"So, what brings you here?"
"To protect a drug lord, of course."
The answer came easily—too easily—and yet the curiosity hadn't left Seoryeong's face. The medical officer with bleached blonde hair chuckled softly, clearly amused by her reaction.
"You must have guessed this was dirty work."
"I could guess, but..."
"There's a famous Mexican drug lord named El Chapo." He leaned back against the peeling wallpaper. "But this one is Thai—nicknamed 'the El Chapo of Asia.' His drug trade earnings are estimated at around eight billion US dollars. That's approximately ten trillion won." A pause. "He's currently being hunted via an Interpol red notice."
He smiled, showing too many teeth.
"But he's managed to evade capture for ten years."
The door swung open. An officer who had gone out earlier returned, announcing he'd found a car. Without ceremony, he walked to the bed and dropped his full weight onto the mattress—shoes still on. The frame groaned. The springs bounced. Dust erupted from the fabric in a gray cloud.
Seoryeong stared at the particles floating in the light, her expression grim.
The medical officer's laughter still echoed off the walls.
"That drug lord is a VIP customer of Blast Company."
"—!"
"They've been helping him hide for ten years. Private jets. Fake IDs. Safe houses across three continents."
"Ah..."
Seoryeong covered her mouth and nose with one hand, trying to keep the dust out of her lungs. The uncleaned room made every breath feel like an act of endurance. _Was this also part of the job?_ The other staff rooms probably weren't much better.
She sighed and rolled up her sleeves.
"They say half of Blast Company's revenue comes from the special security team." The medical officer watched her with something between curiosity and pity. "And that's no joke. The money we receive is really significant."
Seoryeong dropped onto the hole-ridden sofa. Exhaustion hit her harder than expected—probably because she hadn't slept on the plane. The cushions wheezed beneath her weight.
The medical officer leaned closer, his bleached hair catching the dim light.
"Do you like money?"
"Not really."
He clicked his tongue. Sighed.
"In that case, you'll probably quit too."
"I won't quit."
Seoryeong pushed herself up from the sofa and began searching for the cleaning supplies she'd prepared. She had gathered everything according to the division head's list, but hadn't actually expected to use any of it.
"If they don't really need the money, most people are usually shocked and run away immediately." The medical officer counted on his fingers. "There was a woman who held out a cross at me the moment she understood. Cried and begged me to take her away from here. An old woman kept grabbing my arm, pleading. Some tried to call the police."
He tilted his head, studying her.
"So—which one are you?"
"I'm going to clean up first."
"What?"
"This place is actually a gold mine."
Seoryeong pulled on rubber gloves as she spoke. The medical officer's expression soured instantly.
"But you said earlier that you weren't interested in money."
She didn't answer.
Instead, she yanked down the curtains in one swift motion. Behind the filthy, dust-caked window, a faint gray view of the city emerged—smog-hazed rooftops stretching toward the horizon.
_This is indeed a gold mine._
_The National Intelligence Service would definitely be interested._
This company—or rather, this special security team—was the most perfect stage she could have asked for.
"This company is really messed up."
Seoryeong began to hum softly, something almost like contentment in the sound.
---
## — Three Hours Later —
The cleaning took approximately three hours.
The white mask she'd started with had turned ash-gray. Dust erupted every time she touched anything—from under beds, inside drawers, behind cabinets, around window frames, throughout bathrooms. The mop had turned black and been washed and wrung out more times than she could count.
Eight rooms. The entire operational team's quarters.
As she exited the final room, a dull ache began spreading through her lower back.
**Thump—**
Her hand on the stair railing felt a strong vibration from below. The sound of footsteps—many footsteps—echoed up through the spiral staircase, growing louder. She turned her head.
A group of men was ascending from the lowest floor. Their synchronized movement made the old iron structure shake like ripples spreading across water.
The man leading at the front raised his face.
His eyes found hers immediately.
"..."
"..."
The unavoidable meeting of gazes felt almost ordinary—and yet not ordinary at all.
The fiery red light of sunset reflected off the old hotel's surfaces, painting everything in shades of amber and rust. Against this backdrop, the man with the clean white face stood out the most. Lee Wooshin. His figure had appeared small as a thumb from far below, but he grew larger with each step, ascending without taking his eyes off her.
His gaze was cold enough to make Seoryeong shiver.
Her grip on the railing tightened unconsciously.
"Senior—!"
A familiar voice cut through the tension.
