Meanwhile, at the same hotel, the hidden security room deep within Hotel Nishiyama Premier was dim, the air faintly humming with the low whir of machines. Along the far wall, a bank of high-resolution monitors streamed live surveillance feeds from every corner of the property. The lantern-lit main lobby, the polished elevator halls lined with shoji panels, the hushed VIP lounges with cedarwood accents, and even the shadowed corridors leading toward the guest suites.
At the center of it all stood Yamada Renji. Early fifties, sharp as a blade in a tailored black suit, his eyes were locked on a single feed. The east wing hallway on the tenth floor, where Junho walked alone past the framed Kyoto landscapes.
Beside him, a younger operative adjusted the camera controls, switching between angles of the same hallway.
"The girl's still close," the operative murmured, his voice barely carrying over the soft hum of the monitors. "Too risky."
Renji clicked his pen once, the sound unnervingly loud in the enclosed space.
"Takeda-sama's orders are clear," he said, his gaze never leaving the screen. "We wait until he's alone. The moment she's not in proximity… we take him."
He paused, eyes narrowing as the feed shifted to show Seri passing the corner outside the suite area.
"And if she interferes again…" His voice dropped lower, the weight behind it chilling. "…make sure she doesn't get the chance."
Silence fell. The only sound came from the faint trickle of water in the ornamental fountain outside the room, its presence barely audible through the reinforced walls.
"Takeda wants him alive," Renji continued, stepping back with his hands clasped neatly behind him. "Make sure he stays that way. But no mistakes."
The agents standing along the back wall, their black tactical gear blending into the shadows… straightened at once.
"Understood," they answered in perfect unison.
One operative tapped his earpiece, transmitting the command to those stationed near the underground parking entrance and the service corridor by the banquet hall. The others began checking their equipment with practiced precision, the glint of steel catching the muted glow from the monitors.
While in the VIP Lounge of Hotel Nishiyama Premier in Kyoto, the tall double doors opened with a gentle push, allowing warm lighting to spill into the hallway and reveal the stunning private dining space within.
Warm lighting spills into the hallway, revealing a stunning private dining space. Polished wood walls frame the room, soft jazz hums in the background, and a panoramic view of Kyoto's city lights glows through the high glass windows.
A long mahogany table stretches across the room, adorned with a lavish spread that could feed a royal family.
Sizzling yakiniku, fresh sashimi on ice, gold-flaked wagyu sushi, and steaming bowls of Chinese-style black pepper crab, xiao long bao, and mapo tofu fill the center. On the sides are delicate towers of desserts, wagashi, and even a small fondue fountain bubbling in chocolate elegance.
Daejin half-whispers, impressed.
"Are we eating… or hosting a diplomatic summit?"
Bora suddenly becomes hyped, placing her hands to her cheeks. "OMO, did they invite Michelin stars instead of chefs? Wait, is that lobster swimming in chili oil?"
Taehyun casually adjusts his blazer.
"Welcome to Kyoto. Where even the appetizer has a resume."
Junho walks in last, his eyes scanning the Hotel Nishiyama Premiere's VIP Lounge. He is not looking at the food but at the setup and possible exits, his focus subtle and controlled.
Seri stands beside him and mutters just low enough for him to hear.
"Security's too loose near the west side. And the staff in the far corner… they're not kitchen. Their shoes are wrong."
Junho glances over.
"You see it too?"
Before she can answer, a staff member in a white glove steps forward with a courteous bow.
"Mr. Kang, Mr. Lee… welcome. We hope the arrangements are to your liking. Mr. Nakamura will be arriving shortly."
Taehyun smiles.
"Let's eat before Bora climbs into the dessert tower."
Bora is caught mid-reach.
"HEY. It's for research purposes. You know, to understand cultural sweetness…"
The warm hum of low conversation is interrupted by the soft clicks of polished shoes against the marble floor of the Kyoto hotel's VIP Lounge.
The double doors open again, this time with a noticeable air of protocol.
A tall Japanese man in his late fifties, his sharp suit tailored to perfection, walks in flanked by two discreet yet clearly trained security officers. His presence alone commands the room without a word.
Mr. Nakamura, the Director of International Affairs from Hyunmyeong Group and representative tied to the Baekdu Project, approaches with a refined smile, the kind that is both diplomatic and deadly.
"Good evening. I hope the arrangements meet your expectations. It is an honor to finally welcome you to Kyoto."
Junho steps forward first, offering a courteous bow. Taehyun follows, equally composed, though his eyes briefly flicker to the guards' subtle hand movements.
"Thank you for the welcome, Mr. Nakamura. We're looking forward to a fruitful collaboration."
"Indeed. Much has been prepared. And much must be revealed."
