The air inside Taehyun's room at the Kyoto hotel was heavy with urgency. Dim light pooled across the floor, shadows stretching and bending with every small movement. Seri stood rigid, arms crossed tightly, her gaze fixed on the notes and map scattered across the table, her mind racing. Taehyun moved to his luggage, unzipping a hidden side flap and revealing a sleek cedar case engraved with faint kanji. Inside lay compact Japanese tactical tools…a foldable tanbo stick, a rope dart, and a concealed blade. With practiced precision, he strapped one to his side and shut the case.
"We don't have time, Ken," Seri said, her voice low and tense as she turned sharply toward him. "If Takeda's men make another move, we might not get a second chance."
Taehyun met her eyes, understanding exactly what she was about to ask.
"Find him. Wherever Junho is… don't let him out of your sight."
She crossed the room, taking a piece of tactical gear and sliding it beneath her coat. "Takeda's already tested the waters. The next time, it won't be a warning. They'll take him."
Taehyun's jaw tightened as he secured his gear. "Got it."
Their eyes held for a moment, her gaze sharp and resolute, though beneath it lingered a flicker of unspoken fear.
Meanwhile, just outside the Nishiyama Premier hotel, beneath a row of illuminated trees swaying in the night breeze, Junho and Hanna stood facing each other, the intensity between them colder than the night air.
Junho suddenly snatched the glasses from her hands, his voice firm. "Don't do this, Hanna. My power might see the truth… but it can't change it."
Her eyes glistened as she managed a small, broken smile. "But if you see my heart… even once, maybe you'll understand…"
"I did understand," he cut in, his tone gentle but unwavering. "That's why it hurt. It hurt because my heart was waiting for you all this time. But it was never enough. You never really saw me, not the way I stood there, hoping you'd turn around. I was right there… but to you, I was invisible."
Tears welled in her eyes, her voice trembling. "I pushed you away because I was scared, Junho. Scared of your power… of how easily you could see through me, even when I tried to hide. It felt like I had no place to protect my heart." She took a shaky breath, her gaze unwavering. "But now I realize… the truly scary thing isn't you reading my thoughts. It's feeling what it's like to be the one pushed away."
Her voice softened, breaking. "Junho… if there's even a piece of you left that once loved me, then give me a chance. Not to rewrite the past but to love you again. Properly. Bravely." She stepped closer, eyes pleading. "Let me try. Just once more… let me try to reach your heart."
Junho's expression shifted, startled, the weight of her words settling heavily in him. He opened his mouth to speak…
VRROOOOM!
A black car tore down the far end of the quiet street, headlights flaring like white fire, moving at a speed that made the air itself tense.
SCREEECH!
Hanna gasped, eyes wide. "Junho—!"
In an instant, the world narrowed to the roar of the engine and the blinding light bearing down on them. The car charged forward, unstoppable, their bodies frozen in its path.
A scream.
Then.
At the same moment, inside Hotel Nishiyama Suite 708 in Kyoto, a few agents were scattered around the spacious room. One sat reviewing files at a low table while another adjusted compact tech equipment near the wall. Someone leaned back in a chair, munching lazily on a konbini snack. The air was quiet but tense, the kind of silence that sat heavily over the tatami-colored carpet and cream walls.
The sudden chime of the doorbell cut through it.
Ding dong.
One agent muttered in fluent Japanese, "Who the hell rings at this hour?"
Another walked cautiously toward the door, stepping over a small stack of open folders. He peered through the peephole, brow furrowing. "Strange… no one's there," he said in Japanese. His hand moved slowly toward the handle.
CRASH. The door blasted open with a powerful kick that sent it slamming against the wall.
Seri stepped inside confidently, her smirk sharp, her coat falling loosely from her shoulders. "Konnichiwa, amateurs. Missed me?"
The agents froze, some halfway to drawing their weapons. But Seri was already moving. She spun in one fluid motion and struck the first man in the neck, dropping him instantly. Another lunged. She ducked low and swept his legs with a brutal kick, sending him crashing into the coffee table. A third pulled a blade, but she disarmed him in a flash, slamming his wrist against the wall until a sharp crack made him scream.
The final man tried to bolt for the hallway, but Seri's hand shot out, grabbing his collar and yanking him back. Her eyes blazed. In a low, icy tone she hissed, "Fun being Takeda's clown?" Without loosening her grip, she continued, "But you picked the wrong side."
