All Chapters of My Model (BL): Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

The streets of Prague felt heavier than any battlefield they had crossed before. Not because of the cobbled stones beneath their boots or the twisting alleys that seemed designed to trap them, but because of the shadows pressing down on all sides. The city, ancient and beautiful, seemed to hold its breath. Every statue’s gaze felt alive, every echo too sharp. Naelle tightened her coat around her as the chill cut deeper. She glanced at Sang-woo, who walked ahead with Soo-ah’s hand in his, his posture as rigid as steel despite the wound still healing in his side. Devin trailed behind, his eyes constantly darting from rooftop to rooftop, the paranoia of a man who had seen too many ambushes. And Yuri… Yuri kept silent, her sharp profile angled away from the group, though Naelle could sense her inner conflict. At the heart of their silence was Lazarus. The man they had come to stop. The man who held Yoon-min. The man who pulled the strings of the syndicate like a puppeteer playing wit

The silence that lingered after the explosion in the Istanbul harbor felt heavier than the smoke itself. Broken stone and twisted metal jutted from the ground like the bones of some slain beast, and the tang of saltwater mixed with blood hung thick in the air.Soo-ah pressed his sleeve against his mouth, coughing as he tried to see through the haze. His ears still rang, the world muffled and disorienting. Somewhere behind him, Yoon-min was groaning as he stirred, while Naelle dragged him toward the safer side of a collapsed wall.But Sang-woo—Soo-ah’s heart clenched. He scanned desperately until his eyes landed on him: Sang-woo stood at the edge of the crater, his shoulders squared though his shirt was torn and blood seeped from a gash across his arm. His amber eyes burned with focus, locked on the black-cloaked figure that emerged through the smoke.Lazarus.The man’s presence felt like a storm given flesh—calm on the surface, yet thrumming with menace beneath. His cloak was untouch

The city of Florence had long since fallen silent under the cloak of midnight. Moonlight spilled like liquid silver across the red-tiled rooftops, illuminating the narrow alleys with a haunting glow. The bells of Santa Maria Novella tolled in the distance—slow, steady, as though marking not just time, but the weight of fate itself.Inside the cathedral’s basilica, the air was thick with incense and the lingering hush of ancient prayers. But tonight, it was no place of worship. Tonight, it was a battleground.Caelan stood at the entrance, his broad shoulders tense beneath the flowing shadow of his cloak. His sword rested in his grip, but his mind was elsewhere—torn between strategy and fear. Not fear for himself, but for Elion.The mage was across the nave, kneeling at the altar where candle flames flickered uneasily, disturbed by something unseen. Elion’s fingers brushed the marble, his lips moving in quiet incantations. A faint blue glow circled his hands, weaving protective wards in

The wind that swept through Istanbul’s ancient streets carried with it the scent of the Bosphorus—salt, smoke, and something sharper, like steel just pulled from the forge. The night hung heavy, broken only by the low rumble of the city and the scattered lights glowing from the distant harbor.Inside the abandoned Ottoman fortress-turned-hideout, silence reigned, pierced only by the creaking of old stone. Sang-woo shifted against the cold wall, his bandaged shoulder pressing into the rough surface. He hated the vulnerability. Every shallow breath reminded him of the wound he had taken in Guadalajara, yet he refused to show weakness. Not now. Not when everything felt like it was coming apart.Yuri sat across from him, her pale hair tied back messily, her dagger lying unsheathed on her thigh. Her sharp eyes flicked between Sang-woo and the flickering lantern, as though calculating every unspoken thought in the room. Devin leaned in the shadows near the window, arms crossed, while Naelle

The rain had finally stopped by the time dawn broke over Istanbul. The first rays of sunlight pierced through the heavy clouds, scattering across the rooftops and damp cobblestone streets. The city seemed deceptively calm, as if the chaos of the night before hadn’t happened at all. But beneath that fragile calm, everyone in the team knew a storm was still waiting to explode.Soo-ah sat on the balcony of their rented safehouse, staring at the horizon. His clothes were damp, his hair messy from the long night, but his expression was unreadable. He had hardly slept. The weight of what happened in Guadalajara, and now Istanbul, pressed heavily on his shoulders.Sang-woo came out silently, his footsteps light despite his injured leg. The bandages peeked out from under his pants, and though the pain was etched in his features, his usual stoicism remained. He set two steaming cups of tea down on the small table and sank into the chair opposite Soo-ah.“You’ll catch a cold if you keep sitting