"Ugh... meeting you outside of Korea like this just makes me miss you even more!"
"...Why are you here—"
Seoryeong's mouth fell open behind her mask as Channa emerged from among the men, chuckling softly as she approached.
"Surprised? I work here too, you know."
"Channa, you're part of *this* place?"
_When she cursed that annoying Team Leader..._
_The one she meant must have been..._
_That Team Leader..._
_Was..._
Channa averted her gaze, looking almost shy.
At that moment, the rest of the operational team began ascending past them. Without needing to ask, Seoryeong knew exactly who they were—members of the special security team.
A thin man with sharp, predatory eyes.
A dark-skinned man who looked strong enough to break bones with his bare hands.
A serious-faced man whose lips seemed permanently sealed.
All of them passed her without acknowledgment, offering only silent nods of respect to Lee Wooshin before disappearing into their rooms. They wore ordinary clothes, but the aura they carried was anything but ordinary.
_Dangerous._
As Channa followed them inside, only Seoryeong and Lee Wooshin remained in the hallway.
He stood with his body angled slightly to the side, speaking in a lazy tone that didn't match the sharpness in his eyes.
"You've already signed the confidentiality agreement, right?"
"...Yes."
"In that case, you know everything about this job by now." His gaze traveled down her dust-covered form. "So why are you still here?"
There was obvious disdain in the way he looked at her.
_What does he mean?_
Seoryeong returned his stare with curiosity. He licked his smooth lips, frowned, then spoke again.
"I still don't understand. Why are you so dirty and covered in dust like this?"
"The room was very dirty."
"..."
"No one here cleans at all."
Lee Wooshin's frown deepened. He took a breath, then forced his expression back to its usual flatness. But something in his face looked strange—as if he were seeing something utterly unexpected, or facing a problem without a clear solution.
He closed his eyes briefly, pressing thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose. Looked up at the ceiling. Exhaled.
_Wasn't that what he wanted to ask?_
_I thought my answer was correct..._
_But apparently not._
When his face finally returned to its calm, composed state, he smiled—polite, distant.
"Two years ago, there was a Thai police chief who killed a drug dealer because the bribe he asked for wasn't paid."
"—!"
"He tortured the dealer to death. Because the amount offered was too small." His voice remained conversational, almost pleasant. "He covered the man's face with a plastic bag and beat him until he stopped breathing."
Seoryeong listened with wide eyes, blinking in confusion.
"The video of the incident spread online. Eventually, the case was exposed." He paused. "But even now, that police chief hasn't been arrested."
"..."
"Han Seoryeong." The smile didn't fade, but his tone turned ice-cold. "Do you realize what you're doing in this country right now? Did you come here to help people who commit such heinous acts? Or are you just cooking for those who assemble weapons to guard drug smuggling routes?"
His mockery was gentle. His eyes were not.
"But you still have the desire to clean a place like this."
The words struck like a reprimand aimed at a child who understood nothing—yet the look in his eyes was far too cold to tolerate. Seoryeong frowned. His voice seemed to be asking something else entirely:
_You haven't run away yet?_
She roughly brushed the hair that had fallen across her face with the back of her gloved hand.
_Is he serious right now?_
_The person who put her name on the deployment list—why was he talking like this?_
Anger rose in her chest, but she couldn't find the right response. While she was still searching for words, he spoke again.
"I just wanted you to feel a little scared."
"..."
"You're not blind. Why act as if you don't see anything?"
She wondered what he really meant.
"Just do what you usually do." His expression remained unfriendly. "Be yourself."
The more experience she gained, the harder this man became to read—
"I am doing that."
Right now, Seoryeong had no intention of leaving the special security team. She realized that from this moment forward, she needed to give the right answers. The correct responses. Whatever would keep her in place.
"Tomorrow morning—do you want me to put cilantro in the noodles or not?"
"..."
"Or would you prefer I leave it out?"
Watching his face sour again, Seoryeong knew.
_Wrong answer. Again._
---
## — The Next Morning —
Every morning, Seoryeong started her day with a walk to study the surroundings.
She woke before dawn to visit the local market—navigating stalls piled high with unfamiliar vegetables, fish laid out on ice, and spices whose names she didn't know. She prepared simple meals and left them in front of each team member's door before they stirred.
Amidst the unfamiliar architecture and the faint aroma of lemongrass and chili in the humid air, her steps slowed. She looked around with quiet curiosity, cataloging details.
Today, Channa accompanied her on a walk to get to know the area better.