Eun-jae's sharp eyes flickered through the sea of influential figures as he carefully navigated the room, keeping his movements smooth and deliberate. Blending in was crucial. One wrong move, one misplaced glance, and his cover would be blown.
The real problem? How the hell was he supposed to gather information in a place this crowded?
As he pondered his next move, his left eye's scanning device quietly activated, pulling up data on the individuals around him. Lines of text scrolled across his vision, names and statuses appearing in real-time.
Moroz Aleksandr Volkov
Eun-jae stiffened. The President of Russia.
His lips barely moved as he muttered under his breath, "Well, I guess this party isn't for the poor."
Before he could process the full weight of the information, a hand suddenly plucked a glass of wine from his tray.
He didn't even need to look to know who it was.
"Well, I was expecting there to be a lot of people," Caesar's smooth voice drawled lazily, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he sipped from his glass.
Eun-jae didn't bother responding, his attention instead shifting to the woman standing next to the Russian president—a striking figure with an air of quiet dominance.
"The lady talking to him is the daughter of the Emperor," Caesar continued, swirling the wine in his glass.
Eun-jae's brows lifted slightly. "Which emperor?"
Caesar smirked. "Emperor Nikolai Petrovich Romanov. And that, my friend, is Seraphina." He took another slow sip before adding, "She also happens to be the mother of Bes."
Eun-jae nearly choked. "Wait. Bes is also related to the royals?"
"Yes," Caesar confirmed, his tone indifferent as if it were common knowledge. "It's believed she has ties with a certain mafia."
Eun-jae's eyes narrowed. "Which mafia?"
"The Sanguine Vory," Caesar said, his lips curling slightly. "One of the deadliest crime syndicates in the world. And guess what? She's not just affiliated with them—she's their leader. In the underground world, she's known as La Regina." He let the name roll off his tongue with a certain reverence before chuckling. "Another ruthless woman, huh? I swear, I think I have a type."
Eun-jae ignored his comment, his mind whirring at this new revelation. So Bes wasn't just anyone—she was blood royalty and controlled a dangerous mafia. That explained a lot.
Before he could ask more, Caesar tilted his chin toward another figure in the room.
"The man talking to the vice president? That's Vseslav Alekseevich Karpov-Troistky. The second son of the Karpov-Troistky family and—more importantly—the closest man to the president. Every public affair in Russia has to go through him before reaching Volkov himself."
Eun-jae's gaze sharpened. That meant this man wasn't just powerful—he was practically the president's shadow.
Caesar's eyes flicked toward another figure just entering the room, an older man with a distinguished presence and a cane that looked more like a statement than a necessity.
"And that guy?" Caesar continued. "That's Dmitriyevich. The big shot of Volkov Energy. If it weren't for him, the Karpov-Troistky family wouldn't be where they are today. He basically controls half of Russia's energy supply. That's enough leverage to make even the government kneel."
Eun-jae hummed. "So even though Russia has a president, people like him are the real power holders."
Caesar gave him a lazy grin. "Bingo."
Eun-jae was silent for a moment, taking it all in. This wasn't just some high-class gathering. This was a web of power, influence, and blood ties. And if Seraphim—whatever it was—was connected to these people, then getting information wasn't just going to be difficult. It was going to be downright dangerous.
Before he could dwell on it further, Caesar suddenly straightened, his smirk widening as his gaze locked onto a new arrival.
"Ah, there he is," he mused, his voice laced with amusement. "The golden prince himself—Yaroslav, the first son of the Karpov-Troistky family."
Eun-jae turned his head, and his breath hitched.
There, walking through the grand hall with the kind of presence that commanded attention, was Yaroslav Karpov-Troistky.
His blue eyes were sharp, calculating, like a predator assessing the room. His tailored black suit fit him perfectly, highlighting his lean yet powerful frame. Unlike the other men in the room, who carried themselves with smugness or arrogance, Yaroslav moved with quiet, deadly confidence. His expression was unreadable, his posture poised but relaxed, like a man who knew he had nothing to prove—because everyone already knew exactly who he was.
The murmurs in the room shifted subtly as guests took notice of his presence. Some greeted him with polite nods, others whispered behind their glasses. Even in a room full of powerful figures, Yaroslav stood out.
Eun-jae felt his pulse quicken slightly. This guy wasn't just important. He was dangerous.
"Alright. Now I'm really curious about this family."
'alright let me continue ...'caesar said as he drinks his wine ...
"So, what about that bastard Bes?" Eun-jae asked, his voice laced with a mix of irritation and curiosity.
The name alone left a bitter taste in his mouth, like he'd just bitten into something rotten. Bes. The man who had nearly ended them both without breaking a sweat. The man who moved like a shadow in the dark—silent, ruthless, and absolutely untouchable.
Caesar, leaning casually against Eun-jae, a half-empty glass of wine in hand, let out a quiet chuckle. The dim, golden glow of the chandelier above them reflected off the liquid as he swirled it lazily in his glass, as if the conversation was nothing more than idle chatter.
"Bes?" Caesar hummed, his lips curling into a smirk. "Oh, he definitely has a job."
Eun-jae's brows knitted together.
"A job? The hell is that supposed to mean?"
He stared at Caesar, waiting for him to elaborate. But the bastard just took his sweet time, tilting his glass slightly before taking a slow, deliberate sip. It was infuriating.
Finally, Caesar exhaled, placing the glass down with an amused glint in his eyes.
"Maybe a government worker," he mused. "A civil servant. Something along those lines."
Silence.
Eun-jae stared.
Then, all at once, a sharp, disbelieving laugh burst from his lips. He almost choked on the sheer absurdity of what he had just heard.
