Before you two go on the prowl in the middle of daylight, will you at least take care of the dead carcass in the lavatory? 

It's barely daylight, Lingling. Are you worried we'll get caught?

"What kind of law enforcer would chase after us during morning rush hour? They're all busy passing out warnings to speeding offenders."

Well, there is no such thing as a speeding violation in the Triangulum Galaxy. What do you suppose the law enforcers there do? Put all their efforts in catching artists like yourself, right?

"No clue. We've only been to said galaxy once for those red Dorothy slippers you were dying to get your hands on. We didn't hang around long enough to even get a glimpse of one. Besides, aren't those multi-galaxy agents the real annoying flies buzzing?"

I find them extremely cute... trying to follow the clues we leave. It is, without a doubt, one of the many joys in life... to devise new ways of lead the semi-intellects astray.

Of course. Of course.

Junsu retraces his steps. Even in his own secret lair, he cannot be too cautious. Upon entering the lavatory, he scans the room, making sure everything is there just the way he had left it. The dead body is still dead. Good. Good.

With a firm grip, Junsu drags the bloody thing from lavatory to bedroom... with a little, whirling automaton cleaner, shaped like a disk fish, following close behind. Pass living room. Pass trophy jars. Finally, to arrive at his minimalist bedroom. Once inside, the door shuts behind him, leaving the automaton on the other side, still busy whirling.

At the center of the room, he positions himself... with the dead body sprawled at his feet. "Are the nanos fully recharged?" He asks one of the three hundred and six voices in his head.

Eighty-six percent power, captain. Shall we deploy?

"How much power is required to navigate around the adjacent galaxy?"

Depending on the amount of space debris floating around between initial position and final position, twenty-two to thirty-three percent drainage.

"Then we should be fine." Junsu grants the pilot, Lee Junki, temporary control.

Coordinates 01-33-51, 30-39-36. Set.

Behind him, the temperature regulated bed hisses while sliding into the wall. Simple furniture within the room, like table and chair, melts into the floor and disappears without a trace. All four sides of his bedroom collapse inward towards him and the dead woman. It warps, grows hot, shaping itself into a sleek looking spacecraft. 

Directly beneath him, a lump rises, molding to the shape of his body. Junsu sits into the new comfy seat and relaxes. Usually, another lump would form under his feet. But, since the woman is in the way, he will have to make do with her dead body as a temporary foot rest.

Gradually, the air in the newly formed vehicle cools down, returning to an agreeable temperature.

To shape shift stationary sanctuaries into superior spaceships, it is, by far, one of the most prized technology in his possession. Furthering research in nanotechnology has given him the incredible edge he needs to avoid capture and stay alive. He could not have accomplished such a massive leap in technological advancement without the collaboration  efforts of  Lee Junki, the pilot, and one hundred and seventy-seven other remarkable intellects in his head. Their efficient teamwork is unmatched.

Now... where does he even get the funds for a few hundred trillion machines the size of human cells?

Remember the problematic, married couple, Kim Jaejoong and Wang Xinling? Yeah. They are the solution to all his financial troubles.

Emphasis on... ALL.