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I step forward, putting my body between him and Monroe. Fists clenched at my sides, the blood in my veins boils. “Everything I said to your uncle applies to you, Seung-min. You’re a coward. You strike in the dark. Make secret deals. You can’t stand in the light and own what you’ve done. You’re not a man who stands by your actions.”

Seung-min slaps his thigh like I’ve told the most hilarious joke he’s ever heard. “Jin-tae, you’ve always been unironically funny. Did you know that? Every insult you throw at me? You might as well look in the mirror. You lied to the Baekho-je, didn’t you? You kept the girl a secret. You told my uncle for weeks that she was dead. But you were too cowardly to do it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I growl.

“I know perfectly. You couldn’t do it. You were too—as the Americans say—pussy-whipped.” His smile stretches wider, a filthier quality about how his lips twist, and his gaze finally lands on Monroe. “You know the truth, Jin-tae. You got played by some cheap foreign girl who cries on command and let you play the hero. You’re not the Silent Hunter anymore. You’re just a pathetic man on a leash.”

A pulse of anger beats through me. I push it down, grinding my jaw. “You mistake me for you, Seung-min. We’re not all asemotional and sensitive as you are. Your words do nothing to me.”

“They should. You failed to follow simple orders and eliminate her. And when I stepped up to do what you couldn’t, you felt threatened. So you tried to humiliate me. Face it, Jin-tae, this was about your ego as much as it’s about mine.”

“I did humiliate you,” I admit. “Your deformed face is proof. Tell me, Seung-min, how do you like looking in the mirror now?”

He shrugs. “Power doesn’t need to be pretty. When I take my uncle’s mantle, it’ll all fall into place. Everyone will be under my command. I’ll have everything my uncle had.”

I’m the one who laughs at him, the sound sharp and mocking. “You think you’ll be the next Baekho-je? Your uncle was a drunk and a fool, but in his day, he was still a force to be reckoned with. You? You’re a little boy playing dress-up.”

“Insult me some more, Jin-tae!” he snarls, raising his gun again. This time he points it at Monroe. “There’s a price to be paid for having such a slick mouth!”

“You need a gun to win, don’t you?” I ask, blocking Monroe entirely. “Just like last time. Just like the Gyeol-sa when you pulled that blade. But you still lost because you’re weak, Seung-min.”

His crooked jaw tics. He stares at me as if digesting my words, his teeth grinding. Then slowly—almost theatrically—he ejects the magazine and drops the handgun, letting both clatter to the ground.

“The only reason you won that night is because luck was on your side,” he hisses. “Tonight will be different. I’ll prove the Silent Hunter isn’t so invincible.”

“Then fight me,” I challenge boldly. “If you want the throne, prove you deserve it.Earnit.”

He rips off his shirt and casts it aside. I promptly do the same, thrusting away my leather jacket then pulling my shirt over my head.

We’re standing shirtless in the dim light of the office, the wet, metallic stench of Jae-hyun’s blood ripe in the air. Monroe shifts toward me, but I cut her off with a warning look.

“Stay out of it, Tokki-ya,” I snap. “No matter what happens.”

Seung-min grins, revealing the same mouth of crooked, crowded teeth as his uncle. “Still need your little foreign girlfriend to fight your battles?”

“Your taunts fall on deaf ears, Seung-min. I’m not emotional like you. You won’t get in my head like I get in yours,” I answer, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck. “I’ll be generous tonight. First hit’s free.”

We step toward each other and start circling like predators sizing each other up. But this time, only one of us emerges from this alive.

The room is otherwise silent. Monroe stands off to the side, eyes wide with fear as she worries her bottom lip. She looks like she’s on the verge of passing out any second.

Seung-min and I circle each other a few more times, bare-chested and bloodthirsty. He lunges first, barreling toward me with fists raised. I dodge left as his punch narrowly misses my jaw, then counter with a swift jab to his ribs. He escapes unscathed, twisting away before I can land the hit.

“You’re slower than I remember, Jin-tae,” he sneers.

We both attack at the same time, leaping at each other. Seung-min’s knee comes up fast and slams into my gut. Air vacates my lungs in a choked grunt. I stumble back, doubling over. He follows up with a right hook that I block in time.

But the force of it is jarring—Seung-min is fighting with a ferociousness he hadn’t the last time we dueled in the chamber.

He’s revealing the hunger that I’ve always seen in him. His deep desire for not just victory but glory.

We trade more blows. I drive a strike to his ribs that’s solid and makes him groan. His ribs are likely still tender from the Gyeol-sa. He’s now on the defensive, fending off my attack as I throw out two jabs and a hook to his already broken nose.

His head snaps to the side. Blood spurts from his nostrils and saliva flies from his mouth. He staggers like he’s about to crash to the ground, then recovers in the worst way possible—he cheats.

Wrapping his grip around one of the many soju bottles in his uncle’s office, he shatters it against the edge of his desk. He charges toward me with the jagged end of the bottle. I’m quick enough that I anticipate the stabbing motions to come.

As he jukes it toward me, I leap out of the way, pushing off the desk with my leg outstretched for a side kick. It’s an impressive move that sends Seung-min flopping down to his ass. The half broken bottle smashes against the floor in hundreds of tiny, crushed pieces.