Inside the Villa
The villa was warm despite the snow outside.
In the open kitchen, Ho-Seok stood calmly, sleeves rolled up, chopping vegetables with practiced ease.
The sound of the knife was steady.
No-Gul entered, shrugging off his coat.
Ho-Seok didn't look up.
"Professor Vincent , You're back," he said flatly. "I'm starving."
He chopped harder.
"I haven't eaten all day because of you."
The knife paused.
"Pass me that blade."
Without warning, No-Gul flicked the knife toward him.
"Food cooked by your hands isn't edible anyway." He simply taunt.
Ho-Seok's hand shot up—
catching it midair by the handle.
"Nozh , You live up to your name," He said coolly.
"When it comes to handling knives, no one compares to you."
"So why don't you do it yourself?"
No-Gul turned slowly, his voice low and deliberate.
"I will," he said.
"If that painting isn't found…"
He lifted his hand, examining his leather's fingers with unsettling calm.
"…the first lesson I give will be taught on your hands—starting with my own."
Silence hung heavy between them.
Ho-Seok slammed the knife down on the counter.
"I had to sell because half your hospital assets," he snapped.
"Your bills, the security, the cover-ups—and that project on top of everything."
He turned, eyes sharp.
"And suddenly you wake up and start hunting your dream bride and her painting like a madman."
No -Gul give him side stare eye.
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"Got it, got it… I'll bring that painting."
"For three months you've been having strange dreams," Ho-Seok continued.
"Chasing a dead Indian girl On the basis of your haunted dreams."
No-Gul didn't respond. He turned back to the stove, calmly frying the fish.
"She know my real name," he said evenly,
"And She was here before I regained consciousness,"
Mid-sentence, he paused.
He didn't turn.
He simply snapped his fingers.
From the counter behind him, the oil bottle slid forward on its own. A jar of spices followed, stopping neatly beside the pan.
The oil sizzled softly.
"And no one ever found her body." he continued calmly,
He flipped the fish without looking up.
"That means she didn't dead,"
"She was erased."
The room fell silent—except for the quiet crackle of heat.
Ho-Seok laughed forcefully.
"Stop flexing in front of me — Who knows where you suddenly got these powers from."
" First the dream bride, and after that, these weird powers." he said, shaking his head.
"A year in a coma, and God knows what happened in between."
He leaned against the counter.
"At first, when that nurse said you had disappeared, I thought she was hallucinating."
His smile faded slightly.
"But watching you these past three months…"
"Even I can't understand you anymore."
He looked straight at No-Gul.
"You always had the power to end people… or put them to sleep forever."
A pause.
"But now?"
"You've turned into something else entirely."
A faint, uneasy smile.
"A mafia… who's also a magician."
Ho-Seok exhaled slowly.
"That's a whole different level."
......
Dinner was ready.
Ho-Seok poured milk into a bowl and placed another filled with meat on the floor. The black cat padded over, tail flicking, and began eating quietly.
They sat at the table.
Even the silence felt armed.
Then—
Both phones vibrated at once.
Alert notifications.
CCTV FOOTAGE.
No-Gul's hand moved instantly—gun in his grip.
"Looks like the rats walked straight into the trap."
Ho-Seok pushed his plate away, annoyed.
"Damn it."
"They've completely ruined my appetite."
He stood up, stretching his shoulders, a crooked grin forming on his face.
"Come on," he said dryly.
"It's been a long time since I played with fireworks."
He picked up a glass of water drink it on one sip.
"Now I can go to Korea in peace."
No-Gul moved with precision, checking and loading his weapons one by one, his focus absolute.
Without looking up, he said calmly,
"What I told you—
have you done it?"
Ho-Seok answered while checking his phone.
"Everything's arranged."
He glanced up at No-Gul.
"And just like you wanted—there's a perfect apartment waiting there."
A brief pause.
"You could've involved our men," he said bitterly.
"Why design this entire game around me—alone?"
No-Gul gave him a sideways glance.
Cold. Final.
"Because this isn't just another move," he said quietly.
"This is the last one."
His eyes narrowed.
"And the last strike…
should always be personal."
Suddenly—
The lights cut out.
Darkness swallowed the villa.
No-Gul tilted his head slightly,
"let's wrap this up—
the final ride deserves a proper ending."
A second later—movement.
Shadows slipped inside—first one, then another, then dozens.
Silent. Coordinated.
An entire force pouring in.
One by one, they shifted.
No-Gul stepped forward—his Nozh form awakening.
Ho-Seok moved beside him—calm, lethal, in his Victor form.
The intruders didn't stand a chance.
Gunfire echoed through the villa.
Energy shields flared.
Shots were deflected, bodies dropping one after another like collapsing dominoes.
Then—
No-Gul charged his rifle.
He leapt toward the chandelier, gripping the chain as it swung violently through the air.
From above, he fired in a continuous arc.
The last of them fell.
Silence reclaimed the villa.
Ho-Seok dragged the surviving man across the marble floor and threw him down at No-Gul's feet.
The man was shaking.
No-Gul stepped forward.
Bang.
He fired once—straight into the man's knee.
A scream tore through the hall.
No-Gul crouched calmly, inserting the rifle directly into the man's mouth.
No-Gul (Russian):
«Где Драгунов?»
(Where is Dragunov?)
His eyes were emotionless.
No-Gul (Russian):
«Я буду считать до трёх.»
(I'll count to three.)
The rifle pushed deeper.
No-Gul (Russian):
«Один.»
(One.)
The man choked, struggling to breathe.
The metal pressed further in.
No-Gul (Russian):
«Два.»
(Two.)
The man broke completely, sobbing, words spilling out in panic.
No-Gul pulled the rifle out just enough.
Man (Russian):
«Он… он сейчас за пределами Москвы… на своём частном корабле!»
(He's… he's outside Moscow right now… on his private ship!)
No-Gul straightened slowly.
A faint smirk curved his lips.
No-Gul (Russian):
«Иди.»
(Go.)
The man froze.
No-Gul tilted his head slightly.
No-Gul (Russian):
«Передай ему…»
(Tell him…)
He raised the rifle lazily and fired into the wine collection behind them—
Glass shattered.
Red liquid spilled across the shelves.
Wine like blood.
No-Gul (Russian):
«Он не сможет спастись от этого демона.»
(He won't be able to escape this demon.)
To Be Continued…