The rain had just stopped when Haiyan and his friends stepped onto the crowded roadside.
The evening sky glowed orange beneath heavy clouds, and the streets were filled with the distant sounds of traffic, vendors, and people rushing home before nightfall. For the first time in weeks, things felt almost peaceful.
Haiyan walked beside his friends quietly, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. His mind was still occupied with thoughts about the merchant—the lies, the military parade, and the friends he had lost.
Then suddenly—
A loud screech echoed across the road.
Headlights flashed violently.
A black SUV lost control and slammed into a concrete divider before spinning sideways across the street.
The impact shook the entire area.
People screamed.
Glass shattered everywhere.
For a moment, the world stood still.
Haiyan and his friends immediately ran toward the wrecked vehicle.
The front of the SUV was completely destroyed. Smoke rose from the engine while the alarm screamed continuously into the evening air.
Inside the vehicle were three unconscious passengers.
A middle-aged woman.
A teenage boy.
And—
Haiyan froze.
The merchant.
Blood ran down the side of the merchant's forehead as he remained unconscious in the driver's seat.
But that wasn't what shocked Haiyan the most.
It was the boy sitting beside him.
The teenager looked almost exactly like Haiyan.
Same hairstyle.
Same face structure.
Even their height looked nearly identical.
For a few seconds, Haiyan could barely believe what he was seeing.
Then an idea entered his mind.
A dangerous idea.
Haiyan quickly turned toward his friends.
"Take the boy," he whispered urgently.
His friends looked confused.
"What?"
"Trust me," Haiyan said. "He's not our enemy."
Without wasting another second, his friends carefully carried the unconscious teenager away from the crash site toward their hidden safe house.
Meanwhile, Haiyan took the boy's place inside the damaged vehicle.
The sound of distant sirens grew louder.
Everything happened fast after that.
By the time the merchant regained consciousness, confusion had already taken over the scene.
Smoke surrounded the road.
Emergency lights flashed across the wet pavement.
And when the merchant looked beside him—
he saw Haiyan.
But he didn't recognize him.
Instead, he believed Haiyan was his nephew.
The plan had worked.
Later that night, Haiyan arrived at the merchant's mansion.
The building was enormous, illuminated by white security lights and surrounded by cameras. Guards stood near every entrance, but none of them questioned Haiyan.
Because to them—
he was someone else.
Inside the mansion, Haiyan slowly began learning the truth.
The woman from the car was not the merchant's wife.
She was actually the wife of the merchant's brother—the mother of the real boy Haiyan had replaced.
Which meant the boy was the merchant's nephew.
And now…
the merchant believed Haiyan was him.
At first, Haiyan expected constant suspicion.
But surprisingly, the merchant treated him naturally.
Sometimes he even acted kind.
That only made Haiyan more uncomfortable.
Because behind that calm face, Haiyan knew there was still a monster hiding in the shadows.
Days passed.
Haiyan carefully continued his act, pretending to be the merchant's nephew while secretly observing everything around him.
He listened to conversations.
Watched the guards.
Memorized the layout of the mansion.
And most importantly—
he studied the merchant himself.
One evening, the merchant casually handed Haiyan his smartphone.
"Here," he said. "Use it if you're bored."
The moment surprised Haiyan.
But he stayed calm.
In Bangladesh, relatives often shared their phones casually with younger family members. To the merchant, this felt completely normal.
To Haiyan—
it was an opportunity.
While pretending to browse games and videos, Haiyan secretly explored the merchant's messages.
That was when he noticed something familiar.
A contact.
The mysterious girl from the safe house.
The same girl who had been secretly communicating with the merchant online.
And according to their conversations…
the merchant trusted her deeply.
Their chats were frequent.
Personal.
Almost emotional.
Haiyan immediately realized the situation had become far more dangerous than expected.
The girl wasn't just spying anymore.
She was getting close to the merchant himself.
Very close.
But Haiyan's biggest discovery came a few nights later.
The mansion was unusually quiet that evening.
Rain tapped softly against the windows while security guards patrolled the outer halls. Haiyan quietly slipped through the corridor toward the merchant's private office.
The door was slightly open.
Haiyan stepped inside carefully.
The room was darker than expected.
A large computer setup glowed faintly in the corner beside several monitors displaying security camera feeds from different locations.
On the desk were files, documents, and locked drawers.
Haiyan slowly searched through them one by one.
Most contained financial papers and coded information he didn't fully understand.
But then—
he found something important.
A passport.
Beside it—
an official identification card.
Haiyan picked them up carefully.
The moment he read the name written there, his heartbeat stopped.
Iqbal Rahman.
Not "The Merchant."
Not the public identity everyone knew.
His real name was Iqbal.
Haiyan quickly memorized every detail before placing the documents back exactly where he found them.
Later that night, inside his room, Haiyan secretly searched the name online.
At first, only a few ordinary results appeared.
But after digging deeper through archived reports, hidden forums, and old records…
he discovered something terrifying.
Photos.
Old investigations.
Disappeared officials.
Illegal technology projects.
And finally—
one classified article that made Haiyan's blood run cold.
His eyes widened as he stared at the screen.
"No way…" he whispered.
Everything suddenly connected together.
The merchant's project.
The military connections.
The hidden facilities.
The fake identities.
It had all been part of something much bigger than Haiyan ever imagined.
Something that reached far beyond a single city.
Far beyond a single country.
And as the rain continued outside the mansion windows—
Haiyan realized that uncovering the merchant's true identity might have just placed him in even greater danger than before.