Evgeny stayed silent, staring at the floor, his jaw locked tight. The offer Rin made wasn't empty — it was ironclad in tone, like a command disguised as a promise.
"So help me. If you do, I'll make sure you get the funds you were promised." Rin said, his eyes unblinking.
Evgeny finally muttered, "I thought I already told you, the hospital fees will be the last support HQ provides us."
"We don't need HQ's support," Rin replied instantly, as though he'd been waiting for that protest.
Evgeny snapped his head up, disbelief etched across his face. "Are you serious? We're both injured, so how are we supposed to do anything without support?"
Rin's tone was flat, almost scolding. "Quit whining. Can't you move around pretty well now? And if you're worried about weapons, I've got us covered."
Evgeny gave a harsh laugh under his breath, shaking his head. "That's not the only problem here. You're trying to act independently outside orders. If we fail, that's the end of it. But if we're unlucky, we'll both be dead. You think HQ will bother to come for our bodies?"
Rin leaned forward, the cold fire in his eyes unshaken. "Weren't you prepared for this much when you came here?"
Evgeny looked away, exhaling through his nose. "Sure. I was way more hopeful back then. But why don't you take a reality check? Those guys already know who we are. They'll put a tail on us the second we act suspiciously. Plus, we don't even know where Persephone is—"
"I think I know where it is," Rin interrupted, his hand sliding another folder across the table. He opened it with calm precision, revealing maps, sketches, and old photographs of the Romanov estate.
Evgeny squinted, unimpressed. "Go on."
Rin's voice carried the weight of logic, every word measured, every detail grounded in an almost frightening clarity.
"According to Tsar, he once described it as: an empty castle in the middle of a vast land. You can't fly, ride, or even walk there. It's impossible to reach unless you're a fish, an insect, or a flying creature."
He tapped the map with two fingers.
"The 'vast land' is clearly the Romanov estate. Untouchable without invitation, unreachable without permission. And the 'empty castle'? Their manor itself. You can't just walk into their home — it requires formality, legitimacy, or blood ties. It's the perfect metaphor."
Evgeny raised a brow, folding his arms. "That's some poetic shit for a psychopath."
Rin ignored the jab and continued.
"Now—there's more. Tsar mentioned a very old tree at that castle, one whose age is said to match Koschei's. The Romanov manor has many trees, but by the outer wall there are exactly five birches. Five. One for each sibling. It's an old Slavic tradition — a young birch is planted whenever a child is born. That estate is as much a graveyard of memories as it is a fortress."
Evgeny's smirk faltered a little, but he said nothing.
Rin's voice hardened, his finger dragging southward across the estate map.
"The manor sits south of these trees. Which means, in the riddle's terms, the 'huge treasure chest south of the tree' must be the manor itself. And within it, each room represents the smaller treasure chests. Among them, Tsar said, lies one chest that no one looks for. No fuller, no emptier than the others. The ignored room. The abandoned one. That's where the blueprints are."
His eyes narrowed, cold and razor-sharp.
"But Tsar also added — once you open it, you may or may not find Koschei's heart. I interpret that to mean the blueprints won't simply sit there in plain sight. They're secured. Layered. Possibly linked to a device or condition we'll have to trigger to reveal them. A puzzle built on top of a myth."
Evgeny let out a short, incredulous laugh, though his voice cracked with a faint edge of unease.
"So you're saying Tsar gave you a little riddle to figure out exactly where the blueprints are? Ge—ez. Wake up, Rin. Why the hell would he give you such important information? You actually believe that monster would just hand you the key like that?"
Rin's thoughts sharpened like steel, though his expression didn't flinch.
Why? Because he wanted me to. Because it amuses him. Kai isn't a man who gives without reason. He is a man who sets the stage, who builds mazes for others to wander through. He enjoys it — dangling truth like bait, watching to see who can piece it together. It's not generosity. It's theater. And he wants me to play my part.
Rin leaned back, folding his arms across his chest.
