THE SOUND OF RAIN IN HANNAM-DONG.
The rain over Seoul did not merely fall; it hammered the armored glass of the Hannam-dong estate like a prosecuting attorney.
Kang Seo-jin waited calmly atop the slate-tiled roof, her gloved hands exploring the third floor's skylight. She was hidden within the charcoal gray shadows. Her hands were covered in matte tactical gloves as she tested how the skylight worked. It slid open silently and smoothly.
She glanced at the time on her wrist before slipping into the mansion. The display read 02:42 hours.
The King's personal guards rotated every hour and forty minutes, exactly, leaving a three-minute window when no security detail would be in the eastern passage, her contact had informed her.
Seo-jin slipped through the open skylight into the mansion and landed without a sound on the imported walnut parquet of the royal study. The air carried the scent of fresh cedarwood, costly whiskey, and aged paper. The portraits of former kings and queens watched over her from their carved ebony frames, with their beards and heavy silk robes. Seo-jin drew her suppressed Walther PPK and gave herself a nod. Her mission was straightforward: kill King Yi-geon, retrieve the bearer bonds from the Swiss deposit, and escape with the silver pendant.
"You are tracking mud on my mother's Persian rug," said the low voice from the edge, and Seo-jin spun sharply, aiming the gun at the figure emerging from the shadows near the large fireplace.
King Yi-geon stood before her, wearing a white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled to the elbows. He wore no royal robes, and there was no fear in his sharp dark eyes as he studied Seo-jin. He appeared tired, yet, more importantly, he appeared deadly.
"Your Majesty," Seo-jin said, her voice steady, keeping the gun aimed at him. "I suggest you return to your chamber."
Yi-geon tilted his head, studying her dark tactical gear, noting the burn on her cheek and the practiced competence in her stance. "An assassin," Yi-geon remarked, sounding almost cheerful. "Well, the syndicates in Busan typically send suits that look cheap. I think the capital takes better care of its assets these days."
"Please, stand against the wall, Your Majesty," Seo-jin urged, her heart racing as she observed Yi-geon stepping slowly forward rather than retreating, which was what she had anticipated. He approached to within a few inches of where she stood, his gaze fixed intently on hers. "If I wanted you dead, Miss Kang," Yi-geon said, his voice lowering by an octave, and she detected the odd metallic resonance that differed from before, "you would have caught the scent of poison in the cedarwood."
Seo-jin's finger jerked against the trigger.
How was he aware of her name?
"You shouldn't be here," Seo-jin said, as a fierce tremor passed through Yi-geon. His knees gave way, and he dropped onto them, gasping and clutching his head as though something were attempting to tear its way out of his skull. His refined posture, the assured smirk, and the composure had all vanished, replaced by the look of a wild beast with intelligence blazing behind its slit pupils.
The shadow sneezed, wiped the sweat from his brow, and stared at Seo-jin, his lips quivering with a kind of satisfaction.
"Drop the gun, little ghost." The shadow hissed, "we have more interesting matters to discuss than your assassination."