His eyes slowly shift, first landing on Junho for a beat too long. A knowing glint flickers behind his glasses as if he is not just meeting an associate but greeting someone whose file he has memorized.
Junho, calm on the surface, tightens his grip on his wine glass. His jaw twitches slightly. He recognizes the look.
A silent storm brews.
Then Nakamura's gaze glides across the table until it locks with Seri. It is different this time.
Not just curious. Not professional. It is sharp and testing, like a man peeling back layers of a familiar mask.
Seri's expression remains still, though the faintest flicker in her eyes betrays something deeper. She knows this man.
She knows him not from briefings, not from files, but from a darker, buried part of the Iwao network. The weight of it settles over her like a shadow.
Taehyun, from across the table, sees it. He watches her inhale once, quiet but measured. She is remembering.
Nakamura smiles, but it is a slow, calculated smile.
"Some of us have walked longer roads than others… but in the end, the path always brings us back together."
A quiet pause follows.
Bora, oblivious to the tension, nibbles a rice cracker and whispers to Daejin.
"If someone pulls out a gun, I swear I'll throw myself behind the tempura tray. At least I'll die crispy."
Daejin's reply is deadpan.
"Please don't start assigning hiding spots."
Nakamura glances briefly at his guards. Without a single word, all the guards silently step back and exit the room like clockwork. The air inside the VIP Lounge turns dense with unspoken authority.
Bora stiffens and whispers to Daejin.
"Okay… Did he just telepathically fire his security team?"
Daejin suppresses a smirk.
"Just don't scream if the lights flicker."
Nakamura settles into his seat, his voice calm but commanding.
"Please, enjoy the meal. There's no need for formalities tonight."
The others begin to eat, chopsticks moving, small clinks of plates and soft chatter echoing through the elegant Kyoto lounge. The moment is sliced by Nakamura's sudden question.
"You… Are you new to the team?" His eyes narrow slightly at Hanna.
Hanna smiles politely, setting her chopsticks down.
"Not exactly. I've worked with Kang Corporation for a while… just not always on the front line."
She glances at Junho briefly, then adds with a diplomatic tone.
"I'm here to support the Kyoto collaboration. Media coordination, mostly."
Nakamura nods slowly, his smile difficult to read. "Interesting. A fresh face among familiar shadows."
His gaze lingers a second too long, first on Hanna, then past her toward Seri. His eyes are calm but observant, as if peeling layers in silence.
Seri keeps her composure, but under the table, her fingers tighten around her napkin.
The dinner progresses with pleasant conversation and flowing dishes. The team discusses the project over courses of delicately plated sashimi, golden tempura, and steaming bamboo baskets. Laughter occasionally rises, mostly from Bora, while Seri remains quiet, her eyes occasionally flicking toward Nakamura, calculating.
A knock interrupts. Soft, polite, but cutting through the chatter like a blade.
The large door creaks open, and a sharply dressed man in a fitted black suit steps in. He moves quickly but silently toward Nakamura.
He leans in and whispers something into his ear, low and inaudible.
Nakamura's face does not change. He simply lifts his gaze toward the group and nods once.
"Excuse me for a moment. Well… it seems I have another matter to attend to tonight."
The room shifts with his movement. Junho immediately stands. The rest follow, Seri, Taehyun, Hanna, Bora, and Daejin… standing in a line with the formality of boardroom etiquette.
They all give a respectful bow.
"Thank you for the dinner."
Nakamura nods politely, but just as he turns to leave, he pauses. His gaze sweeps over the group and then lands on Seri.
A flicker. A controlled, deliberate stare.
It is not long, but it is sharp. Seri straightens subtly. She meets his eyes with practiced calm, but the weight in her chest tightens.
From across the table, Taehyun notices. His fingers stop tapping. He glances between Nakamura and Seri, then back again.
A signal has been given. No words spoken. But something has passed between them, unmistakable.
As Nakamura gives a small nod and walks out, Bora stretches and yawns dramatically, oblivious as always.
"Okayyy, I'm officially full. If I eat another bite, I might explode, and I still need to fit into my Kyoto gala dress."
She chuckles to herself, patting her stomach, completely missing the mood.
Hanna turns sweetly to Junho.
"Mr. Kang, the dessert was beautiful, right? Kyoto knows how to treat its guests."
Junho barely hears her, his eyes still on Seri.
"…It was fine."
Daejin watches all the faces at the table and silently sips his tea, already bracing for what might come next.
Seri stands up gently, placing her napkin aside.
"Excuse me… I just need to freshen up."
Taehyun watches her with calm intensity. Junho's eyes flick up immediately, sharp and focused. He says nothing, but his jaw tightens just slightly.