"It wasn't a gift, Evgeny. It was a test. Maybe even a trap. But I'll take a riddle over ignorance any day. He wanted me to find Persephone — whether out of arrogance, amusement, or some twisted plan of his own. And if he left me a trail, I'll follow it. Because whether it's a joke or not, that trail leads straight into the Romanov manor. And that's where the truth is buried."
The silence between them grew heavy, Rin's certainty colliding with Evgeny's doubt like steel grinding against stone.
Evgeny finally muttered under his breath, half to himself, half to Rin:
"You sound like a man willing to walk straight into hell just because someone left the door open."
Rin's gaze didn't waver. His thoughts rang cold and absolute:
If that's where Persephone lies, then hell is exactly where I'll go.
"You're playing with fire, Rin… if that lunatic finds out you're coming after him, you're dead meat." Evgeny said, his voice a mix of warning and disbelief.
Rin's response came out clipped, direct, and merciless.
"I don't give a shit. And I won't force you to join me either. You can back out right now if you're not interested. But I can't give you much time to think about it, so make your decision quickly. If the blueprints really are there, I'll hand them to you. That much I can promise."
He stood, adjusting his shirt as though the conversation were already over. That kind of finality — no hesitation, no second-guessing — carried more weight than a hundred threats. Rin wasn't bluffing; he was already moving.
But before he could take a step, Evgeny's hand shot out and clamped tightly around his arm. His eyes searched Rin's face with something between desperation and dread.
"Are you really sure the blueprints are there?"
Rin stopped. Slowly, he turned his head, his expression carved from stone. His voice lowered, steady, deliberate, the way one explains something they've already replayed a thousand times in their mind.
"When I went to the Romanov manor, during the after party, I disguised myself as a waitress."
Evgeny's grip loosened just slightly, his brow furrowing.
Rin continued.
"I moved through the halls, carrying trays, listening, observing. Every room in that manor was filled with people, noise, shadows moving behind curtains. Except one."
He paused, eyes narrowing as the memory sharpened.
"There was a single room — curtains all drawn, the only one completely sealed off. And yet, there was no one inside. No guards, no servants, no music seeping out. Just silence."
Rin let the words sink in before he added:
"I lingered outside the window, long enough to study it. My shadow fell against the floor through a gap in the curtains. For the briefest moment, something glimmered. At first, I thought it was just the moonlight bouncing off glass. But it wasn't. The angle was wrong. Too sharp. Too deliberate."
He pulled his arm free of Evgeny's grip with a single, firm motion.
"It was something metallic. Not decoration, not furniture — something deliberately hidden. And yet, I was able to catch it without even entering the room."
Evgeny exhaled sharply through his nose, finally letting go with a defeated sigh. His shoulders slumped as he muttered,
"You're really staking everything on a flicker."
Rin's eyes hardened further, his voice grave.
"Not a flicker. A pattern. Every piece of the puzzle Tsar fed me points to that manor. Every folktale reference lines up. And now I have a tangible lead — that glimmer. That sealed room. The one place no one is allowed to enter. That's not coincidence, Evgeny. That's deliberate concealment."
He leaned closer, his tone like steel against steel.
"If you want to call it playing with fire, fine. But fire means light. Fire means clarity. And right now, clarity is worth the risk."
In Rin's thoughts, there was no bravado — only cold certainty.
That room wasn't empty. It was a vault wearing the mask of silence. They wanted it hidden, ignored. Which makes it the most important room in that house. The glimmer wasn't just metal — it was a signal. And I'll find out what it is, even if I have to burn with it.
Evgeny let out a long sigh, his eyes closing briefly as though the weight of Rin's determination was crushing. When he opened them again, his expression had softened into resignation. He knew Rin wouldn't turn back — not now, not ever.
Evgeny let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.
"But we don't have gadgets. We can't just walk into that manor empty-handed."
Rin's eyes narrowed with cold assurance.
"I know exactly where we can get some."
He didn't elaborate, didn't need to. The way he said it made it sound less like a plan and more like a certainty.
