Chapter 224

The mansion was swallowed in a blurred darkness. Rain had fallen without pause all day, leaving the solar-charged outdoor lights faint to the point of uselessness. Except for the semi-circular hall that jutted out from the center of the second floor, every light in the house was extinguished.

Just as the satellite maps had shown in advance, the spot where Siron and Baekgyeong pushed through the wooden fence held a massive conifer shaped like a Christmas tree. And in front of it, Isaac was waiting for them.

“Two guards are stationed in the second-floor hall, so the hall has been excluded from the operation. All the wiretaps are installed at the designated points. Total confirmed guards: six. Four inside, one at the front, one at the back. Move on my signal. Target is the garage.”

At Isaac’s report and order, a jolt of tension surged through Siron. It was like something out of a spy film; adrenaline pumped so hard his breath caught. Forcing himself to take a short, steadying breath, Siron nodded firmly at him. The garage was barely ten meters away from where they stood. Isaac was about to raise his hand to signal when, suddenly, the garage lights flared on. At the same time came a mechanical hum as the folding door began rising slowly.

Blinding headlights spilled out into the dark, splitting it apart. The three of them hurriedly crouched behind the tree. The car rolled smoothly out of the garage, eased onto the circular drive surrounding the mansion, and drove off. It was the governor’s commuting sedan—the one they had been planning to hack.

The unexpected turn left not only Siron and Baekgyeong, but even Isaac momentarily stunned.

“Fuck, are we screwed before we even started?”

Baekgyeong clawed at the rain-soaked mask on his face and hissed under his breath. Siron whispered back, his voice thick with worry.

“What do we do?”

“Please wait a moment.”

Isaac slipped left, using the flowerbed’s shrubs as cover. When he returned, he spoke calmly.

“There’s another car in the garage. The Police Commissioner’s.”

“Then bug that one. No time to hesitate.”

It was already past two in the morning. The meeting between the governor and the Commissioner had dragged late into the night, but they were still men with fixed office hours. Even if they broke up right this second, it wouldn’t be strange. And the rain had started to ease.

Isaac motioned for them to move. Siron and Baekgyeong dashed toward the garage, swept up in his command.

The car hack was a two-man relay job. Team A intercepted and amplified the high-frequency signal of the smart key, while Team B, near the vehicle, caught the boosted signal and relayed it to the car. In other words, it was a way to extend the key’s signal across distance.

Isaac took the role of A, intercepting the key’s signal. Siron and Baekgyeong, with the gear, played B, re-transmitting to the vehicle. They recalled Isaac’s instructions step by step, connecting laptop and transmitter with a cable, setting up the kit.

Time ground by in suffocating tension until, twenty minutes later, Siron’s phone rang. He snatched it up quickly, lowering his voice.

“We’re ready.”

—Enter. Key ID is 4A-7D-12-71-1F-C9-D1-W...

“Ah! W-wait, slow down. Say it slower.”

Siron pleaded frantically. On the other end there was silence for a moment—then a low chuckle.

—Very well. I’ll say it slowly.

Even with nausea roiling from nerves, the sound made Siron’s ears prickle, a heat crawling up his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, bit down on his lip, and carefully typed the sequence exactly as directed. Beside him, Baekgyeong had the receiver prepped, turning its antenna toward the car before pressing the power switch.

On the black laptop screen, white code poured endlessly, line after line scrolling down. Then, all at once, the screen froze. Siron swallowed dryly, hands shaking as he entered the command.

The receiver buzzed faintly. A second later, the Cadillac’s side mirrors popped out with a mechanical snap, the lock disengaging as the auxiliary lights blinked to life. Siron pressed a hand to his forehead, dizzy with relief, and whispered,

“Haah... the door’s open.”

—Well done.

Stuffing the laptop and receiver into their bags in a rush, Siron slid into the passenger seat while Baekgyeong climbed into the back.

“No dashcam in this vehicle.”

—Good. I’ll rendezvous shortly.

They ended the call and waited for Isaac to arrive.

