"Are you capable of working here?"
"...Yes."
It was clear that sitting in silence wasn't going to work.
"You got this position because you were recommended by the Head of the Intelligence Division." His tone was casual, but the question beneath it was sharp. "Have you known each other before?"
"Do I have to answer that?"
Seoryeong's reply came out harder than she intended. She lifted the corner of her mouth in what might have passed for a smile, but there was nothing resembling warmth in her eyes.
"Yes. You should answer." He didn't look at her—his gaze remained fixed on the road ahead. "There was another woman scheduled for this assignment, but she injured her back and had to be hospitalized."
"...!"
"I'm trying to fill that gap. Answering honestly would be in your best interest." A pause. "If you understand the situation, I hope you'll cooperate."
_So this is a mini-interview._
But the word *cooperate* rang hollow—a formality wrapped around something more coercive. The oppressive atmosphere pressed against her chest, making every breath feel deliberate.
"I know him personally."
"You know a hacker personally?"
He repeated her words slowly, fingers tapping an idle rhythm against the steering wheel. Seoryeong kept her gaze fixed on the window, making it abundantly clear she had no interest in continuing this conversation.
"Know him personally," he mused. "But you're aware that Jung Pilgyu is married."
"—!"
Her head snapped toward him before she could stop herself. Their eyes met—his cold, calculating, carrying an implication she couldn't quite decipher.
"If you speak in fragments, my conclusions will also be fragmented." His voice dropped, smooth and dangerous. "Want them even more fragmented?"
The mockery threading through his tone made her frown involuntarily. This man was nothing like the enthusiastic young soldier she'd imagined. Someone this cunning, this skilled at verbal games—he wasn't the type who could be handled easily.
Seoryeong buried her irritation and forced herself to elaborate.
"I'm more familiar with Jung Pilgyu's younger sister."
"Channa?"
His brow furrowed. Without warning, he honked the horn—a short, sharp blast—and changed lanes with fluid precision to avoid a car that had cut in front of them.
Seoryeong flinched.
Even though she should have been used to sudden loud noises by now, her heart still lurched against her ribs. The sound wasn't loud enough to make her body lock up, but it was enough to drag her back—back to the moment she lost her sight. Back to Kim Hyeon.
The memory darkened her mood instantly.
"...You know she's a very talented hacker?"
His voice had softened as the road ahead thickened with traffic. Seoryeong swallowed down the longing that had risen unbidden and nodded slowly. She knew Channa was a hacker. She'd never heard that her abilities were exceptional.
"In 2016, the Bangladesh National Bank was hacked. The estimated losses exceeded one billion US dollars." He spoke as though reciting facts from a report. "But the attack failed at the last second. The perpetrator was a sixteen-year-old female hacker—supported by the North Korean government."
"...!"
"That girl was Channa."
The composed expression Seoryeong had been fighting to maintain cracked apart. The man continued speaking, calm as ever, even as the road curved and he turned with it.
"North Korea is one of the poorest countries in the world, but it's the most advanced in cybercrime. They recruit children with mathematical talent from a young age and train them in specialized facilities in China." A beat of silence. "Channa was the best result their cyber warfare unit ever produced."
"..."
"At least—before she defected."
A chill crawled down Seoryeong's spine.
_This wasn't just an ordinary defector._
Channa's past was extraordinary. And now they were trying to tie *her* into a case involving an attempt to cross into the North... Pilgyu must have been sweating through his clothes when they threatened him. One wrong move, and everything would collapse.
The unease grew heavier as the weight of her own miscalculation settled in.
_Too late. It's already too late._
While she was lost in thought, the car rolled to a stop at a red light.
"So—"
The man reached toward the dashboard and retrieved a piece of hard candy, popping it into his mouth. One cheek puffed out slightly, giving him an almost boyish appearance. He spoke while chewing, the words slightly distorted.
"How do you two know each other? From the outside, there doesn't seem to be any obvious connection."
"Should I tell you my personal affairs as well?"
"Don't overthink it." He shrugged one shoulder. "It's better to just say it plainly."
"..."
"Even if it's only for a short while, I need to be able to trust the person feeding my team. If you seem untrustworthy, we'll have problems." His jaw worked against the candy. "If even one person gets sick from the food, the success rate of this mission could drop by half. So if anything's unclear—all of this goes wrong from the start."
_Someone like this was truly exhausting._
Seoryeong stuck out her tongue slightly, making sure he couldn't see.
"Is it a matter that can't be discussed?" He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Or were you told to dig up someone's information illegally?"
"—!"
The sentence landed like a blade—precise and unexpected. Seoryeong fell silent, fingers curling tight around the hem of her shirt. The man's gaze sharpened, watching her reaction with obvious interest.
