The state had replaced the girl's artificial tears with a formula that gradually damaged her eyes. The Owl was becoming unhappy according to plan—exactly as they had designed.
She was slowly eliminating the hope that Kim Hyeon could appear as a savior in her life.
Everything was being prepared.
The mission proceeded smoothly, and time passed like lightning.
---
## — The Mission —
After getting married, her food portions initially increased. Then her sleep deepened.
Even the chopsticks she held haphazardly began to align with his grip, corrected by his gentle guidance.
Her habit of sleeping on the floor changed. Now she curled against his warmth.
She had always hated wasting time—but without realizing it, she began to soak in the bathtub with him, talking about nothing and everything.
One day, while folding clothes, a deep sense of doubt made her want to run out of the house as quickly as possible.
But then she heard his voice—gentle, blowing through the apartment like a spring breeze.
_"Hyeon."_
And she immediately got up and washed the dishes.
Although she couldn't see ahead, she smiled well.
Although she felt shy, she hugged Kim Hyeon's neck with longing.
So every night, she greedily sucked his tongue and opened her legs for him.
He rubbed his erection against her as if insulting her—grinding, insistent. The shy girl opened herself wide while receiving him, suppressing the sounds threatening to escape by biting her lip.
Then she felt confused about what she was feeling—and pulled his tongue **hard**.
Just seeing his surprised expression made the feeling of release begin to flow.
_All of this was a mission._
_I have to believe that this is a mission._
She couldn't look directly at him. Her gaze, when it touched his neck, always curved with suspicion.
And then suddenly—his gentle gaze became something she **hated** intensely.
_A survivor like me—crazy—targeting his child, right?_
_How could I... the child of someone like **that**._
_A state agent. How could the child of such a creature be._
Every time she delved into her inner self, her thoughts fragmented.
She seemed fascinated—holding his hips, tearing at his lower body. Though she felt pain from the relentless pressure, she couldn't sabotage the mission. She steadied his face while slowing the pace.
She felt **nauseous** at her own seemingly gentle appearance.
The longer their married life continued, the more the walls she had built cracked every day—and simultaneously, the **thicker** they became.
_Those were walls that must not crumble._
She kissed the Owl's lips incessantly while hoping this disgusting mission would end soon.
---
Then, finally—in the early hours of a cold morning—the awaited order came.
> **"Pull back."**
> **"Rigai Viktor is experiencing personal issues."**
"What does that mean?"
Lee Wooshin stepped out of the bedroom, keeping his voice low so his sleeping wife wouldn't wake. Through the crack of the door, he saw her stirring restlessly.
Her blanket had fallen off again.
With a firm expression, he clicked his tongue.
> **"Rigai attempted suicide."**
"...!"
> **"It seems the authorities tried to save him, but there was damage to his head. The news is he's become... like a fool. Just for your information—our intelligence agent sent to Russia has died. Rigai is now in a closed ward."**
"..."
> **"Truly unexpected. He used to be a fairly influential neuroscientist. But now, he can't use his own brain. This world is truly funny, isn't it? Hahaha... All that effort for nothing. Nothing good came of it..."**
The sound of a lighter flicking came through the phone.
However, Deputy Director Joo's tone sounded somewhat **relieved**. Was she happy that the tiring operation was finally over? Or was it the bad news about Rigai that pleased her?
Perhaps both.
> **"Continuing the operation like this will only waste the budget. You need to withdraw as soon as possible as well."**
"The Owl..."
His breath hitched. Lee Wooshin touched his throat, and his lips parted.
"...Will the Owl be left alone?"
> **"You need to withdraw quickly so her eyes can return to normal. What are you talking about?"**
"..."
> **"A child who doesn't even know her husband's face—what can she do? Even if she cries and screams, she'll just be considered crazy. From our perspective, this is much cleaner and more practical."**
"..."
> **"If construction work is delayed by just one day, the losses can reach 20 billion won. That's why they won't stop work even if workers die. Why? With 3 billion, they can compensate for a life. So why delay the schedule? We also need to choose the cheaper option. Like your skills—leave no trace and get out unnoticed."**
A cold attitude that didn't consider—even for a **moment**—the situation of the Owl who would be left behind.
"...Wait."
> **"What?"**
"In two days, I will withdraw."
> **"Alright... You've suffered doing something that wasn't your forte."**
As his emotions nearly exploded, he covered his head as if sealing a drain. He closed off every corner so that no feelings could creep up through the cracks.
---
A memory surfaced—unbidden.
> _"By the way, someone will be moving out."_
> _"Why?"_
> _"It's a bit noisy. Sometimes I hear the sound of things being moved."_
> _"Is it bothersome?"_
> _"No. Just curious. We live in a complex where the neighbors are quite close."_
> _"It will be quiet soon."_
> _"Yeah?"_
> _"I'll go now."_
However, he had wanted to ask one last thing.
