Beom-ki buried his face deeper into the pillow, his muffled cries and frustrated groans the only sound he allowed himself to make. His mind was a chaotic storm of thoughts—anger, humiliation, and a simmering fury that refused to be extinguished. This isn't over. I'll make him pay for this. I'll find a way to take back control. He won't get away with this.
Sasha leaned over him again, his breath warm and steady as he exhaled against Beom-ki's ear. "Haah… that's it," he murmured, his voice deep and laced with satisfaction. He bit down lightly on the shell of Beom-ki's ear, drawing a sharp intake of breath from him, before trailing kisses along the back of his neck and down his spine.
The sensation made Beom-ki shudder despite himself, his body instinctively reacting to the unwanted attention. He felt trapped, powerless, as Sasha's lips left a trail of heat on his skin, each kiss a mocking reminder of his inability to fight back in this moment.
"You're so beautiful like this," Sasha purred, his voice soft yet filled with a possessive edge. "Weak, trembling, utterly mine."
Beom-ki's eyes squeezed shut, his teeth grinding together as he tried to block out Sasha's words, his presence, his touch. This doesn't define me, he thought fiercely, clinging to the spark of defiance that still burned within him. I'll survive this. I'll take back my power. And when I do, he'll regret ever crossing me.
"Phew," Sasha exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back as he gazed down at Beom-ki with a smirk of satisfaction. The silence in the room was almost deafening, broken only by their ragged breathing. Sasha tilted his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Mhmm, too silent for me," he muttered, gripping a handful of Beom-ki's hair and pulling his head back sharply.
Beom-ki winced, his body reacting to the harsh pull, his scalp stinging as his head was forced upward. His thoughts raced, a chaotic mess of anger, shame, and helplessness. I'll kill him. I swear, I'll kill him… he thought bitterly, his jaw clenching as he tried to summon any semblance of resistance.
Sasha resumed his movements, this time faster, more relentless, his focus entirely on asserting dominance. Beom-ki's breath hitched, his body trembling beneath the force. "Aaahh… nghhh…" he choked out, the words torn from him against his will. His hands clawed weakly at the sheets, his mind consumed with defiance even as his body betrayed him. I won't give him the satisfaction. I'll fight until my last breath.
"I WILL KILL… I WILL KILL… BLEERGGHH…" Beom-ki's words were cut off as a sudden wave of nausea overwhelmed him. His stomach lurched, and before he could stop it, he vomited all over the bed.
The room fell into a stunned silence.
"Oh… wow…" Sasha muttered, his tone equal parts surprise and irritation as he stared at the mess. His grip on Beom-ki didn't loosen, though. Instead, his expression darkened. With a sudden, rough motion, he yanked Beom-ki's weak body off the bed by his hair and unceremoniously threw him onto the floor.
"Ugh!!" Beom-ki groaned as his body hit the ground with a thud, the impact jarring and painful. His arms shook as he tried to push himself up, his vision blurring as exhaustion and humiliation weighed heavily on him. I can't stay down. I won't let him win, he thought, his mind struggling to cling to that flicker of defiance. He began crawling, his body moving on pure instinct, desperate to create distance.
Behind him, Sasha ripped the soiled bed sheets off the bed with an annoyed huff, tossing them aside. Turning back, his gaze fell on Beom-ki's trembling form inching away. A cruel chuckle escaped his lips. "Aww… look at you," Sasha mocked, his voice dripping with condescension as he stepped forward.
Before Beom-ki could react, Sasha grabbed a fistful of his hair again, yanking him up from the floor with brutal force. Beom-ki let out a pained gasp, his scalp burning as he was dragged back toward the bed. Sasha flung him onto the mattress like a discarded rag doll, the impact knocking the wind out of him.
Beom-ki lay there, his body too weak to resist further, his mind screaming in frustration. Not like this. I'll make him regret this. Just wait, he thought, his teeth gritting as he fought the tears threatening to spill. Every nerve in his body was alight with pain and anger, but deep down, he vowed he wouldn't be broken, no matter how much Sasha tried to dominate him.
Sasha loomed over him, the smirk never leaving his face, clearly savoring the sight of Beom-ki's vulnerable state.
The room reeked of sweat, tobacco, and the faint bitterness of alcohol. Beom-ki lay sprawled on the bed, his body a map of bruises and welts. Every inch of him throbbed with pain, his muscles screaming in protest as he tried to shift even slightly. His legs felt like dead weight, completely numb, and his mind swirled in a fog of exhaustion and humiliation.
I can't feel my legs… he thought weakly, his vision blurring as he stared at the cracked ceiling above. Three days… how am I even still alive?
