The sound of a car engine humming pulled Beom back to the present. His body jolted upright, his heart pounding in his chest as his eyes darted around. He was in a car, the scenery outside rushing by in a blur. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was or how he got there, the lines between past and present blurring in his mind.
"Oh, you're awake," a familiar voice said from the driver's seat, smooth and nonchalant. Beom turned his head to see Sasha glancing at him, a sly smile playing on his lips.
"I thought you'd never wake up," Sasha continued, his tone almost teasing. "You've been out for a while."
Beom blinked slowly, the ache in the back of his head making it difficult to focus. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling as he tried to shake off the lingering haze. The adrenaline from whatever had happened earlier still coursed through his veins, leaving his nerves frayed. He leaned back in his seat, pressing his hand to the sore spot at the back of his head. A low groan escaped his lips, his fingers massaging the tender area in an attempt to ease the dull, throbbing pain.
"What… what happened?" Beom finally managed to croak out, his voice hoarse and edged with confusion. His gaze shifted to Sasha, who was casually driving as if everything was perfectly normal. The stark contrast between his own disorientation and Sasha's nonchalant demeanor only heightened Beom's irritation.
Sasha glanced at him briefly through the rearview mirror, an amused smile playing on his lips. "A whole lot happened while you were out," he said, his tone almost teasing. "Don't you remember anything?"
Beom frowned, trying to piece together the fragmented images in his mind. He remembered running, a gunshot, and then that face—the man from Merlin's café—but everything after that was a blur. "Mhmm… no… not at all," he muttered, shaking his head slightly, which only made the pain worse. "What happened?"
Sasha let out a light chuckle, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. "Well… it's pretty embarrassing," he said, the smirk on his face deepening. "If you don't remember, maybe it's better that way. No need to dredge it up."
Beom's patience was already thin, and Sasha's cryptic response wasn't helping. His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides as he snapped, "Stop beating around the bush and spit it out. What the hell happened?"
Sasha sighed dramatically, as if telling the story was some great burden. "Well, back on the train when I returned to the room, you weren't there," he began. "I even checked the bathroom, but you weren't there either. So, naturally, I went out looking for you. Checked all the areas I thought you might be. And then—there you were. Laying there in front of the washroom like a lifeless chicken."
Beom's face flushed with embarrassment and annoyance. Lifeless chicken? Seriously? He glared at Sasha, who seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much as he recounted the events.
Sasha glanced at him again, clearly entertained by Beom's reaction. "I'm not kidding. You were sprawled out, completely knocked out. It was almost pathetic. If I hadn't been there, who knows what could've happened?"
Before Beom could retort, a face flashed vividly in his mind. The memory of the man he'd seen before everything went black resurfaced, his sharp features and cold gaze sending a shiver down Beom's spine. His expression turned serious as the pieces started to click. "Speaking of Namjoon," Beom began, his voice more focused now, "I went out looking for him—and you—because he wasn't there in the camera feed. That's when I got attacked by this guy."
Sasha's eyebrow arched slightly, his interest piqued. "Guy? What guy?"
Beom rubbed his temples, trying to steady the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind. "I remember him," he said, his tone laced with unease. "I saw him before… at Merlin's café. The day the place exploded."
As he spoke, the memory became sharper, more vivid. The man's face had been etched into his mind ever since that day. The way he'd stared at Beom before everything went to hell, as if he'd been sizing him up for something. Now, seeing him again on the train, it was no coincidence.
Beom's thoughts spiraled. Why was he there? Did he know I was looking for Namjoon? Was he connected to the explosion at Merlin's? His stomach twisted with unease, the puzzle pieces coming together in ways that only made the situation more terrifying.
Beom shifted in his seat, still rubbing the back of his head, the questions flooding his mind faster than he could piece together any solid answers. He was still frustrated with Sasha for leaving out details, and every bit of information was only adding to the growing confusion. When Sasha casually mentioned seeing someone else, a guy "way out of league," Beom's curiosity piqued immediately.
