CHAPTER 170: CHAPTER 170: INFERNO’S EMBRACE

The sound was maddening—sharp beeps echoing from every corner of the ruined office, overlapping like a chorus of countdowns. Each tone marked the final moments before the building turned into their tomb. Lin’s ears strained, tracking the layers of noise, trying to calculate how much time they truly had. Seconds? A minute at best. His instincts screamed at him: move now or die here.

"Down!" Lin barked, yanking Keller by the shoulder just as a section of ceiling gave way. Concrete and steel rods thundered onto the floor where Keller had stood a breath ago, sparks leaping as exposed wiring snapped free. The scout cackled in the shadows, his voice full of manic glee.

"You can’t outrun him," the man taunted, sweat gleaming on his temples. "Jin doesn’t need to kill you—he just wants to watch you burn."

"Shut him up," Keller growled, his pistol snapping up, but Lin pushed the barrel down.

"Not now. We need every second."

Dust filled the air, thick and choking. Lin pulled his mask higher across his face, his eyes darting to the stairwell at the far side of the floor. But the steel door there was bent inward, crushed by debris. That exit was gone. The only path was forward—downward—through the collapsing labyrinth Jin had designed.

"Move!" Lin shouted, already sprinting toward the shattered stairwell railing. The floor below gaped open, fires flickering like hungry teeth. He dropped first, boots hitting broken plaster, then motioned Min-joon and Keller to follow. The scout was shoved after them, stumbling with his hands tied, nearly tumbling headfirst.

The heat grew worse with each descent. Somewhere in the lower floors, a fire had already taken hold, roaring like an animal in its cage. Lin could hear glass shattering as windows burst from the pressure. The entire building seemed alive, groaning, swaying, eager to collapse.

"Lin!" Min-joon’s voice cracked through the chaos. He pointed to the wall ahead where faint red light flickered. For a heartbeat, Lin thought it was fire—but then he saw it: daylight. An opening. A blown-out section of wall that led to the alley outside.

"Go!" Lin shouted. "That’s our way out!"

They scrambled over the debris, Keller firing short bursts at the few gunmen that appeared in the opening. Bullets sparked off concrete, one ricocheting past Min-joon’s head. He ducked, swore under his breath, then leapt down beside Lin.

But the exit was no gift. Outside, the alley was alive with movement—black sedans parked nose to tail, vans disgorging men in tactical gear. The noose was waiting.

Keller cursed loudly. "We’ll never break through that line."

Lin’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t ready to surrender—not now. "Then we make them choke on their own trap."

He grabbed a chunk of fallen rebar, wedging it into the wall’s support beam, and with Keller’s help, forced the weakened structure outward. With a groan like thunder, the entire section gave way, collapsing into the alley. Dust and stone rained down, crushing two of Jin’s men and scattering the others in panic.

"Move now!" Lin commanded.

They spilled into the chaos, the scout shoved forward like a shield. Gunfire erupted instantly. The air became a storm of lead, bullets whipping past ears, slamming into brick and asphalt. Lin weaved through the smoke, pulling Min-joon along while Keller returned fire with brutal precision, every shot meant to kill.

The blast wave hit them a second later.

The charges in the upper floors finally detonated, a roar splitting the night. The building they had escaped from tore itself apart, flames belching skyward, glass and metal hailing down in lethal shards. The shockwave slammed into the alley like a tidal surge, knocking men off their feet, tossing vehicles sideways.

Lin staggered but kept his grip on Min-joon, forcing him forward. The distraction was perfect, even if it meant running through a rain of burning debris.

"Left!" he shouted, spotting a narrow passage between two buildings.

They dashed inside, a tunnel of shadows compared to the firestorm behind them. Keller stayed at the rear, his gun barking in steady rhythm, keeping Jin’s men from closing the distance.

But the scout chose that moment to twist free. With a sudden surge, he ripped himself from Keller’s grasp and darted ahead, laughing through the smoke.

"You’ll never win! You’re already in his hands!"

Keller raised his weapon, but Lin stopped him again. "No! He’s leading us somewhere—use it!"

The scout’s wild sprint cut through the alley, weaving past dumpsters and crates. Lin followed, every step calculated. The man wasn’t running for freedom—he was running to position them where Jin wanted.

And that meant Jin himself was close.

The alley opened into a wider street, flames painting the night orange. Civilians screamed from a distance, fleeing as sirens wailed, but this part of the city was Jin’s domain now. His men had already cordoned the block.

And there he was.

At the far end of the street, half-shrouded by smoke, a black figure stood on the roof of a van. Even through the haze, Lin could feel the weight of his stare. Jin didn’t raise a weapon, didn’t move. He simply stood there, arms folded, watching.

The scout fell to his knees in the center of the street, laughing hysterically. "See? He doesn’t even need to touch you. You’re already here, dancing to his song!"

Keller’s finger tightened on the trigger, but Lin held up a hand. His eyes were locked on the silhouette at the street’s end.

Jin.

The enemy who had turned the city itself into a weapon. The man who had forced them from shadows into fire.

For the first time, Lin felt the truth pressing in on him: Jin wasn’t trying to kill them—not yet. He was shaping them. Testing them.

And that made him more dangerous than any bullet.

A sudden crack split the night—a sniper’s shot. The scout’s laughter ended in a wet gurgle as his chest exploded. He toppled sideways, blood pooling on the asphalt.

Lin’s eyes shot up. The shot hadn’t come from Jin’s men in the street. It had come from above—from the rooftops. Someone else had joined the hunt.

"Ambush!" Min-joon cried, diving for cover.

Gunfire erupted again, this time from both sides. The block became a cage of steel and fire.

Lin’s mind raced. The trap was perfect, the timing flawless. Jin hadn’t just built this moment—he had orchestrated it down to the second. The scout was never meant to escape. He was bait, nothing more.

Lin pulled Min-joon close, shouting over the roar. "Stay low! We move on my mark!"

Keller’s teeth were bared, eyes wild with fury. "We should cut through them right here. Burn them all down."

But Lin knew better. The street was lost. Staying here meant death—or worse, capture.

His eyes darted up the walls, to the fire escapes and windows above. The only way out was up.

"Forget the street!" Lin roared. "We climb!"

They surged toward the nearest wall as bullets chased their heels. Lin grabbed the iron ladder, yanking Min-joon upward first, Keller covering from below. Sparks rained as rounds chewed into the metal around them.

Halfway up, Lin risked a glance back. Jin still hadn’t moved, still stood in perfect calm at the end of the burning street. Their eyes locked across the chaos.

And Jin smiled.

The building shuddered again, flames licking higher, threatening to swallow the night whole. Sirens wailed closer now, but they were meaningless. This wasn’t a fight the authorities could touch.

As Lin hauled himself onto the rooftop, lungs burning, he realized the truth in that smile.

Jin had wanted them alive. Not for capture. Not for execution.

But for the game.

And the game had only just begun.