Scaling the back wall of Hanmyeong Tower took seconds. Her gloves found every ledge; her boots never made a sound. She paused briefly at the 7th floor fire exit, picked the mechanical lock in under five seconds, then glided inward—no hesitation, no wasted motion.
Inside, a dim hallway led to a reinforced office door. Two guards stood chatting, unaware of the ghost that had entered.
Kaia exhaled once, then surged forward.
The first man's throat was slit before he could turn. She pivoted, catching the second's wrist mid-reach for his gun, and drove her blade into his ribs—angled perfectly between armor seams. Not a single sound escaped.
The office door clicked open from the inside.
A middle-aged man stepped out—expensive suit, glass of scotch in hand, confused at the noise.
Kaia was already behind him.
She wrapped an arm around his neck, the other driving a fine silver blade through the base of his skull. His glass shattered on the floor as his body slumped.
...