The neon lights of Seoul bled into one another, streaks of red and blue washing the alley in unnatural hues. Lin felt the city pressing down on him — alive, crowded, and yet, in that narrow corridor between steaming food stalls and shuttered storefronts, it felt like the whole world had narrowed to a single figure blocking their path.

The scout was lean, dressed in an unremarkable gray jacket that made him blend into the background. But his stance was wrong. Too straight, too sure, too deliberately casual. His hood shadowed most of his face, but Lin caught the glint of a smile. The man hadn't come to pass by. He was waiting.

"You've made quite the mess underground," the scout said in Korean, his tone calm, almost mocking. "Jin sends his regards. He said you'd surface eventually. He was right."

Keller shifted behind Lin, his hand hovering close to his weapon. Min-joon's breathing was loud, shallow, his nerves frayed after hours of suffocating darkness. Lin held up a hand, steady but sharp. One wrong move and the scout's backup — because there was always backup — would descend.

"What does Jin want?" Lin asked evenly, stepping forward until the glow from a nearby sign lit half his face. His voice didn't waver.

The scout chuckled. "Want? He doesn't want. He owns. You've stolen from him, embarrassed him, and yet he offers a chance at mercy. He says — return what's his, and you walk away. Alive."

Keller muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Lin to catch: "Bullshit."

The scout's smile widened. "I see your dog still has teeth. Careful — barking too loud in this city gets dogs put down fast." His eyes flicked to Min-joon, who flinched, retreating half a step. "And this one… a boy playing in grown men's games. Jin said you'd drag him along. Soft spots are easy to crush."

Lin's jaw clenched. He took another step closer, reducing the distance between them to little more than a few strides. The crowd moved around them — couples laughing, office workers rushing home, food vendors shouting their orders. None of them noticed the silent war brewing in their midst.

"You know," Lin said slowly, "men like you always think they're untouchable. Standing here, talking like you already own the outcome." He tilted his head, scanning the edges of the crowd. Shadows moved where they shouldn't. Two… three men, maybe more, hanging just far enough back to be invisible to the untrained eye. "Problem is, you're not the hunter. You're bait."

The scout's smirk faltered for just a second. Then he laughed. "Smart. That's why Jin respects you. But respect doesn't mean he'll stop hunting."

Keller finally stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous. "Lin. Enough talk. Let's put him down before his friends close in."

The scout lifted a hand like a conductor raising a baton. Lin's instincts screamed. It was the signal.

"Now," Lin hissed.

Keller lunged, faster than anyone in the alley expected. His shoulder slammed into the scout's chest, driving him back into the wall. Min-joon gasped, stumbling aside as Lin moved like a shadow, intercepting the first of the backup men as he reached for a weapon. Lin's elbow cracked against the man's jaw, spinning him into the alley's neon glow.

Chaos erupted. Shouts, curses, the crash of a food stall overturned. The crowd scattered in panic. Vendors screamed as bodies slammed into their tables, sending skewers and boiling pots clattering across the ground.

The scout twisted under Keller's grip, producing a knife that caught the fluorescent light in a wicked flash. Keller snarled, grabbing his wrist and slamming it against the wall until the blade clattered to the ground.

Another of the scout's men rushed Lin with a short club. Lin ducked, caught the man's wrist, and wrenched it until bone snapped with a wet crack. The man screamed, drawing more attention. Sirens blared faintly in the distance. Police would come, but too late — this fight would be finished long before.

"Move!" Lin barked.

Keller slammed the scout's head against the wall, dazing him just long enough for Lin to grab his collar. Together, they dragged him into a narrow side alley as Min-joon scrambled after them, pale and wide-eyed. Behind them, the scout's backup lay groaning on the ground or scattered into the fleeing crowd.

The alley swallowed them in shadow. Lin shoved the scout against the bricks, pressing his forearm against his throat. "Tell Jin this," he growled in Mandarin now, his voice sharp as broken glass. "You can send scouts. You can send dogs. But if you want me, you'll have to come yourself."

The scout choked out a laugh, even as Keller pinned his arms. Blood trickled from his split lip, but his grin was steady. "You think you're winning? Jin's already two steps ahead. He's watching you right now."

Lin tightened his hold. "Then why send trash like you?"

The man's eyes glittered. "Because Jin likes to see you sweat."

Min-joon couldn't take it anymore. He stepped forward, fists trembling. "Where is he? Where is Jin hiding?!" His voice cracked with desperation.

The scout looked at him, almost pitying. "Boy… you don't want to find him."

Lin pressed harder. The scout coughed, struggling for air, but the smirk never left his face. "Kill me," he rasped, "and Jin will know exactly where you are. Leave me, and he'll still find you. Either way… he wins."

Keller cursed. "Lin, this guy's wasting our time. Let's end him and move."

But Lin's mind raced. He studied the scout's face, his posture, the confidence even in defeat. This wasn't just a disposable pawn. This man wanted to be caught. He was feeding them something — but was it truth, or just bait for a bigger trap?

Min-joon's voice broke the silence. "We… we can't kill him. Not yet. He knows things."

The scout laughed again, low and rough. "Yes. I know things. And I'll tell you one for free." He leaned closer despite Lin's grip. "Jin isn't in Seoul. He's waiting in Incheon. He knows you'll come for him. He knows you have to."

The name hit the air like a hammer. Incheon. The port. A labyrinth of docks, warehouses, and container yards — the perfect hunting ground.

Lin's eyes narrowed. He shoved the scout harder against the wall. "Why tell us this?"

"Because," the scout whispered, "it doesn't matter. You'll go anyway. And Jin will be ready."

Sirens wailed closer now, flashing red and blue bleeding into the end of the alley. Time was running out.

Lin exchanged a quick glance with Keller. Options were thin. Dragging the scout would slow them down, but leaving him meant Jin's net tightened even faster.

"Lin," Keller hissed. "Decide. Now."

For the first time, Lin saw something flicker in the scout's expression — not fear, not arrogance, but something darker. Anticipation. As if this was only the beginning of the game.

Lin stepped back, releasing the pressure on the man's throat. "Tie him," he ordered curtly. "We take him with us. He talks when I say he talks."

Keller cursed again but obeyed, binding the scout's wrists with a strip of cloth torn from his own jacket. Min-joon exhaled shakily, relief and dread mixing in his eyes.

As they dragged the scout deeper into the maze of alleys, the neon glow faded behind them. Seoul roared on around them, oblivious, but Lin felt the city had shifted. The hunt had moved to a new stage.

And in the silence of the alley, the scout's laughter echoed — low, mocking, endless.