They drove in silence, the night pressing down around them, until the broken silhouette of an abandoned chapel came into view. Its crooked steeple jutted against the moonlight like a cracked fang.
Evgeny frowned, clearly unconvinced.
"Hey… you sure this is the right place?" His voice echoed slightly, wary, as he stepped over the moss-crusted stones leading to the entrance.
Rin didn't answer. He didn't even glance at him. Instead, he walked straight inside, boots clicking softly against the dusty, hollow floor. Evgeny muttered a curse under his breath and followed.
The chapel was dead quiet. Pews broken in half, paint peeling off the walls, crosses hanging crookedly as if even faith had abandoned this place. But Rin wasn't here for the surface. He descended directly to the basement, like a man retracing old scars.
Nothing had changed down there. The same empty room. The same smell of mildew and forgotten prayers. And in the center, like a relic from a different world, sat the battered old cash register.
Evgeny blinked, incredulous.
"You dragged me here for this piece of junk?"
Still nothing from Rin. He approached the cash register, his movements deliberate, as though every step was measured in his head before his body committed. He placed his hands on the machine, fingers brushing across the worn metal buttons, and began pressing a sequence.
Each metallic clack of the keys echoed unnaturally loud in the silence.
I hope he didn't change the password…
A low rumble answered his thought. Mechanisms hidden in the walls whirred awake like the breath of some buried creature. The stone wall to the left shuddered, then slid open with a grinding moan, revealing a concealed armory.
Evgeny's jaw went slack. "What the hell…"
Rin didn't react. His face stayed cold, almost detached, as if he'd expected this all along. He stepped forward into the revealed chamber where the walls gleamed with rows of weapons and gadgets. Rifles, explosives, tactical gear — an arsenal hidden behind the façade of god's house.
He pulled a long sniper rifle off the rack and tossed it casually at Evgeny, who nearly dropped it.
"Here. Have this."
Evgeny stared at the weapon in his hands, still trying to catch up.
"You… you've been here before, haven't you? With him."
Rin ignored the question, already busy. He moved through the racks with quiet efficiency, collecting gear with the same precision as a surgeon choosing tools. He wasn't looting; he was selecting, curating, every piece weighed against some mental checklist.
Then something caught his eye — a faint red blink tucked high in the corner. A surveillance lens.
For the briefest moment, his body froze. Not with panic, but with recognition.
Of course. He wouldn't leave this place unmonitored. Not Kai. Every move I make, he wants to see. He wants to know how much I've figured out.
His jaw clenched. He didn't hesitate. He raised a handgun, aimed with the kind of ease that came from repetition, and BANG — the CCTV lens shattered in a spray of sparks and glass.
The echo of the shot rattled through the chapel's skeleton. Silence fell again, heavier now.
Rin lowered the gun with calm finality and muttered under his breath:
"Not this time."
He slid the pistol back into its holster, expression unreadable. Inside, his thoughts were sharp as knives.
He'll know I was here. He'll know I've armed myself. But that doesn't matter. Let him watch the smoke from his broken toy. Let him guess how much I've taken. By the time he puts it together, I'll already be at his throat.
Evgeny was staring at him, wide-eyed, the sniper rifle hanging awkwardly in his grip. Finally, he said in a low, uneasy voice:
"You… really aren't kidding about going after him."
Rin glanced at him, eyes cold and unblinking.
"I don't kid. Ever."
The gear lay scattered across the damp stone floor like instruments before an operation. Rin crouched, methodically checking every strap, valve, and buckle on his diving suit. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost ritualistic. Nothing about him suggested nerves; he carried himself as though he'd already decided he was going to survive, and the rest was just a matter of execution.
"Alright, so from what I'm seeing here, there are two main ways we can approach this." His voice was steady, factual, like he was briefing a soldier, not a reluctant partner. "We can either go up the drain that connects the manor and the river… or make the descent from above. The former will likely have a higher survival rate."
He zipped his suit with a quick, efficient tug, the sound slicing through the silence of the ruined chapel basement.