_If I disappear just like this... would you..._
_Forget about Kim Hyeon just like that... after waking up from your nap?_
---
## — Present Day —
## — The Crematorium —
"Please... save me, Instructor..."
She felt that crying would be more fitting—but when she faced that decaying skin, her stomach **churned**.
Lee Wooshin froze, suppressing the pain in his chest.
He had often seen her endure like a bull—silent, stubborn, unyielding. But this was the first time he had seen her **collapse** like this.
In that state, she couldn't throw away the rotten prosthetic. Instead, she kept hugging it and crying.
There was a feeling he couldn't quite understand in her actions.
_I underestimated my wife's feelings._
This was the result of turning a blind eye to prejudice and being overconfident.
That voice—_"please save me"_—shattered the wall he had built over the years.
"...Please. **Please** save me. I... can't breathe."
"...!"
At this most undignified moment, her name embedded itself like a nail in his heart.
That shameless feeling almost escaped his lips—he bit down as hard as he could to prevent it.
_If I reveal everything._
_If I do, Seoryeong..._
He wanted to let go of Kim Hyeon by any means necessary. Seeing that unfinished relationship—seeing her still searching for it—**infuriated** him.
He wanted to finish everything this time.
And he hoped Han Seoryeong's life would return to what it once was.
However, as he clearly saw the extent and manner in which a woman who had lost her husband could collapse, he sharply realized his own negligence.
_However... even so..._
"—."
_I won't be able to tell you the truth._
_Seoryeong._
_I know who your biological father is._
_I know what your biological father did._
_I remember the moment everything exploded—the heat engulfing everything around me._
_When I got up, lifting the scattered pieces of bodies like tiles, everything was already charred._
_So I hope you don't touch it. Don't open it. Don't even **look** at that burnt doorknob._
_This isn't about obligation or duty to the state intelligence agency._
_If I could bury the fact that I am Kim Hyeon... if you abandon your husband and I give up on the classified documents... and we bury all these operations deep in the ground..._
_Could we live like an ordinary couple?_
_Without worrying about money._
_Living like everyone else?_
He closed his mouth tightly.
"Please... save me here..."
The man finally concealed the expression that looked as if he was about to convulse—and extended his pale hand.
_When all hope is lost, now is the time for Lee Wooshin to appear._
Once again, he closed his eyes, determined to be a liar for the rest of his life.
Even though burdened by guilt, he wanted to live out an endless duty by her side.
The pungent stench that assaulted his nose felt perfectly fitting for himself.
---
The scent that brushed the tip of her nose felt **foreign**.
Seoryeong went to the crematorium carrying the death certificate of an unnamed person—given by the National Intelligence Service. She didn't know whose corpse she was cremating after letting go of Kim Hyeon.
Fortunately, there was no one crying around her.
Before the body was placed in the incinerator, she threw their wedding photograph into the flames along with the corpse.
For some reason, she felt as if she heard Deputy Director Joo's voice like a hallucination.
> _"Something like this won't work. He won't just hand over Kim Hyeon."_
She regretted crying earlier. Then quickly wiped away her tears.
"Instructor, do you remember what I said before?"
Her voice was weak and hoarse—barely more than a whisper.
"I have to do something more **dangerous** every time I fail."
"...!"
"It turns out I'm still far from being enough to be a Deputy Director."
"Han Seoryeong."
As if trying to suppress his chaotic thoughts, Lee Wooshin suddenly intervened. But Seoryeong ignored him and continued, her gaze somewhat hazy.
"Do I have to make this **bigger**? What do I have to do for Kim Hyeon to look for me?"
"..."
"How can I make him scold me, criticize me, and so desperately want to **catch** me? Should I throw a homemade bomb at the National Intelligence Service?"
"...!"
"After that... will Kim Hyeon be loyal to this country?"
Suddenly, the corner of her eye twitched sharply.
"How far do you want to **corner** me?"
Seoryeong finally rose from her stone-like position.
The lingering smell of the rotting corpse and the pungent, unique odor of the crematorium still assaulted her nose. To forget this terrible smell—to not be submerged in this despair—she stood firmly.
_I can't stay still like a corpse._
_I can't just close my eyes and live the life they want._
Not until she blamed those who had toyed with her so many times.
Kim Hyeon—and then the anger toward the National Intelligence Service—finally **consumed** her.
"I really want to act like a **bitch** now."
"...!"
"Otherwise, it feels like I'll suffocate and die..."
Her strangely widened eyes locked onto Lee Wooshin.
From behind her, the smell of smoke from the burning body was pungent, acrid.
"If I sleep with another man... that's a bad thing, right?"
The disappointment toward her husband had crossed the line. Her heart felt **twisted**.
"These thoughts keep attacking me. Evil thoughts don't stop. This head is full of something **bad**, and it feels sticky—it won't just go away. I want at least one second where everything is **empty**. So..."
She took a deep breath, absorbing the pungent, rotten smell deep into her lungs—and prayed.
"...Please let me stay **alive**. Let's do that together."