chuckled. "Rigged? No... sculpted. Every path here tells you a story. Every trap pushes you where Jin wants you to go. Haven’t you figured it out? You’re not escaping—you’re being guided."

Lin turned, glaring into the prisoner’s eyes. "And where exactly is he guiding us?"

The scout tilted his head. "To him."

They skirted carefully along the wall, avoiding the wires. Lin crouched low, guiding Min-joon’s steps. The boy’s breath shook as he followed each instruction, his eyes wide in the dim light. Keller brought up the rear, gun fixed firmly on the scout.

When they reached the end of the hallway, Lin paused at the stairwell door. The rusted handle groaned softly under his grip, a sound that made his stomach tighten.

He opened it slowly.

The stairwell spiraled downward into darkness. A single emergency light flickered weakly halfway down, casting uneven shadows on the cracked concrete.

Lin didn’t like it. Everything about this felt too easy, too obvious. "He wants us going down," Lin said quietly.

Keller spat on the floor. "Then maybe we go up."

The scout shook his head, smiling. "Upstairs is worse. Trust me."

"Shut up," Keller snapped, shoving him toward the stairs.

Lin thought quickly. Jin was funneling them down, probably toward the ground floor where an ambush would be waiting. But staying here wasn’t an option either—the building was wired to blow. Every second spent debating was another second Jin’s men could close in.

"Down," Lin decided finally. "Careful, one at a time. Watch for wires on the rails."

They descended slowly. The air grew colder, damper. Somewhere in the walls, water dripped steadily, echoing in the silence.

Halfway down, Min-joon froze. "Hyung... the step."

Lin’s eyes snapped to where the boy pointed. One stair tile was a different shade, slightly raised at the edge. Pressure plate.

"Good eyes," Lin murmured, guiding Min-joon around it. "Don’t touch that."

Keller growled under his breath. "This whole place is a f***ing coffin."

The scout grinned wider. "Not a coffin. A stage."

When they reached the second floor landing, Lin pushed the door open cautiously. The space beyond was a gutted office. Rows of cubicles sat half-destroyed, their partitions broken, papers strewn across the dusty floor. The air smelled faintly of burnt plastic.

Keller stepped in first, sweeping the area with his gun. "Clear—"

A sharp click echoed.

Everyone froze.

From the far wall, a small red light blinked to life. Then another. And another.

Explosives.

"Back! Move back!" Lin shouted. He grabbed Min-joon, dragging him toward the doorway. Keller yanked the scout with him, nearly throwing the man into the stairwell.

The charge didn’t fully detonate—just a sharp, concussive boom that blew out part of the wall. Debris crashed down, sending dust and shards of plaster raining over them. The stairwell shook violently, a section of concrete railing collapsing into the black void below.

Lin coughed hard, his lungs burning with dust. He looked up, eyes narrowing. That explosion hadn’t been meant to kill them. It had been meant to herd them further down.

Keller swore loudly. "He’s f***ing toying with us!"

"Exactly," the scout whispered, grinning through bloodied lips. "He wants you afraid. Wants you to understand who’s in control."

Lin’s patience snapped. He seized the prisoner by the collar, slamming him against the stairwell wall. "You think this is a game?!" he snarled. "Tell me where the control point is—where Jin is running this from—before I break your neck."

The scout’s eyes gleamed. "Break it then. Jin will still find you. He always finds you."

For a moment, Lin considered it. One twist, one crunch, and this smug pawn would be gone. But killing him wouldn’t stop the trap. Wouldn’t stop Jin.

Lin released him roughly. "Keep moving."

They descended further. The stairwell grew darker, the emergency lights weaker. On the next floor down, the door was chained shut from the outside. No exit. On the floor after that, the handle was coated with something sticky and black—likely tar mixed with accelerant. Touch it and it would ignite.

It was all pushing them toward the ground floor.

By the time they reached it, Lin’s muscles were taut, his nerves stretched to breaking. The final door loomed in front of them—metal, dented, faint light glowing through the cracks at the edges.

Beyond it, faint voices echoed. Boots shifting. The low rumble of engines outside.

Lin understood immediately. Jin’s men were waiting.

"We’re boxed in," Keller muttered, raising his gun. "Tell me we’re not walking straight into this."

Lin’s jaw clenched. "We don’t have a choice."

The scout laughed softly. "That’s the beauty of it. You never did."

Then, from hidden speakers overhead, a voice filled the stairwell. Calm. Smooth. Icy.

"Lin," Jin said.

Everyone froze.

"You’ve done well," Jin continued. His voice echoed in the darkness, almost conversational. "Most wouldn’t have made it this far. But then, you’re not like most, are you? You’re like me. Always clawing, always calculating. You understand the game."

Lin’s fists tightened. "You call this a game?"

"It’s always been a game," Jin replied. "And you’ve played beautifully. But the final move is mine."

A sound cut through the stairwell—a rapid beep-beep-beep. Louder. Faster.

Min-joon’s face went pale. "Hyung... the bombs."

Lin’s eyes darted upward. Tiny red lights flickered along the walls. Charges embedded in the concrete.

The entire building was primed to blow.

"Door, now!" Lin roared. He threw his shoulder against the metal exit, the impact echoing like thunder. Keller joined him, slamming the butt of his gun into the handle. It groaned, buckled, but held.

The beeping grew louder, faster.

The scout began laughing wildly. "Too late! Too late! He already won!"

Keller’s rage exploded—he shoved the muzzle of his gun into the prisoner’s mouth, ready to pull the trigger.

But Lin shouted over the chaos: "No! We need him alive!"

The door creaked under their combined force. The beeping became a shrill scream.

And then—

The final lock gave way.

The door burst open, slamming into the wall. They spilled out into the ground floor lobby, dust and plaster raining down.

But outside the shattered glass doors, Lin saw them—rows of black sedans and armored vans lining the street. Dozens of armed men stood waiting, weapons trained on the exit.

Jin had them exactly where he wanted.

And behind them, the building began to shake, its walls trembling with the promise of fire.