Evgeny sat on a crate, adjusting his own swimming gear with less certainty. His hands fumbled slightly as he clipped his oxygen tank, the metallic clink betraying his nerves. He tried to keep it light, but his voice wavered.
"Even if we get near the manor, there's probably a propeller at the drain's entrance to keep the river water out. We could get lucky and pass through it, sure… but what if the pipe beyond it's too narrow for us and the gear?"
He gave a nervous little chuckle, glancing at Rin for reassurance. He got none.
"You know… maybe we should try another way."
The words hung in the air like a plea, weak and desperate.
Rin didn't even look at him. He crouched, twisting the regulator on his tank, listening to the faint hiss of oxygen flow. He adjusted the straps across his chest, tugged his mask down, and then — without a flicker of hesitation — straightened and walked to the water's edge.
His last words before the plunge were sharp, final:
"No."
No argument. No debate. Just the weight of certainty.
He fitted the mouthpiece between his teeth, bent his knees, and dove in. The water swallowed him in an instant, the surface rippling as though nothing had ever been there.
Propeller, narrow pipe, oxygen limits — Evgeny's right about the risks. But hesitation kills faster than steel. He doesn't get it. The Romanovs built that drain to keep outsiders out, but nothing made by men is perfect. Every system has a flaw. Every wall has a crack. I just have to find it. And if this river swallows me before I do? So be it.
The cold pressed against him, but he forced it out of his mind. The current tugged at his suit, bubbles trailing from his mask like ghostly strings. He adjusted his posture, every kick precise, every movement efficient. He didn't waste a single drop of air.
Back above, Evgeny was still on the ledge, mask in hand, staring into the churning black water. His chest rose and fell quickly. He muttered under his breath:
"You're insane, Rin… completely insane."
But the ripples were already closing over where Rin had vanished.
Evgeny cursed, bit down on his own mouthpiece, and finally plunged in after him.
The waterlogged tunnel spat them out in a sputtering heap. Rin dragged himself onto the stone ledge first, collapsing to his knees as the icy water poured off him in rivulets. His chest heaved, his lungs burning, and he doubled over.
"Kof—kof—" He hacked up a lungful of stale water, spitting it onto the stone. The coppery taste lingered in his mouth, and he pressed a fist to his lips, forcing his breathing into rhythm again.
Evgeny clambered up beside him, dripping, hair plastered to his forehead. He immediately gripped Rin's arm, steadying him.
"Easy, don't black out now," he muttered.
Rin yanked off the swim mask, eyes narrowed, lips pulled into a thin line. The stinging in his throat barely masked the thought that cut sharp through his mind:
Thank god the oxygen tank jammed the propeller. If it hadn't, both Evgeny and I would've been minced into nothing. That blade didn't just cut water — it was meant to grind flesh. Someone designed that knowing exactly what they were doing.
He dragged the wet suit off his shoulders, letting the cold stone bite into his bare arms. The tunnel around them was pitch black except for the pale beam of Evgeny's flashlight. The air was thick with mildew, damp brickwork pressing in on all sides.
Evgeny crouched, pulling his waterproof bag open with a practiced tug, already unpacking gadgets onto the slick floor. Small blinking lights reflected in his goggles as he spread them out.
"Alright, from the look of things, this canal is connected to the kitchen, bathrooms, garage, and garden." His voice was hushed but precise, the way a soldier reads out coordinates. "The only exit you can realistically fit through would be the manhole by the garage."
He clicked something small and black between his fingers — a camera, its casing shaped like a beetle. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it to Rin. Rin caught it without looking, his palm closing around the device as though it were nothing more than a coin.
"Once you get inside, install this camera. I'll act as your eyes." Evgeny's tone was firm, but Rin could hear the nervous energy underneath.
Rin studied the bug-like camera in his palm for a moment. Its tiny lens glinted faintly, mocking him — fragile technology standing between them and death. He turned it once between his fingers, then slid it into a pouch on his chest harness.
"Understood." His voice was low, curt.
Then, without another word, he rose. His boots splashed softly in the shallow water as he walked deeper into the tunnel, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the silence.
