The restaurant was alive with the hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and laughter. Beom-ki pushed through the crowd, his eyes darting across tables, scanning every corner for the man described in his earpiece. "He's wearing a blue shirt and black jeans, carrying a briefcase," the voice repeated, steady in his ear. As Beom-ki's gaze settled on a lone figure in the corner by the window, he felt a spark of recognition. 'Ah...found him,' Beom-ki thought, keeping his expression neutral as he rose and smoothly fell into stride, his attention now laser-focused on the man weaving toward the exit.
Without missing a beat, Beom-ki murmured into his earpiece, "Nova, prepare the boat," before slipping out after the man, who, by now, seemed to have sensed something. The man quickened his pace, glancing over his shoulder, his face paling as he locked eyes with Beom-ki. Panic flared in the man's eyes, and he broke into a run, shoving past patrons and sending tables clattering in his wake.
"Hey!" Beom-ki shouted, pulling his gun and firing a warning shot. But the bullet missed, embedding itself in a nearby wall, and the man only pushed harder, using other people as human shields, darting between tables and scrambling down narrow pathways. Beom-ki cursed under his breath as he barreled after him, muscles burning with every determined step. He knew exactly where the man was headed — the Han River, where a row of moored boats waited just outside the restaurant's back dock.
The chase spilled out onto the dock, moonlight casting silver streaks over the river's surface. Just as Beom-ki closed in, the man leapt into one of the boats, lunging toward the driver with a gun pointed directly at him.
"Drive the goddamn boat!" he barked, his eyes wild, hand gripping the trembling driver's collar. Terrified, the driver stammered something incoherent but obeyed, starting the engine with a jerk that sent the boat lunging forward.
"Sir, I got you!" Nova's voice crackled in Beom-ki's ear. He glanced to the left and saw Nova speeding toward him in another boat, steering sharply to pull alongside the dock. Without a second thought, Beom-ki sprinted and leapt into the boat, his landing unsteady but determined. In one swift motion, he took control of the wheel, eyes fixed on the other boat as he pushed the throttle forward, sending his own vessel skimming across the water in hot pursuit.
The river was wide, stretching into a silver expanse under the dark sky, dotted with distant lights from bridges and passing barges. The sound of the engines roared, sending ripples splashing against the hull, the boat bucking beneath his grip as he maneuvered, closing in on his target. The criminal was desperately zigzagging, trying to evade Beom-ki, throwing wild glances over his shoulder with every turn.
Beom-ki leaned forward, the wind whipping against his face as he tightened his grip on the throttle, narrowing the gap between their boats inch by inch. His pulse hammered in his ears, and the night seemed to pulse with his determination, his gaze fixed, unwavering. The criminal's boat loomed closer, within reach — he was nearly there.
As the criminal let out a frustrated yell, "OH COME ON," his finger jammed the trigger of his gun, unleashing a rapid hail of bullets aimed straight at Beom's boat. The bullets splintered the wooden deck and whizzed past them, barely missing their heads. Beom gripped the edge of the boat, eyes sharp, guiding it to dodge the shots as the hull creaked under pressure.
"Nova, have you informed the team?" Beom asked, his voice tense but steady, his eyes not leaving the direction of the criminal.
Nova, hunched over a laptop, was frantically typing commands, sweat beading on his forehead. He barely glanced up, fingers moving faster than his thoughts. "Y-yes, sir, I've done that. The team is aware..."
Just then, Nova raised his head and froze. His eyes widened in sheer panic as he spotted something terrifying—the criminal wielding a weapon shaped like a large, venomous fang, a Viper Fang. The sun glinted off its razor-sharp, metallic surface, giving it an eerie glow as it hung in the criminal's hand, ready to unleash devastation.
"SIR, THAT'S A VIPER FANG! IT-IT'LL DESTROY US...AND THE BOAT...OBVIOUSLY!" Nova shouted, voice trembling with fear.
Beom clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing. "I know, I can see. The moment he shoots, we'll jump out. Nova, can you swim to the shore?"
Nova's breath hitched, the terror of the situation sinking in as he glanced between the weapon and the crashing waves below. "Y-Y-YES, SIR!" he stammered, trying to suppress his rising panic.
Beom kept his gaze locked on the criminal, calculating the timing of their escape. "On the count of three...1...2...3...JUMP!" Beom bellowed, and without hesitation, both of them launched themselves overboard, just as the Viper Fang launched a massive energy blast.
The boat exploded behind them with a deafening roar, sending fiery debris and splintered wood in all directions. The shockwave pushed them deeper into the water, engulfing them in a violent surge of bubbles and debris. Under the water, Beom twisted around, locking eyes with Nova. He gestured firmly, signaling him to swim toward the shore. Nova nodded and began swimming with all the strength he could muster, his legs kicking furiously against the strong current.