"Wait, hold on—so you're telling me that this bastard—the same one who almost killed you and me—is a fucking civil servant?"
Caesar just grinned, his expression infuriatingly nonchalant.
"Strange, isn't it?" he murmured, amusement dancing in his voice.
Eun-jae's mind struggled to wrap itself around the information.
"Civil servant? Government worker? Is he serious?"
The image of Bes Ilay in a neatly pressed suit, pushing papers behind a desk, dealing with bureaucratic nonsense, was so utterly ridiculous that Eun-jae almost laughed again.
Almost.
Because something deep in his gut told him that Caesar wasn't joking.
"What the hell kind of 'civil servant' walks around with a kill count high enough to make entire crime syndicates tremble?"
His grip tightened around the tray in his hands, knuckles turning white.
Caesar exhaled through his nose, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.
"When it comes to the underground world of Russia—where **laws are nothing more than guidelines and survival depends on how much blood you're willing to spill—everyone knows him."
Eun-jae didn't move, didn't even breathe.
"You know, Bes—which means 'demon'—wasn't just some nickname someone randomly threw at him. It was a title. A crown forged from the screams of the men he's butchered over the years. Because that's what he is."
Caesar's smirk deepened, but it wasn't a warm or friendly thing.
It was cold.
Amused, yes—but cold.
"A demon."
Eun-jae felt a chill creep up his spine.
It wasn't just the word itself—it was the weight behind it. The finality.
"There's an old saying about him," Caesar continued, his voice dropping to something quieter, something almost… reverent.
"If you see Bes once, you're lucky. If you see him twice, you should start praying. If you see him a third time… well, you won't live long enough to tell the story."
Eun-jae swallowed.
Because that saying?
It wasn't just a rumor.
Every corner of the underworld knew the name Bes Ilay.
It was spoken in hushed whispers behind closed doors. It was scrawled onto bloodstained walls, carved into the nightmares of men who had dared to cross him.
It was a name that carried weight.
A name that made even the most hardened criminals hesitate.
Caesar let out another small chuckle, this one quieter—darker. He lifted his glass slightly, letting the deep red wine catch the dim lighting of the grand hall.
"He's like the king of the underworld. No—scratch that."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
"A king can be dethroned."
He took a slow sip before continuing.
"He's something worse."
Eun-jae's grip on the tray tightened.
"Apex predator in a world full of scavengers."
The words sank deep, burrowing into Eun-jae's thoughts like a parasite.
Because deep down, he knew—Caesar was right.
The underworld.
It was a world that existed in the shadows of nations, a world where money, blood, and power were the only things that mattered.
The Russian government? The officials? The politicians?
They were nothing but puppets dancing on strings.
The real rulers?
The Karpov-Troistky family.
And at the center of it all?
Bes.
"They don't just own the underworld."
"They are the underworld."
For decades—hell, for generations—the Karpov-Troistky name had been etched into the very foundation of organized crime.
They didn't just have influence.
They had absolute control.
From the arms trade to the drug networks, from mercenary contracts to underground auctions where men, weapons, and information were bought and sold like groceries at a market—everything could be traced back to them.
Everything.
And at the heart of it all?
Bes.
Eun-jae exhaled sharply.
People didn't just call Bes a demon because of his cruelty. It was because he was an anomaly.
An unpredictable, uncontrollable force of destruction.
A nuclear weapon with a heartbeat.
A ticking time bomb that didn't need permission to go off.
There was no stopping him.
No negotiating.
No buying him off.
When Bes Ilay set his sights on something—on someone—there was only ever one outcome.
Annihilation.
Eun-jae's pulse thundered in his ears as he scanned the grand hall, his eyes darting between the elite figures who ruled the shadows.
This wasn't just another job.
This wasn't just another mission.
This was something bigger.
And if he wasn't careful…
He might not make it out alive.
"Bringing down someone like Bes isn't easy, Eun-jae."
Caesar's voice dropped into a low, velvety tone, thick with something that sent an uneasy prickle down Eun-jae's spine. It wasn't fear exactly, but something eerily close to it—a warning laced in amusement.
"A man born into two powerful families… and you think taking him down is easy, huh?"
He leaned in, his breath warm against the space between them, and let out a quiet, knowing chuckle. The kind that made Eun-jae's skin itch, as if he were being toyed with.
Two powerful families.
Eun-jae didn't need Caesar to spell it out for him.
He already knew.
The Ilay bloodline. The Karpov-Troistky dynasty.
One side steeped in brutal, merciless efficiency, a legacy of killers and masterminds who built empires with blood and fire. The other a family so deeply entangled in Russia's power structure that even the government bent its knee to them.
And Bes?
He was the unholy fusion of the two.
A monster born from the absolute pinnacle of power and destruction.
Eun-jae clenched his jaw.
"Even if someone managed to lay a finger on him, the weight of his family alone would crush them before they could land a second strike."
Bringing him down wasn't just difficult.
It was suicidal.
Caesar tilted his head slightly, watching him with sharp, unreadable eyes.
"But…" He exhaled softly, letting the word hang in the air, like the start of a deadly game.
"If you want to bring Bes down…"
He lifted his glass, swirling the last remnants of deep red wine, the color of blood, before taking a slow, deliberate sip.
"Find his weakness."
His voice dipped into something sly, seductive, almost taunting. A whisper of temptation, as if he were offering Eun-jae a secret wrapped in silk and poison.
"That's when you'll finally be able to pull the strings."
He smirked, his gaze glinting with something dark.
Something that made Eun-jae feel as if he were being led into a trap.
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.