Evgeny called after him, his voice catching:
"Hey—Rin—don't do anything reckless in there."
Rin didn't answer. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder, checked the holster of his sidearm, and pressed on. His mind was already shifting, compartmentalizing fear into focus.
As the darkness thickened, the damp air clung to his skin, and the thought flickered across his mind again:
Evgeny worries too much. But he's not wrong. One wrong move in this place and we're both corpses the state won't even bother to claim.
His jaw tightened.
So be it. I didn't come here for survival. I came here for the truth.
And with that, Rin disappeared into the shadows of the tunnel, leaving Evgeny crouched over his gadgets, listening to the soft echo of his partner's footsteps fade into silence.
The guard outside the manor shifted his weight lazily, humming under his breath to keep himself awake. The night was unnervingly still, broken only by the faint ripple of leaves. He didn't notice the small ball that rolled out from the shadows until it nudged against his boot.
"...What the—?" he muttered, crouching to pick it up.
The moment his fingers brushed the surface, a crackle of electricity surged through him. His body seized, eyes bulging, before he crumpled to the ground in silence, smoke curling faintly from his glove.
From the shadows, Rin lifted the drainage lid, his muscles coiled with cold precision. He waited for a breath, listening — no other footsteps. Good. Then, in a single fluid motion, he slipped out of the tunnel and into the open night air.
The kitchen door was just ahead. Rin darted across the short stretch of lawn, opened it carefully, and slid inside. The tiled floor glistened faintly, the room empty save for pots and utensils glinting in the dim light.
Lucky. No guard rotation here. They're probably posted near the main hall.
He crouched, placing the bug Evgeny had given him on the ground. Its tiny legs unfolded, the machine whirring to life as it began to crawl silently toward the corner.
"Looks like you reached the third floor," Evgeny's voice murmured in his earpiece, calm but urgent. "Put the device onto the ground—"
"Already did," Rin whispered, adjusting his stance.
"Wait—stop."
Rin froze. His instincts screamed at him to stay still. Sure enough, the faint shuffle of footsteps echoed down the hallway. He pressed himself against the wall as two maids passed, their voices soft, their steps unhurried.
"...now go inside," Evgeny urged.
The second the corridor cleared, Rin darted into the study, shutting the door behind him. He exhaled, steadying himself.
The room was suffocatingly familiar.
This is it. This is where that psycho brought me before... if I can find the same passageway, the rest will fall into place.
Rin's hands worked quickly, methodically, as he tapped along the edges of the room. Paneling, shelves, floorboards. Nothing. He circled to the desk, crouching low to feel underneath. His fingers brushed something metallic.
"...a switch," he whispered.
He pressed it.
With a deep rumble, the bookshelf shuddered and slid aside, revealing a narrow passageway cloaked in darkness. Rin's jaw tightened.
"Found it," he thought grimly, stepping inside.
But before he could take more than a few steps—
"INTRUDER ALERT!!"
The manor's silence shattered with alarms. Shouts echoed down the halls, boots clattering across wood. Rin froze, his pulse spiking.
Shit. They know. Someone must've found the guard outside.
He broke into a jog, boots pounding against the hidden corridor. His mind burned:
I have to search the third-floor room before they corner me. If I'm wrong about this, it's over.
At the end of the tunnel, he stumbled upon another concealed cord dangling by the wall. He grabbed it and yanked. The stone groaned, then slid open.
A flood of blinding light poured into the passage, stabbing his eyes. Rin winced, shielding his face.
"...so bright..." he muttered, stepping inside.
The room was exactly as he remembered — curtains drawn, chandeliers blazing even in the dead of night. An unnatural glow radiated off the walls.
He closed the door behind him, yanking the curtains shut. His hand searched for the light switch.
"CHECK ALL THE ROOMS!" The voices outside grew sharper, closer.
Rin clenched his teeth.
No time. No choice.
He drew his pistol and fired three shots upward. The chandelier burst apart in a shower of sparks and glass.
The room plunged into shadows.
And what Rin saw made his blood run cold.