“Easier than I thought,” Baekgyeong muttered.

But his words had barely left his lips before a foreboding noise reached them—the sound of a car pulling onto the circular drive. Siron’s head whipped around, panic plain on his face.

“Wh-what now?”

“Lock the doors and get down, now!”

“Wh—oh, right!”

Siron fumbled to lock the doors and hunched down as small as he could.

Moments later, another car rolled into the garage: the governor’s S-Class sedan, the same one that had just driven out. It reversed in cleanly and stopped beside the Cadillac—less than a meter away.

Two men got out.

“Ted, grab your gloves.”

“Oh, right. Almost forgot again. Ha ha.”

They sounded young, their voices carrying from a height. The one called Ted laughed boisterously, yanked something from the car, and slammed the door.

“Phew, nearly messed up again. Damn it!”

He smacked his own cheek hard, sighed repeatedly, then brightened with forced cheer.

“Next time I won’t screw it up. You know me—I can do anything when I put my mind to it.”

The voice was too lively, absurdly so for the storm-damp dawn. Raspy, grating, as if his vocal cords were torn.

The Commissioner’s car had tinted glass, heavy enough to obscure but not fully block the view inside. Terrified of being spotted, Siron didn’t so much as twitch a finger. From the backseat came Baekgyeong’s quick, hushed whisper.

“Keep your pheromones sealed. Those bastards are alphas.”

Siron flinched. Two alphas at the governor’s residence—it reeked of trouble. And Ted’s voice, disturbingly familiar, set every nerve on edge. He had no time to dwell. Forcing himself to imagine every pore locked tight, he held his breath as quietly as possible.

Fortunately, the two didn’t linger. They crossed through the door linking garage to mansion. Minutes passed. Then—knocks at the passenger window.

“Open up. It’s Isaac.”

At Baekgyeong’s nod, Siron unlocked the door at once.

“The governor’s car came back. Do we plant it?”

Isaac shook his head.

“Guard shift just arrived. Patrol’s coming. No time. Hurry.”

He reached beneath the steering wheel, pulled down a bundle of wires, and neatly spliced them into the bug. Power line, mic line, GPS. With a press of a button, the device went live. From now on, whenever the car started, the recordings would auto-upload through the comms net, and the vehicle’s location would ping in real time. With luck, they might catch the Police Commissioner speaking on Gezar Bazelli’s execution.

“Done. Let’s get out.”

“Wait.”

From the back, Baekgyeong turned, reaching into the trunk wall and feeling around.

“What are you doing?”

Siron pressed, on edge.

“The cigarette lighter. Got it.”

Before either could stop him, Baekgyeong yanked the plug free and shoved it into his pocket. He opened the door and slipped out. Siron and Isaac followed, retracing their path. Outside the wooden fence, they reset the CCTV loop and walked the winding road out of the Sun Haven residential district. By the time they reached the isolated cliffside lodge, dawn had broken.

With the storm blown past and the sky clear over the ocean, a crisp blue horizon opened before them. At the sight, Siron finally let down his guard; exhaustion crushed him. After forcing himself through a shower, he stumbled back into the room to find Isaac sprawled on the sofa and Baekgyeong on the bed.

Siron glared at them through sleep-heavy eyes, frowning.

“What are you two doing here?”

“As you can see—working.”

Isaac didn’t even look up from his laptop.

“I mean why here.”

“Because I’m sick of watching you and Baekgyeong fuck.”

“We—we’re not fucking!”

Isaac lifted his eyes, full of skepticism. Last night, it had been nothing more than a little fooling around in the bathroom, but he had clearly noticed. His icepick stare cut straight through him, and Siron hastily changed the subject.

“Wh-why are you even here?”

“My place is always beside you. You like sleeping with your hands on me.”

Baekgyeong deliberately drawled, sticky-sweet, before grabbing him and shoving him down into the center of the bed.

“Cut it out. I want to sleep alone.”

“Did you already forget nearly getting kidnapped in Texas? You won’t be sleeping alone again.”