The Ambush
The snap of the twig behind me sent adrenaline surging through my veins. Before my brain could process the sound, my body was already moving - years of street fights and alleyway brawls had honed my reflexes to a razor's edge. I ducked just as a wickedly curved tantō sword sliced through the air where my neck had been, the blade embedding itself deep into the ancient cedar pillar of the shrine with a sickening thunk.
Moonlight glinted off the steel as I rolled to the side, gravel biting into my palms. Three figures emerged from the shadows between the torii gates, their black clothing making them nearly invisible in the darkness. Only the glint of their drawn weapons gave them away - the distinctive wavy blades of yakuza assassins.
"Down!" I launched myself at Haewon, tackling her behind the stone altar just as another blade whistled through the space where her head had been. Her breath came in sharp gasps against my chest as we hit the ground hard.
Joonho stood frozen in the center of the courtyard, his usually smug face slack with shock. "This isn't my doing," he hissed, his voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
"Like hell it isn't!" Haewon shoved me off and came up in a fighting crouch, her favorite switchblade already in hand. The first attacker lunged at her, and the night air filled with the shriek of steel on steel as she parried with practiced precision.
I grabbed a fallen paper lantern, the oil inside sloshing dangerously as I swung it in a wide arc. It connected with the second assailant's face with a satisfying crunch, the glass shattering and flames immediately licking at his sleeves. His scream pierced the night as he batted at the spreading fire.
That's when Jihoon materialized from the shadows like some avenging spirit, his pistol pressed firmly against the temple of the third attacker. "Enough." His voice cut through the chaos like a knife. "Tell your boss these kids are under my protection."
The would-be assassin's eyes widened in recognition before he gave a sharp nod. The clearing fell silent save for the crackle of burning fabric and our ragged breathing.
---
The Truth About Jihoon
The safe house stank of blood, gunpowder, and expensive cologne - the latter courtesy of Joonho, who sat rigid in the corner with his torn Armani suit and a rapidly swelling eye. Jihoon tossed a blood-stained smartphone onto the low table, the screen cracked but still displaying a series of incriminating messages.
"They were sent by Joonho's uncle," Jihoon said, lighting a cigarette with hands that were remarkably steady. **"To silence him permanently."** He jerked his chin toward Joonho, who flinched at the motion.
Minjae, who had been quietly hyperventilating into a paper bag in the corner, peeked out with wide eyes. "Wait, you're helping Joonho now?" His voice cracked on the last word. "After everything?"
Jihoon exhaled a plume of smoke, his expression unreadable. "I'm helping whoever gets me those docks. Turns out our dear Joonho here had an attack of conscience after learning what his uncle really did to Dojin's father."
The air left my lungs in a rush. My father's face flashed in my memory - the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the calluses on his hands from years of factory work, the folk songs he'd hum while fixing our perpetually leaky sink. The mundane details that made him real, made him mine.
Joonho's jaw worked silently before he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "He didn't just cover up the accident. He ordered it." His hands clenched into fists on his knees. "Your father was about to expose the safety violations. So my uncle had him removed."
The room swayed dangerously. I gripped the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white, the wood biting into my palms. A warm hand slipped into mine under the table - Haewon's fingers were icy but steady, her grip tight enough to ground me.
"Why tell us now?" My voice sounded foreign to my own ears, rough with barely contained rage.
Joonho met my gaze for the first time, his usual arrogance replaced by something that looked suspiciously like shame. "Because I saw what he did to my mother when she tried to leave the family." His throat worked as he swallowed hard. "Some lines shouldn't be crossed."
---
The Safe House Siege
We should have known the yakuza wouldn't take Jihoon's interference lying down.
The first grenade shattered the ryokan's front door at 3:17 AM, the explosion sending splinters of wood and plaster raining down on us. I barely had time to register the ringing in my ears before automatic gunfire chewed through the paper-thin walls, bullets stitching a deadly pattern across the room where we'd been sitting seconds before.
"Back exit!" Jihoon barked, shoving Joonho toward the hallway with enough force to send him stumbling.
Haewon grabbed Minjae by the collar of his shirt, hauling him to his feet. "The files—"
"Got 'em!" Minjae clutched his laptop to his chest like a lifeline, his glasses askew but miraculously unbroken as we bolted through the kitchen.
I didn't feel the bullet graze my calf until we were already in the alley, the adrenaline masking the pain until the coppery scent of blood mixed with the gunpowder in the air.
---
The Escape
The fishing boat reeked of squid and desperation, the stench so thick I could taste it at the back of my throat. As Fukuoka's glittering skyline vanished behind us, Joonho broke the tense silence:
"My uncle keeps your mother in a villa near Nagasaki."
Haewon went preternaturally still, her knuckles white where they gripped the railing.
"Why tell us now?" I demanded, my voice rough.
He met Haewon's gaze steadily, the moonlight washing out his usually perfect complexion. "Because I saw what he did to my mother when she tried to leave." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "No one deserves that."
The engine's growl swallowed Haewon's quiet "Thank you," but I saw the words form on her lips.
---
Next Chapter Teaser:
- The Villa Infiltration (Kimono disguises and poisoned tea)
- Minjae's Dark Discovery (The horrifying truth about Project Phoenix)
- A Kiss in the Rain (No interruptions this time)