Emris pulled a hacksaw from his bag.
Slowly. Steadily.
He cut the girl's body into equal pieces — same length, same diameter. His face was covered with a mask and glasses. His body was wrapped in plastic to prevent blood from staining him.
He worked without emotion.
Hands and legs separated like pieces of wood. He placed them neatly aside.
With a wire stripper, he removed her eyes while humming softly — as if he were repairing a machine rather than dismantling a human body.
He drilled into her chest with a cordless drill, the loud mechanical sound filling the room as he extracted her heart.
Piece by piece, he washed the parts under the tap beside him. Each one went into separate bags.
He cleaned everything meticulously.
Two men entered and bowed.
"Sir, allow us to wrap up the mess and burn your costume."
Emris smiled faintly and nodded, still humming.
But where was he?
Only one man knew.
The President.
The hidden Akhnada location.
Emris changed quickly and stepped into a BMW. His driver opened the door for him. He smirked and sat inside.
The car moved straight toward the President's residence.
When Emris entered secretly, President Kang was sipping champagne. He turned as Emris approached.
"Finally," Mr. Kang said, stepping closer. "You're here."
As Emris arrived secretly, President Kim was standing near the large glass window, sipping champagne. He slowly turned around when he sensed his presence.
"Finally… you're here," Mr. Kim said, stepping closer.
Kim extended his hand for a handshake. Emris smirked and shook it, his sharp gaze locking with Kim's.
"Eighty percent. I want eighty percent this time," Emris said bluntly, his expression neutral and cold.
Kim's eyes widened. He abruptly pulled his hand away.
"Are you in your senses?" Kim barked, slamming his palm against the table behind him.
Emris only smirked. He began humming softly as he walked toward the President's chair. Without hesitation, he sat down in it, placing both legs casually on the table — one crossed over the other — his head leaning slightly back against the chair. He raised an eyebrow.
"Do you want me to repeat myself?"
Kim clenched his jaw. Both his hands pressed firmly against the table as he leaned forward, staring directly into Emris's eyes.
"Don't joke here."
Emris let out a low laugh.
"Were you joking when you exchanged the late President's son?" he asked coldly. "I have the recording of you doing it."
Kim chuckled sharply.
"And I have your plastic surgery documents."
The air between them shifted instantly. Both men were fuming — not loud, but dangerous.
"We're equal," Kim said, adjusting his tie and clasping his hands behind his back. "We're in the same boat."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Emris muttered, rolling his eyes as he stood up.
"Fifty-fifty, then."
Kim gave a slow nod and gestured toward the door, signaling him to leave.
Flashback
"Zoya! Zoya, I'm coming!" Ali Hameed laughed like an excited child, a wide smile across his face as he quickly signed the last document. His phone was pressed to his ear while he signaled the guards to start the cars.
Hurriedly stepping into the vehicle, he ordered the driver, "Fast."
His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. Anxiety mixed with excitement churned inside him. He took a deep breath.
"Babe, are you alright?" he asked into the phone.
"I'm fine," Zoya replied softly.
He refused to end the call, checking every minute as if time itself had slowed down.
Finally, the car stopped at Seoul National Hospital. Ali didn't wait for the driver or the guards. He rushed out and entered the hospital, where staff stood respectfully and bowed as he passed.
His heart pounded violently.
Second floor. Room one.
His steps were quick, almost trembling. Sweat formed on his forehead — nervous, yet overwhelmingly happy.
He pushed the door open.
Zoya lay on the hospital bed, holding a newborn in her arms.
Their eyes met. Love passed silently between them.
Ali froze.
He stared at the child, unable to move.
The phone was still in his hand.
"Ali… Ali, come here," Zoya called gently, pulling him back to reality.
He stepped forward slowly, emotions heavy in his chest.
"Can I hold him?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
Zoya nodded.
Ali carefully took the child into his arms.
"Alhamdulillah… my wife is healthy," he whispered, pausing as his eyes softened. "And my child too."
He leaned close and softly recited the azaan into the baby's ear. Zoya watched silently, tears of happiness forming in her eyes. They were alone in the room.
"My pearl," Ali murmured, kissing Zoya's forehead. She blushed faintly.
Hours passed as they discussed names.
"Czar?" Zoya suggested gently.
Ali smiled. "Yes… it's beautiful."
The baby slept peacefully in his arms.
The doctors informed Ali that both mother and child would need to stay under observation overnight due to the emergency delivery. Ali agreed and ordered guards to remain outside the room. He chose to sleep on the couch nearby.
At 11 PM, Ali was still awake, watching Zoya and the baby sleep peacefully.
A nurse entered quietly.
"Sir, we need to check the baby's medical record. May I take him?"
Ali nodded and handed the baby to her.
But the nurse was not ordinary.
She was Kim's agent.
She carried the child to the neonatal section, where several newborns were placed in numbered slots for observation. Kim was already there.
He took the baby in his hands.
"Slot number seven," Kim whispered. "Same face. Same features. That one is weak — he won't survive long. Exchange them. Quickly."
Within seconds, the babies were swapped.
The guards outside? They were already under Kim's control.
"Your legacy will not continue through your wife and child," Kim smirked. "Both will be gone soon."
Slot number seven belonged to the son of Mr. Ayaan Warner.
Unknown to Kim, Kang — his close associate — had secretly paid the nurse two hundred million to record the entire exchange. Kang kept that recording as leverage, ensuring Kim could never betray him.
Flashback ends.