11:45 PM. Pasay Port District.
Jae-Min killed the GT-R's headlights a block away. The street was dead. Broken streetlights. Abandoned warehouses. The smell of salt and rust hung in the humid air.
Uncle Rico sat in the passenger seat. A Glock 19 resting on his thigh. Safety off.
"Victor's late," Rico muttered.
"He'll be here."
"You trust him?"
"I trust his greed."
Rico almost smiled. "Smart kid."
Jae-Min scanned the street. Left. Right. Rearview mirror.
No movement. No black sedans. No Kiara.
But the blue radar grid from two days ago had pulsed once in his apartment this morning. Faint. Quick. Like a heartbeat. Someone was still keeping tabs on him. He just didn't know who.
12:00 AM.
Headlights. A black panel van turned the corner. No plates. Tinted windows. It rolled to a stop in front of the warehouse's back entrance.
Victor stepped out. Behind him, two men. Both big. Both armed. They pulled open the van's rear doors.
"Showtime," Rico said.
They stepped out of the GT-R. Jae-Min popped the trunk. Empty. Waiting.
Victor approached. Handshake. Firm.
"You're early," Victor said.
"You're late."
"Traffic." Victor grinned. No humor in it. "Standard gear first. Custom rifle needs three more days."
"How much?"
Victor waved to his men. They started unloading. Black hard cases. Heavy. Stacked on the pavement.
"Four Glocks. Twelve magazines. Two Benelli M4s. Two Remington 700s. Six Level IV plate carriers. Night vision. Radios. Knives. Tomahawks. Ammunition." Victor pulled a clipboard from his jacket. "Sign here."
Jae-Min scanned the list. Everything matched. He signed.
"Total weight?"
"Four hundred kilos. Plus ammo."
Jae-Min looked at the pile of cases. Then at his hands.
Four hundred kilos. In his first life, he could barely carry a twenty-kilo bag of rice up the stairs. Now?
"Help me load these into the trunk," Jae-Min said.
Victor frowned. "Kid, that's not going to fit in—"
Jae-Min picked up the first case. Fifty kilos. Felt like a pillow. He walked to the GT-R. Opened the trunk. Placed his hand on the case.
It vanished.
Victor blinked.
"What the—"
Jae-Min picked up the next case. Vanished. Then the next. And the next.
He moved through the pile like a machine. One touch. One vanish. The black ripple swallowed each case silently.
Uncle Rico leaned against the GT-R. Arms crossed. Watching Victor's face.
Victor's mouth was open. His two men had stopped moving. Hands hovering over their weapons.
"What... what is this?" Victor's voice cracked.
"Storage," Jae-Min said. "Efficient storage."
"But... where did it go?"
"Somewhere safe."
Jae-Min kept moving. Case after case. Magazine box after magazine box. The void inside him drank it all. The walls pushed back. Expanded. One hundred cubic meters. One hundred twenty.
The last case vanished.
Four hundred kilos of military hardware. Stored in a pocket dimension inside a man who weighed seventy kilos.
Victor stared at the empty pavement. Then at Jae-Min.
"What the hell are you?"
"The guy paying you."
Victor swallowed. His hand drifted toward his holster. Instinct. Fear.
Uncle Rico cleared his throat. "Victor."
Victor froze.
"My nephew just stored four hundred kilos of weapons into thin air. If he wanted you dead, you wouldn't see it coming." Rico's voice was calm. Dead. "So I suggest you lower your hand. Slowly."
Victor looked at Rico. Then at Jae-Min. Then back at Rico.
His hand dropped.
"Jesus Christ." Victor ran a hand over his shaved head. "Rico, what the hell did you drag me into?"
"A war."
"I can see that."
"The custom rifle," Jae-Min said. "Three days?"
Victor nodded. Stiff. Mechanical.
"Three days. Same location. Midnight."
"And the ammunition I requested?"
"The ten thousand rounds? I had to pull from three different suppliers. Cost me extra. Fifty thousand."
Jae-Min pulled an envelope from his jacket. Tossed it to Victor.
"Fifty thousand. Plus a bonus for your silence."
Victor caught it. Thumbed through it.
"Kid, you're buying a lot of silence lately."
"Is it working?"
Victor looked at the money. Then at the empty pavement.