She smashed his head into the wall, his body slumping unconscious. Silence settled over the room, broken only by the faint hum of the tech equipment still running in the corner. The other agents groaned faintly on the floor.
Panting lightly, Seri walked toward the last conscious one, who was now crawling backward with terror in his eyes. She grabbed a fallen baton from the carpet and with one fierce swing knocked him out cold. His body hit the ground and stayed there.
A sharp vibration buzzed from her back pocket.
RING. RING.
She pulled out her phone, the screen flashing TAEHYUN's name.
"Seri… we have to find Takeda," his breathless voice came through. "They've already taken him… and Hanna."
Her eyes widened. "What?! You lost them?"
"I was seconds away," Taehyun's voice tightened, "but a black car took them. It was fast. Clean. We have to move now."
Seri's tone hardened. "I'm on my way."
Her eyes swept the hotel suite one last time, scanning every corner. Bloodied and broken men lay sprawled across the floor among scattered weapons and overturned furniture. A half-open drawer caught her attention.
Inside were two Takeda-issued tools ,a foldable tantō blade and a shock ring disguised as a silver accessory. She took both without hesitation, sliding the blade neatly into her coat and slipping the ring onto her finger.
As she stepped out into the hallway of Kyoto's Hotel Suite 708, her voice cut cold in Japanese. "Wait for me, Takeda."
Before Seri and Taehyun set out to find Takeda, they knew they had to prepare…not just in caution, but for the war they might be walking into at his stronghold. The path ahead would be more than a confrontation. It could be a siege. And so, instead of heading directly to Takeda's place, they turned toward the one location where they could gather the tools, allies, and resolve they would need.
Iwao's headquarters in Kyoto rose like a fortress carved from the city's old soul, its form a seamless fusion of sweeping tiled roofs, curved eaves, and heavy stonework that caught the moonlight in muted silver. Lanterns glowed dimly beneath the ridges, their warm halos pooling on the paved courtyard. Armed guards in dark indigo uniforms stood at rigid attention, sleek weapons hidden beneath their rob
As Seri and Taehyun approached the grand entrance, the guards straightened. It was not in challenge, but in recognition. One guard's gaze locked on her, and a whisper passed among them like wind through bamboo. Without a word, they stepped aside, granting her passage.
The gates creaked open, revealing a lantern-lit path lined with paper lamps, each flickering softly, leading deeper into the place where she had once been raised and trained.
Inside, two guards in traditional black attire stood with hands resting lightly on their blades. Their eyes fell on her. They froze. Then, like clockwork, they bowed, the gesture slow and deliberate.
Taehyun's gaze slid toward her, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, but she did not slow her stride. Every step echoed through the quiet corridor. Every guard they passed bowed subtly not from formality, but from something deeper.
Fear. Legacy. Memory.
This was not just Seri walking through Iwao's gates. This was Takamine Aira returning to the heart of the empire she had once called home.
At the end of the hall, the sliding doors opened with a low, resonant creak, revealing a vast, dimly lit chamber hidden deep within the building's core.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of old incense and polished cedarwood. Shadows swayed across the tatami-lined floor under the flicker of hanging lanterns. Ancient scrolls bearing warrior codes hung along the walls, and blades from centuries past rested in quiet reverence.
At the far end stood a low table of blackened wood carved with dragon motifs ,the sacred meeting place of Iwao and his most trusted operatives. Behind it, a shoji screen concealed the deeper quarters where no one spoke of what lay beyond. In the center of the table, a single candle burned, a silent witness to every oath, betrayal, and bargain sealed in this room.
As Seri entered, the silence shifted, as if the walls themselves remembered her. Taehyun slowed his steps, feeling the weight of memory pressing into the air. The sliding door opened fully to reveal not Iwao, but a sharply dressed man in his late forties with slicked-back silver hair — Kobayashi Gin, Iwao's long-time assistant. His eyes, sharp and unblinking, missed nothing. Rising slightly, he offered a polite bow and a knowing smile.
"Welcome home, Takamine Aira."
Seri allowed the faintest of smiles in return, tension easing for only a second.
"And you must be Ken Taehyun," Kobayashi continued, glancing briefly at him. "I've heard whispers about you."
Taehyun bowed slightly, his expression respectful but his eyes assessing. Seri and Taehyun took their seats while Kobayashi remained standing, his gaze steady.
"I'm already aware of what's happening," he said quietly. "But there are things you don't know. Let me explain them before you meet the Head."