CHAPTER 165: CHAPTER 165: NEON TRAPS

The karaoke bar smelled of mildew, cigarette smoke, and stale beer. Its neon sign outside still flickered weakly—half-dead, sputtering in electric blues and reds that bled through the cracked blinds. The room inside was quiet, the kind of forgotten place that had once thrived on drunken laughter and off-key ballads but now lay hollow, reduced to peeling wallpaper and warped wooden tables sticky with old stains.

Lin pushed the captive scout into the farthest booth, the man stumbling but managing to smirk despite the bruises already purpling along his cheek. Keller followed close behind, gun drawn, tension in every muscle. Min-joon lingered by the door, nervous eyes darting to the street outside. His breaths came quick and shallow, the night’s chase still rattling in his chest.

"We shouldn’t stay long," Min-joon whispered, voice taut. "They’ll track us here too."

Lin scanned the room carefully, his instincts working overtime. The building was quiet enough. No obvious surveillance, no immediate movement outside. But Min-joon was right—time was never on their side.

"Just a pause," Lin said flatly. His voice was calm, but there was an edge beneath it. "We need information before we move again."

The scout laughed, a dry chuckle that grated against the silence. "Information," he repeated mockingly. "Do you think you’ll learn anything from me, Lin? Jin already knows where you are. Every second you waste here..." He leaned forward, his grin splitting wider. "...you’re tightening the noose around your neck."

Keller’s fist slammed down on the table, rattling the empty beer bottles. "Shut the hell up before I make you." His gun tilted, the barrel pressing against the scout’s forehead.

The smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened. "Do it," the scout dared, eyes gleaming. "Pull the trigger. But when you do, you’ll kill your last chance at knowing just how deep Jin’s hand runs in this city. Think, Keller. Do you even know who’s feeding him? You think you’re running from shadows, but the rot’s already inside Seoul. You can’t run from a city that breathes his will."

Keller’s jaw tightened. His finger twitched on the trigger. Lin raised a hand, steady, commanding. "Enough."

For a moment, the weight of the word alone froze the room. Keller exhaled sharply, pulling back the gun but keeping it trained on the man.

Lin crouched across from the scout, his expression unreadable. "You’ve already said too much. Which means you want us to know something."

The scout tilted his head, lips curling. "Smart. Always the sharp one, aren’t you, Lin? But not sharp enough to cut through the strings tying you down."

"What strings?" Lin asked. His tone was cool, but inside, gears were turning.

The scout leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Police. Government officials. Even the military. Jin’s reach is everywhere now. Seoul is his hunting ground, and you just stepped onto his chessboard. Do you know how many pairs of eyes watched you climb out of that shaft tonight? Do you know how many hands were already waiting to guide you here?"

Min-joon’s breath hitched. He turned sharply toward Lin. "Is he telling the truth?"

Lin didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on the scout’s.

The man chuckled again. "You don’t have to believe me. Just wait. When you step outside again, you’ll see who really owns this city."

Keller growled, pacing like a caged wolf. "He’s baiting us, Lin. We should shut him up before his friends show."

"They already know," the scout said calmly, almost smugly. "You feel it, don’t you? The air pressing in? That’s not paranoia. That’s the net tightening."

As if to punctuate his words, the lights above them flickered once... twice... then stabilized, the hum of electricity carrying an odd rhythm. Lin’s eyes snapped upward. It wasn’t just faulty wiring.

"We’ve been marked," Lin muttered.

Almost instantly, shutters slammed down over the bar’s front windows. The metallic clang echoed through the empty space, and the sound of locks engaging sent a jolt through Min-joon.

"They found us!" Min-joon shouted, panic rising.

Keller swore under his breath, yanking the scout from the booth and pressing him against the wall. "You set us up!"

The scout only grinned wider. "Welcome to Jin’s stage."

Footsteps began echoing outside, dozens of them, heavy and synchronized. A chorus of boots scraping against pavement. The muted rumble of engines purred just beyond the walls.

Lin moved fast, scanning the exits. The back hallway led toward what had once been private rooms, maybe a service door. But it would be tight, a gamble if enemies were already circling.

"Keller, with me," Lin ordered, already moving. "Min-joon, watch our rear."

"What about him?" Keller jerked his head toward the scout, fury in his eyes.

Lin hesitated only for a second. The scout’s words rang sharp in his head. Information or trap—either way, Jin had planted him for a reason. Leaving him behind was too dangerous.

"We take him," Lin decided.

Keller snarled but obeyed, shoving the man forward.

The hallway was narrow, lined with cracked mirrors and broken neon strips that buzzed faintly. As they moved deeper, the sound of boots grew louder. Shadows flickered at the far end of the corridor—figures closing in.

"Down!" Lin barked.

Gunfire erupted, glass exploding as bullets chewed through the walls. Lin and Keller dove for cover, returning fire in short, precise bursts. Min-joon pressed himself against the wall, trembling but clutching his weapon tight.

The scout laughed even as bullets whizzed past. "See? Now you feel it. You’re in the heart of his jaws."

"Shut up!" Keller snarled, dragging him down behind a shattered booth.

The firefight grew fierce, neon reflections splintering across every surface. Bottles shattered, glass spraying like shrapnel. Lin’s mind calculated every angle, every bullet left in his clip.

"We push left," Lin said quickly, motioning toward the side door. "Keller, cover fire. Min-joon, with me."

Keller unleashed a storm of bullets, forcing the attackers back as Lin shoved the side door open with his shoulder. The hinges groaned, but the cold night air hit them like a blessing.

They spilled into a narrow alley behind the bar, littered with trash bags and dripping neon signs above. But freedom was short-lived—the alley’s mouth was already blocked.

A black sedan rolled up, its polished frame gleaming under the neon lights. Its engine purred like a predator’s growl. The rear door clicked open slowly, deliberately.

A single polished shoe touched the pavement first. Then another.

Lin’s chest tightened as the figure emerged. A man in a tailored black suit, his posture effortless yet commanding. His face was sharp, unreadable, but the aura around him was unmistakable.

Jin.

The scout chuckled darkly, even with Keller’s gun pressed to his temple. "Told you. The stage is set."

Lin steadied his weapon, his breath calm despite the storm raging inside. He had expected Jin’s presence as a distant threat, a shadow lurking over the horizon. But now the shadow had stepped into the neon glow, flesh and blood, only meters away.

Keller cursed under his breath. Min-joon froze, caught between awe and fear.

Jin’s gaze swept over them once, calm and clinical, before his lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

"Lin," he said softly, his voice carrying like a blade through the night. "You’ve climbed far to reach me. Let’s see how far you’ll fall."