"Yeah. It's working."
Victor's men climbed back into the van. Victor followed. Paused at the driver's door.
"Rico."
"Yeah?"
"If this war you're talking about ever needs more soldiers..." Victor glanced at Jae-Min. "Call me. I know people."
The van drove off. Disappeared into the dark.
Rico pushed off the GT-R. "You didn't have to show him."
"He was going to find out anyway."
"He could panic. Go to the police."
"And tell them what? That a logistics manager can store guns in a magic hole?" Jae-Min opened the GT-R's door. "No one would believe him."
Rico grunted. Got in.
Jae-Min started the engine. Pulled out of the alley.
"You're playing dangerous games, Jae-Min."
"I'm not playing."
1:30 AM. Shore Residence 3. Basement Parking.
Jae-Min parked the GT-R in its spot. Beside it, the yellow Z Nismo. On the other side, the white Golf GTI.
Three cars. Three women. Two he needed to protect. One he needed to kill.
He stepped out of the GT-R. Pressed the fob. The doors locked.
The basement was quiet. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. The smell of gasoline and concrete.
Jae-Min walked toward the elevator.
Then he stopped.
Something was wrong.
The elevator panel was lit. Someone had used it recently. But the basement was empty. No cars moving. No footsteps.
Jae-Min looked at the indicator. The elevator was on the fourteenth floor. Moving down.
Twelve.
Ten.
Eight.
Coming to the basement.
Jae-Min stepped back. Pressed himself against the concrete pillar. Hand drifting toward his waistband. The Glock he had pulled from storage before parking.
Six.
Four.
Two.
The elevator dinged.
Doors slid open.
A woman stepped out.
Long black hair. Designer clothes. High heels clicking against the concrete.
Kiara Valdez.
She didn't see him. She was looking at her phone. Typing. Smiling.
Then she looked up.
Her eyes locked onto Jae-Min.
"Jae-Min!"
She sounded surprised. Happy. Fake.
"What are you doing down here this late?" She tilted her head. That predatory smile. "Waiting for someone?"
Jae-Min didn't answer. His hand rested on the Glock under his jacket.
"I saw your car." Kiara took a step closer. "You've been out all night. Where did you go?"
"None of your business."
"There you go again. Being so cold." Another step. "We used to tell each other everything."
"We used to be a lot of things."
Kiara stopped. Her smile faltered. Just for a second.
"You know, I've been asking around about you. The banks. The loans. The restaurant." Her voice dropped. Sweet. Poisonous. "People are talking, Jae-Min. Sixteen million in one day? That's not normal."
"Maybe I got a promotion."
"Maybe you're hiding something."
Jae-Min met her eyes. Cold. Flat.
"Kiara. Go home."
"Not until you tell me what's going on."
"Nothing is going on."
"Liar." Her voice hardened. The sweet mask cracked. "I know you're up to something. And I'm going to find out what it is."
She turned. Walked toward the elevator. Stopped.
"Oh, and Jae-Min?" She looked back over her shoulder. "Jennifer is very good at finding things. You should be careful what you leave lying around."
She stepped into the elevator. Doors closed.
Jae-Min stood in the empty basement. His hand still on the Glock.
She was getting closer.
And Jennifer was getting better.
He pulled out his phone. Opened his notes.
KIARA: KNOWS ABOUT LOANS. KNOWS ABOUT RESTAURANT. WATCHING MY CAR.
He stared at the screen.
KILL KIARA: LATER.
Not yet. Not until the apocalypse. When the world froze, Kiara would become a liability. A threat. She would try to take what he had built.
But right now, she was just a nuisance.
He walked to the elevator. Pressed the button.
Waited.
The indicator lit up. The elevator was moving. Coming back down.
Jae-Min frowned.
He had just watched Kiara go up. The elevator should be on the fourteenth floor.
But it was coming back down.
To the basement.
The doors dinged.
Empty.
No one inside.
But on the floor of the elevator, a small black device blinked with a faint red light.
A listening bug.
Jae-Min stared at it.
Someone had planted it before Kiara arrived. Before he arrived.
Someone else was listening.
He picked it up. Crushed it in his palm. Dropped the pieces on the floor.
The blue radar grid. The ouroboros crates. And now this.
He wasn't the only one preparing for the end.