The plan was set in motion before dawn.
Kaito, now acting as a double agent, returned to Hiroshi's territory under the pretense of sharing intelligence about Shun's capture. His face bore no trace of doubt or hesitation—but inside, every step he took felt like treading on a frozen lake ready to crack.
Back at Nam's base, the team worked in silence. The trust they once had in alliances was now laced with suspicion. Lan reviewed every intercepted communication, every supply movement. Nothing could be ignored.
Nam, meanwhile, buried himself in maps and satellite scans. He no longer looked for enemy armies—but for lies hidden in plain sight.
In Hiroshi's camp, Kaito was welcomed with the same cold calculation he remembered.
"You're early," Hiroshi said, sipping tea by his war table. "I assume it went well?"
"We got him," Kaito replied coolly. "Shun's tongue is loose, but not loose enough. He mentioned you."
Hiroshi raised an eyebrow, but his expression didn't flinch. "Of course he did. Taro wants to break us apart."
Kaito leaned forward. "Then help us prove him wrong. We need full access to your northern garrisons—for 'joint operations,' as we agreed."
A long pause.
Then Hiroshi smiled. "Of course."
It was too easy.
At Nam's command center, Lan received a private message through their encrypted network. It was from Kaito.
"He's stalling. No access granted. Claims 'preparation delays.' I don't trust him."
Lan showed the message to Nam, who read it silently, then stared at the map again.
"He's testing us," Nam muttered. "Seeing how desperate we are."
"Or hiding something critical," Lan added.
Nam's gaze sharpened. "Let's give him a reason to act."
Two days later, a phantom convoy—bearing the insignia of Nam's army—moved toward one of Hiroshi's key bases. It wasn't real. Just a well-crafted illusion using holographic decoys and scrambled radio signals.
But it was enough.
Hiroshi's troops reacted immediately, rerouting a significant portion of their defense units to intercept a threat that didn't exist.
Kaito, inside the camp, sent a message:
"Confirmed. He diverted 60% of his elite forces. Now's your window."
That night, Lan led a covert team into a supposedly abandoned facility deep within Hiroshi's territory. What they found inside was worse than they expected.
Files. Plans. Messages.
Not just from Hiroshi—but to Taro.
Blueprints of Nam's strongholds, attack strategies, locations of medical and food supply routes—all being funneled to Taro in exchange for promised territory once Nam was out of the way.
Hiroshi wasn't just playing both sides. He was selling Nam out piece by piece.
The documents were rushed back to Nam, who stood over them in stunned silence.
"It's treason," Lan whispered. "He's been feeding Taro for weeks."
Nam didn't speak for a long time.
Finally, he said coldly, "Then we feed him lies."
Lan looked up.
"We'll play along," Nam continued. "We let Hiroshi believe he's still ahead. But we twist the script. Fake supply routes. False troop placements. Let him give Taro the wrong war."
Lan nodded slowly. "And when they strike the trap—"
"We'll be waiting," Nam finished.