Beom-ki, on the other hand, had other plans. He veered off, swimming powerfully through the water, his movements quick and efficient as he aimed for the criminal's boat.
Above the surface, the enemy was oblivious, scanning the water for signs of life among the burning wreckage. But Beom-ki moved like a predator beneath the waves, silent and determined. The water was cold against his skin, but his mind was hot with purpose. He surfaced just behind the criminal's boat, grabbing hold of its side, and pulled himself up without a sound.
The criminal had just finished reloading, a smug grin on his face as he prepared for another attack, unaware of the danger creeping up behind him. Beom-ki moved swiftly, water dripping from his clothes, his muscles tense and ready.
With a swift and precise leap, Beom-ki landed on the enemy's boat, the sound of his boots hitting the deck startling the criminal. The criminal, who had been focused on scanning the waters for survivors of the explosion, whipped around in shock. His eyes widened when he saw Beom-ki standing there, drenched but unflinching, like a hunter cornering his prey.
Without hesitation, the criminal's hand darted to his belt, pulling out a sharp, deadly-looking knife. The gleam of the blade caught the sun, and without a word, the criminal lunged forward, slashing wildly at Beom-ki with rapid, erratic swipes. Each cut was meant to tear flesh, aimed to end the fight quickly and brutally.
Beom-ki's reflexes kicked in immediately. He dodged the first swipe, ducking low as the knife sailed just inches from his head. The criminal growled in frustration, his strikes becoming faster, more reckless. He swung again, aiming for Beom-ki's midsection, but Beom-ki was faster, twisting his body to the side in a fluid motion. He sidestepped another swipe, then another, his movements almost effortless as he avoided the deadly blade with precision.
The narrow deck of the boat became a battleground, with the criminal furiously trying to land a hit, his arm moving like a blur. Beom-ki remained calm and calculating, reading the criminal's every move. It was a dance of life and death, each moment measured, each dodge deliberate. Sweat dripped down the criminal's brow as his frustration grew, his breath coming in ragged bursts, while Beom-ki remained eerily composed, his sharp eyes locked on the man's every motion.
Behind them, the boat's driver was cowering, crouched low near the helm, eyes wide with terror. He dared not move, watching the fight unfold with a mixture of fear and awe, praying that the knife wouldn't come flying in his direction. The boat rocked slightly in the water, but the noise of the surrounding sea was drowned out by the tension between the two fighters.
The criminal, realizing his frenzied attack wasn't working, gritted his teeth and lunged with one final desperate strike, aiming directly for Beom-ki's throat. But Beom-ki was ready. In a split second, he stepped to the side, letting the knife slice past him harmlessly, then grabbed the criminal's wrist with a tight, iron grip. With a powerful twist, he wrenched the man's arm, forcing him to drop the knife. The weapon clattered onto the deck with a metallic ring.
Before the criminal could react, Beom-ki delivered a sharp, calculated punch to the man's face. The blow landed squarely on his jaw, sending a jarring shock through the criminal's body. His head snapped back from the force of the hit, but Beom-ki wasn't done yet.
Using the momentum of his punch, Beom-ki spun on his heel with lightning speed, performing a textbook-perfect scissors kick. His legs cut through the air with deadly precision, the heel of his boot connecting with the criminal's head with a sickening thud. The force of the kick was enough to lift the man off his feet momentarily, his body twisting midair before crashing down onto the deck.
The criminal lay sprawled on the ground, his knife just out of reach, his body limp. His head lolled to the side as his consciousness slipped away, the fight completely knocked out of him. He didn't stand a chance against Beom-ki's combination of raw strength and tactical precision.
Beom-ki stood over the unconscious man, breathing heavily but still in control. His hand throbbed from the punch, and he rubbed his knuckles, feeling the sting of the impact. "Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, shaking out his hand as he looked down at the crumpled form of his opponent. The criminal wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.
The driver, still hiding behind the helm, peeked out cautiously, his face pale and filled with fear. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. Beom-ki shot him a glance, his expression calm but firm. "It's over. You're not next… unless you want to be."
The driver, trembling, shook his head frantically, his hands raised in surrender. Beom-ki turned his attention back to the unconscious criminal. He crouched down, quickly checking the man's pulse to ensure he was still alive—though barely. His mission wasn't to kill, just to neutralize the threat, and he had done that with brutal efficiency.
With the criminal out cold, Beom-ki moved to the boat's controls, taking charge. He knew the team was already on their way, but there was still work to be done. He cast one last glance at the horizon, scanning for any further threats, before setting a course toward the shoreline. The water beneath the boat began to churn as the engine roared back to life, cutting through the sea like a knife.