"Seriously?"
She hesitated, calculating how much to reveal. Before she could decide, he smiled—a thin, mocking curve of his lips.
"Someone must have taken your money and run away, right?"
He bit down hard on the candy and shrugged, as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Seoryeong's jaw tightened.
She really didn't like the smell of other people. And this man—who had already left such a terrible first impression—made her skin crawl. But what confused her most was his attitude. It felt like he was evaluating her, yet not genuinely interested. That vague, dismissive quality grated against her nerves.
She kept her mouth firmly shut.
"I told you, didn't I? If you only give me fragments, how do you expect me to act?"
"Sorry."
"Casual conversation is easy enough." His voice hardened. "But learning slowly—that's another story entirely. I've seen people die because they had to explain the same thing repeatedly."
His gaze pierced through the shadow of his cap, sharp with reproach. But Seoryeong still didn't respond.
Their eyes met in loaded silence.
"If you don't want to cooperate, I'll get straight to the point."
"..."
"I'm the one who compiled the list of personnel going overseas." The words fell like stones. "And traveling with the special security team isn't good for *sensitive* people. Moreover—cowardly people shouldn't go at all."
"—!"
"Seoryeong, you should just continue working as usual. That would be better for everyone."
The moment the light turned green, he pressed the accelerator.
_Wait—what he just said..._
"So no matter how annoyed you feel, just do what I say." A pause. "Unless you want to work yourself to death."
Seoryeong tilted her head, confusion flickering across her features.
_What does he mean? That if I go, it'll be dangerous? That there's something sensitive people shouldn't see?_
_Is he insane?_
But then—like the prick of a needle against her skin—realization struck.
_That's exactly what I'm looking for._
"If you answer well," he added, his tone almost light, "I'll make sure you don't have to go."
_No._
_This is complete nonsense._
_I **have** to go. I **have** to know._
_In that case... I just need to do the opposite._
The calculation took only seconds. Seoryeong smoothed the wrinkled hem of her shirt and straightened in her seat.
"So—what do you want to know from me?"
"Heo Channa couldn't even be recruited by the National Intelligence Service." He glanced at her sidelong. "Is she really worth the money spent on her?"
"Don't you think the NIS's failure was because *they* weren't capable?"
He paused—just for a moment—before turning the steering wheel with a smooth, practiced motion.
"Did you lose all your money?"
"I lost more than that." Her voice came out flatter than she intended. "There are things that can be stolen from someone without involving money. From the way you talk, you sound more innocent than I expected."
"...Then have you caught the culprit?"
"Why?" She turned toward him, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to help catch them for the company's benefit, or for the welfare of the employees?"
"..."
He paused again, removing his cap and replacing it in one fluid motion. But the soft chuckle that escaped him suggested he was enjoying this conversation far more than he let on.
"If you had to go that far, it means you haven't caught them yet. Right?"
"..."
"So what now?" The mockery returned to his voice. "It seems like they really underestimated you."
_What... does he mean by that?_
Seoryeong felt a strange unease coiling in her stomach. She glared at him, but all she could see was the clean line of his jaw as he turned his face away.
Irritation surged through her—hot and sudden—pushing words out of her mouth before she could think better of them.
"No. I'm still looking for him." Her voice hardened into something close to a vow. "Even if it takes months. Even if it takes years. I won't give up. So it's not time to feel sorry for me—or ask for understanding."
The sharp crack of candy being bitten echoed from his direction.
"If you don't realize you're wasting your time, it means you're dealing with a bad person at the wrong time and place."
But Seoryeong shook her head—firm, unyielding.
"No. **He's** the one who chose the wrong person. **He's** the one who made the wrong choice. Not me."
"..."
"And in the end—I **will** find him."
He looked at her then.
Really looked.
His gaze traveled slowly down from her eyes to her nose, then to her lips—unhurried, assessing, carrying a weight she couldn't name. There was no smile on his flat, unreadable face. Just that deep, penetrating stare that made something in her chest tighten.
At that moment, the navigation system chimed.
> "You have arrived at your destination."
He stopped the car and pulled the handbrake. The engine fell silent. In the stillness of the vehicle, the atmosphere grew thick—strange and indescribable, charged with something neither of them acknowledged.
Seoryeong unfastened her seatbelt and reached for the door handle.
*Click.*
The lock engaged before she could even blink.
_What—?_
She frowned and turned back toward him.
He was smiling now—relaxed, almost pleasant.
"By the way," he said, "I haven't had a chance to introduce myself."
"Nice to meet you."
His dark eyes held hers without wavering.
"I'm Lee Wooshin. Head of the Special Security Team."