"And…?" Beom pressed, sensing there was more to the story. Sasha's demeanor was as infuriatingly nonchalant as always.
"And that's it," Sasha said with a faint smile, like he was savoring the mystery himself. Beom's patience was hanging by a thread.
"You had the opportunity to attack, to pin them down, and ask them questions—but you didn't," Beom muttered, feeling a surge of annoyance building up. He'd been lying there unconscious, completely vulnerable, while Sasha seemingly held back from taking action. "What were you waiting for?" he thought, his irritation spilling over into his words.
"What do you expect me to do, huh?" Sasha replied, his tone calm yet defensive. "I needed to protect myself first before thinking about anyone else. Couldn't exactly throw myself into a situation without knowing who was around. I can't protect you if I'm taken down too."
Beom gritted his teeth, holding back a sharp reply. You clearly had the opportunity, you idiot, he thought, casting a sidelong glance at Sasha. Sasha was competent enough; Beom had seen him handle tough situations before, so why the hesitation? But instead of dwelling, he took a different approach, trying to make sense of the situation.
"So, those people," Beom asked, his voice carrying a note of suspicion, "they were sent by Yaroslav, right?" It was the only explanation that made sense to him. If Yaroslav had men looking for him, things were about to get even messier.
"Nope," Sasha said, shaking his head. "And definitely not sent by Namjoon. They weren't connected to him either." Sasha's tone was definitive, but it only made things murkier for Beom. Who else would be after them?
"Then who were those people who attacked me?" Beom's thoughts spiraled as he tried to piece it all together, his mind racing with unanswered questions. Every answer Sasha gave felt like it only raised more questions. Who would want to come after me if it's not Yaroslav or Namjoon? He couldn't shake the sense that there was more going on, something deeper, and that Sasha wasn't telling him everything he knew.
Then, as he replayed the events in his mind, a memory resurfaced. The last thing he'd seen before he blacked out—a flash of blonde hair. Beom's mind zeroed in on that one detail, a detail that he hadn't quite put together until now. He turned to Sasha, his gaze sharp, feeling a knot of suspicion twisting in his gut.
"Come to think of it," Beom said slowly, "when I collapsed, I saw someone… blonde." He hesitated, the words hanging in the air as he looked Sasha directly in the eyes. "So… where were you?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even, though his suspicion was evident.
Sasha chuckled, his response laced with a hint of amusement that only deepened Beom's frustration. His tone was coy, like he was enjoying holding all the cards. "Why, Beom," he drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "are you accusing me of something?"
Beom clenched his fists, a mix of anger and confusion churning inside him. Is he messing with me? Or is he hiding something? The thought made his stomach twist. He could feel his distrust building, but he needed to keep his composure if he wanted any real answers.
Sasha leaned back, clearly unfazed, as if he was waiting to see how much he could push Beom's patience. "If you're so curious, then maybe you should ask yourself why you were wandering around like that in the first place," Sasha said, a sly smile playing on his lips.
Beom shot Sasha a glare, his frustration mounting as Sasha's smug tone only added fuel to the fire. "Because I went searching for you and Namjoon, dumbass," Beom snapped, his voice dripping with irritation. He crossed his arms defensively, trying to mask the embarrassment creeping in at Sasha's insinuation.
Sasha chuckled, clearly unfazed by Beom's response. He leaned back casually, one hand still on the wheel as his lips curled into that infuriatingly smug grin. "Really? Everywhere, you say? Then why didn't I see you at the conductor's office?" Sasha asked, his tone pointed yet teasing, as if he was enjoying catching Beom off guard.
Beom froze for a moment, his brain scrambling to process Sasha's words. The conductor's office? The thought hit him like a ton of bricks. How had he overlooked such an obvious place? His lips parted slightly as the realization sank in, but he quickly shut them, not wanting to give Sasha the satisfaction of seeing him rattled.
"That… slipped my mind," Beom admitted silently to himself, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to think of a comeback that wouldn't make him sound completely incompetent. But before he could say anything, Sasha's voice cut through his thoughts like a blade.