Across the room, Sasha was the picture of ease. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he exhaled a long stream of smoke, his sharp eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he cradled a glass of liquor in one hand and his cigarette in the other. The contrast between them was almost grotesque—Sasha's relaxed posture and Beom-ki's broken, battered form.
Sasha took another drag from his cigarette, breaking the silence with a low chuckle. "I know, I know," he began, his voice smooth, almost playful. "You've got a million questions swimming in that pretty little head of yours. Let's call this an open forum—ask, and I'll answer."
Beom-ki's jaw clenched, though the motion sent a fresh wave of pain radiating through his face. Bastard. His fists curled weakly at his sides, but he lacked the strength to do anything more than glare at Sasha through half-lidded eyes.
Sasha leaned closer, his hand reaching out to lightly pat Beom-ki's cheek. The gesture was almost affectionate, yet it carried an air of mockery. "You can't die without knowing the whole truth," he murmured, his smirk deepening as his thumb brushed against Beom-ki's swollen lip.
Beom-ki flinched at the contact, his mind racing despite the haze of pain. Truth? What more could he possibly say to make this worse?
Sasha sat back, his grin unwavering. "Ah, where do we start? Oh, I know—you're probably wondering about that little incident at the docks. Remember the man you nearly drowned with?" He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. "That was the real Sasha."
Beom-ki's eyes widened slightly, his battered mind struggling to process the revelation. The real Sasha?
"It was almost too easy," Sasha continued, tapping ash from his cigarette. "He had the misfortune of sharing a name with my dear mother, so I simply... borrowed his identity. Convenient, isn't it?"
The words hit Beom-ki like a punch to the gut, but Sasha wasn't finished. His voice dropped, taking on a more menacing edge. "Oh, and Elena? That was me too. You thought her death was some random act of violence? No. I made it happen."
Beom-ki's chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat. Elena… Her face flashed in his mind, and a fresh wave of anger surged through him. He tried to speak, but Sasha cut him off, his voice dripping with malice.
"Merlin's restaurant explosion? Also me," Sasha said casually, as though discussing the weather. "You were supposed to die there, you know. But somehow, you survived. You're a lucky bastard, Beom-ki."
Lucky? Beom-ki's thoughts turned bitter. If this is luck, I don't want it.
"And then there's the little misunderstanding about AK257," Sasha continued, his smirk returning. "You really thought it was Seraphim?" He laughed, the sound cold and mocking. "Seraphim is too great to be compared to a missile."
Missile? Beom-ki's mind reeled. That's what it was? The realization brought a sick sense of dread. All this time, we were chasing the wrong lead...
Sasha took another drag from his cigarette, his gaze fixed on Beom-ki's trembling form. "When I found out who was sent to bring my empire down," he said, his tone growing darker, "I couldn't resist. You intrigued me, Beom-ki. That's the only reason you're still alive. Your agency, though? They're idiots. Sending a fourth agent after me was laughable. Watching all of you crumble trying to defeat me has been... entertaining."
Beom-ki's fists tightened, his nails digging into his palms despite his weakness. His voice, hoarse and barely audible, finally broke through the oppressive silence. "What… did you do to the agents who came here before me?"
Sasha tilted his head, as if considering the question. "What do you think?" he replied, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. "Did you really expect me to keep them alive?"
Beom-ki's stomach churned. He didn't want to hear the answer, but Sasha gave it anyway, his grin widening. "No, Beom-ki. I killed them. And let me tell you, it was delightful watching them squirm. Each one begged, screamed, cried... just like you."
Rage boiled within Beom-ki, cutting through the pain and exhaustion. This isn't over. I'll survive this. And when I do, I'll make sure you pay for every life you've taken, every person you've hurt.
But Sasha only laughed, as though sensing Beom-ki's silent vow. "Oh, sweetheart," he said, leaning closer once more. "You're not in any position to make threats. But go ahead—ask more questions if it helps you cling to hope. I enjoy watching you struggle."
Beom-ki's glare burned with defiance, even as his body betrayed his weakness. You'll regret this, he thought, his resolve hardening. One way or another, Sasha, you'll regret this.
Sasha leaned back, taking another slow drag from his cigarette, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he regarded Beom-ki's battered form with amusement. His voice was low, smooth, almost conversational. "Ah, the Seraphim Code... I can see it in your eyes, Beom-ki. You've been dying to know about it, haven't you? Your agency... they were obsessed. But do you really think they ever stood a chance of understanding it? Of stopping me?"
Beom-ki glared at him, his lips pressed into a thin line, his body aching with every breath. How does someone even become this twisted? This... powerful?