Yuan stopped after a few steps.
Sylas' car had already disappeared from his view. The hum of the engine was swallowed by the snow, and the city returned to its own dull murmur. Instinctively, he reached into his pocket. To follow… now.
But
He froze.
His fingers hovered, motionless.
"No."
His brows furrowed slowly. His eyes narrowed. He regulated his breathing.
"That was a mistake."
The moment replayed in his mind the brief eye contact, the hesitation. Sylas' gaze.
"He noticed me."
Yuan pressed his tongue against his teeth.
"If I rush… it'll only get worse."
Despite the cold, a faint warmth tingled on his forehead. Not panic. Self anger.
"An assassin must remain invisible."
"Today… I revealed myself."
He didn't stop to follow.
This was not retreat.
This was survival.
Just as he started walking again, his phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
Unknown Number.
"Tch…"
He tilted his head back slightly, then answered.
"What happened?" he said, his voice cold.
"Updates?"
The voice on the other side was sharp. Impatient.
"We're expecting intel from the center. After getting this close to the target, nothing concrete yet?"
Yuan closed his eyes.
"The center's security is more intense than you anticipated," he said, weaving the lie with flawless calm.
"Everywhere is monitored. I need time."
A short silence.
Then the voice escalated.
"Time?"
"Are you stalling us?"
"Do you think we called you for such a simple target?"
Yuan's eyes darkened.
"Don't teach me my job," he said ice-cold.
"If I fail… you'll suffer too."
Silence.
Yuan hung up.
He stuffed the phone into his pocket and started walking. The snow had thickened. The streets were long. Silent.
Two hours later
The hotel.
He reached his room and locked the door. He pulled the curtains sharply. The city lights vanished. Darkness swallowed the room.
Yuan leaned his back against the door.
He took a deep breath.
Then his hands ran through his hair.
"Damn it…" he muttered.
He sat on the edge of the bed, head down.
"I need a new plan."
He stood up. Took a few steps. Tried to organize his thoughts.
"This man…"
He approached the window.
"He won't die as long as he's secure."
His eyes hardened.
"Too protected."
"And I can't catch him alone."
He paused.
Then reached into his pocket.
A photograph.
Sylas Voskresensky.
Platinum hair. Cold gaze. Arrogant posture.
Yuan stared at the photo, for longer than necessary.
Pointlessly.
His heart beat faster, involuntarily. He forced it down.
"Tch."
He held the photo closer.
"If I kill him too soon…"
His brows slowly relaxed.
"…it would be a clear assassination."
He put the photo on the desk.
"There would be investigation."
"Suspicion."
"I'd leave traces."
Silence.
Then Yuan's lips curved slightly.
"But if his death…"
He tilted his head lightly.
"…appears accidental?"
Cold light flickered in his eyes.
"No one would investigate."
"No one would blame anyone."
He folded the photo and put it back in his pocket.
Yuan straightened.
Breathing calm.
"Exactly…" he muttered.
"Sylas Voskresensky."
"I won't kill you."
"I will…"
His eyes gleamed in the darkness.
"…make your death look like an accident."