"Yes," Sasha drawled, drawing out the word for emphasis, "I spent my time watching the cameras all night. Unlike someone who fell asleep, conveniently forgetting there's a target on the loose." His words were sharp, delivered with a cocky edge that made Beom's blood boil.
Beom clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he tried to keep his temper in check. Of course he'd throw that in my face, he thought bitterly. He hated how Sasha always managed to twist the narrative to make himself look better. So what if I passed out for a bit? I've been on edge for days, running on fumes. It's not like he's been carrying this mission solo.
"That's rich, coming from someone who conveniently shows up after the action," Beom retorted in his head, biting his tongue to keep from escalating the argument. Instead, he exhaled sharply and forced himself to focus on the bigger picture. "Why the hell would Sasha go to the conductor's office, anyway?" he wondered, narrowing his eyes at Sasha suspiciously. He's always a step ahead, but he never explains himself. What's his deal?
"Why didn't you mention this sooner?" Beom finally asked, his voice low but edged with irritation. "If you were in the conductor's office all night, why didn't you tell me when you found me?"
Sasha smirked, glancing at Beom briefly before returning his eyes to the road. "Because you were out cold, remember? Not exactly the best time for a heart-to-heart," he replied smoothly, his tone laced with amusement.
Beom bristled at the remark, grinding his teeth as he struggled to come up with a response. He's impossible, Beom thought, his frustration mounting. Why does he always act like he's the only one who knows what he's doing?
But even as he stewed, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind wouldn't go away. Why didn't I think of the conductor's office? Beom thought, the embarrassment still gnawing at him. Sasha was probably checking the footage for clues. Did he find anything? Did he see the guy who attacked me? His thoughts raced as he tried to connect the dots, but the pieces just weren't fitting together.
"So, what did you find?" Beom asked, his tone clipped. He wasn't in the mood for Sasha's games but needed answers.
"Plenty," Sasha replied cryptically, his smirk widening. "But maybe next time, try checking the obvious places first before running around like a headless chicken."
Beom's jaw tightened, the urge to punch Sasha rising with every word. This guy… he thought angrily. But beneath the anger was something else—a nagging doubt, a sinking feeling that Sasha wasn't telling him everything.
Beom's frustration hit its peak as Sasha's smirk deepened. He hated that grin—it was infuriating, patronizing, and above all, always made Beom feel like he was a step behind. But instead of snapping back, Beom forced himself to breathe, leaning further back into his seat as he tried to gather his thoughts.
"You're impossible," Beom muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. His mind was racing with questions. Plenty? What does he mean by plenty? If he found something useful in the conductor's office, why hasn't he told me yet? His eyes narrowed at Sasha's profile, searching for any clue in his expression. But Sasha, as usual, was unreadable, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
Beom sighed, shaking his head. "So, are you going to tell me what you found, or are you just going to keep acting mysterious and smug all day?" he finally said, his voice edged with irritation.
Sasha glanced at him briefly, that infuriating smirk still on his face. "Patience, Beom-ki. It's a virtue, you know."
Beom clenched his fists. "Don't talk to me about patience. I've been chasing shadows all day, got knocked out, and now you're sitting there acting like you hold all the cards. If you have something, just say it," he snapped, his temper finally breaking.
Sasha's smirk faltered for a split second, and Beom caught it—a flicker of something that looked almost like hesitation. Then, without a word, Sasha reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek black device. He held it out toward Beom.
"What's this?" Beom asked, eyeing the device suspiciously. It was small, no bigger than a smartphone, with a screen that displayed a blinking red dot overlaid on a digital map.
"A tracker," Sasha said simply. "I managed to get a lock on Namjoon. That's his location."
Beom stared at the device, his heart skipping a beat. A tracker? He couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and disbelief. Finally, something tangible, something that could lead them to Namjoon. But as he reached out to take it, doubt crept into his mind.
"How did you get this?" Beom asked, narrowing his eyes at Sasha. "And why didn't you mention it earlier?"