"Uh—yes or no?"
The anxious question made Channa shake her head without thinking.
"In that case, I really don't understand anymore."
"What do you mean?"
Lee Wooshin's voice was low, his tone carefully suppressed—like pressure building behind a dam.
"It's impossible for kidneys to enlarge that quickly in such a short amount of time."
"What—!"
"Then, do you think what she's doing now looks *normal*?"
"...!"
Channa flinched. She couldn't suppress the unease that crawled up her spine whenever someone asked about things that might be illegal. Her mind raced—*could this person know about her sister's plan?*
The plan to cross into the North.
Or to kidnap the deputy director of the intelligence unit.
Had it been leaked?
Channa's face drained of color.
This new team leader was impossible to predict. Sometimes he seemed to let things slide completely—careless, even lazy. But other times, he could be terrifyingly meticulous about the smallest details.
Most of the special team's clients were wealthy and corrupt, and Lee Wooshin himself had demonstrated exceptional social skills and management abilities when dealing with them. But among the staff, his questions were strange and random: blood types, whether someone had a boyfriend, trivial personal details that seemed meaningless.
When there was free time, he would nap.
When training arrived, he would smile as if he didn't care—but his presence alone could make others feel *crushed*.
An unpredictable and arbitrary superior.
If he became suspicious of her sister...
"Every morning you bring three servings of rice for those criminals." His voice remained flat. "Do you think that's normal?"
"Ah..."
*That's all he meant.*
Channa exhaled quietly, relief flooding through her.
"Even though they only need to open emergency rations, someone has to cook Korean food for them too? Did this company send a housekeeper because they were worried about our *food*?"
"..."
"They're disguised as helpers so that if someone dies, there's someone to take care of the body." He paused. "But it seems Han Seoryeong is quite useful for this mission."
His tone implied satisfaction—which only made Channa uneasy again.
At that moment, the loading bar on her laptop screen filled rapidly. The security system breach was nearly complete. Fingerprint traces began appearing across the display. Simultaneously, lights in the building flickered on one by one—as if someone knew they were infiltrating.
Channa bit her nails, staring at the screen.
"Hurry up and finish... *hurry*..."
"It seems Han Seoryeong is experiencing perceptual disturbances due to her age now."
This completely irrelevant observation—spoken in the middle of their urgent operation—made Channa's eye twitch.
"If it's not due to alcohol damage, then she's really stupid enough to try eating garbage just to determine if it's good food or not." He continued as if discussing the weather. "And the man who stole her money seems to be a real scumbag."
"..."
"I didn't expect someone to be that stupid."
The sarcasm was cold and directionless—aimed at no one and everyone at once.
Channa gritted her teeth.
"I mean, she even got involved with the most heinous man in the world." Her voice came out harder than intended. "My sister suffered so much because of that person..."
"..."
"If I ever see him, I'll cut open his stomach and stab him with skewers." She jabbed at her keyboard with unnecessary force. "No need to ask more questions. Just know that much."
Lee Wooshin pressed his own neck, as if trying to relieve tension in the muscles there.
"That's why I brought your sister to work at this company."
"...You?"
He paused before answering.
"There are many reasons. But the main one is this—this company is full of men." His voice was oddly matter-of-fact. "So I thought, if her heart isn't completely closed off, maybe she should look at strong young men for a while. I just want her to recover quickly. That's all."
"..."
"This kind of recovery is the most effective, right? There's nothing to regret about this intervention."
The laptop screen changed. The constantly spinning code stopped, and various files began opening rapidly—cascading across the display like a waterfall of data.
Channa, focused entirely on her work, didn't notice how quiet the room had become.
"So it was you."
Lee Wooshin's voice was soft—almost gentle. Something like relief colored his words, and then he laughed.
He patted Channa's back lightly. A signal: her task was finished. She could leave.
Channa pulled up the hood of her jacket and left the villa without looking back. The others would continue to the border, but her job was done.
_Once I get home, I should make spicy ramen for my sister!_
She disappeared into the completely dark hallway, footsteps fading into silence.
---
## — The Hotel —
"—!"
Seoryeong woke in the middle of the night.
She had never jolted awake so suddenly before. For a long moment, she lay still, staring at the cracked ceiling above her bed.
_Was it because I ate ramen too late...?_
She'd had a late-night snack close to midnight and gone straight to sleep. Now her mouth was dry, her throat parched. She climbed out of bed and checked the time.
This was when the team members who had gone to the border should have returned.
Although it was called a *mission*, her life here wasn't much different from headquarters. Cleaning. Cooking. Cleaning again. A monotonous routine that repeated without variation.
And tomorrow, she would be returning to Korea.
She stroked her cheek with a sense of weariness, then stepped down from the bed.
"..."
Her gaze swept across the room.
_What is this...?_
That strange feeling had returned.
This old hotel had impossibly thin walls—so thin that every sound carried through them at night. Foreign languages drifting from neighboring rooms. Toilets flushing. Heavy footsteps in the corridor. Glasses being set on tables.
But now—
_Why was there no sound at all?_
The staff member in the next room always coughed dryly and played classic movies at full volume. Always. Without fail.
But tonight: *silence*.
Absolute silence.
Goosebumps rose along Seoryeong's arms. She rubbed them absently, then opened her bedroom door.
The creak of the hinges echoed through the empty hallway—too loud, too sharp.
Tonight felt unnaturally quiet.
She walked slowly down the deteriorating corridor, her bare feet cold against the worn floorboards. Her gaze stopped at the door to the driver's room.
It was slightly open.
Her tongue went dry. Her heart began to pound—hard enough that she could feel it in her throat.
She reached out and pushed the door open.
What she saw inside turned her blood to ice.
"Ah... a..."
Her hand flew to her mouth, muffling the scream that tried to escape.
The white sheets—*the ones she had just washed*—were stained red. Blood had spread across the entire surface, soaking into the fabric, dripping onto the floor.
Only the handle of a knife was visible, protruding from the man's neck. Another handle jutted from his forehead. The blades had been driven in so deep that blood was still flowing, still *fresh*.
"Ugh..."
On trembling legs, Seoryeong forced herself forward. She reached out and touched the man's nose with shaking fingers.
_What happened... What exactly happened...?_
He was dead.
The driver was dead—his body covered in blood, his eyes still open, frozen in an expression she couldn't name.
Seoryeong stood paralyzed for a moment before something inside her snapped into motion. She ran out of the room, sprinting toward the next door—the one she had passed without paying attention.
Her trembling steps grew faster.
She grabbed the doorknob without hesitation. Her hand shook, but she gritted her teeth and pushed.
A disgusting, metallic smell hit her immediately.
"No...!"
_What is this... What exactly is this... It can't be..._
Inside, the blonde medical officer lay face down on the floor. Lifeless. A knife handle protruded from her back. Blood had poured from her mouth, staining the front of her clothes crimson.
*Too much blood.*
There was no way to stop it in time.
_Why were two people dead—and I didn't know at all?_
Seoryeong wiped her sweat-soaked face, fighting to control her ragged breathing. She scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this.
"..."
There were no signs of struggle.
Nothing overturned. Nothing broken. Nothing out of place except the body and the blood.
That meant they had been stabbed directly in their vital points—before they could scream, before they could fight back. Killed instantly.
But *why*?
On a night like this, who could have caught them off guard?
Her gaze stopped on the far wall.
_Wait..._
_Then the next room—_
"Channa...!"
Heat surged through her body. The next room was Channa's.
Seoryeong's knees buckled, but she caught herself before she fell. Then she noticed something—something that made her freeze.
In the dead medical officer's ear, a small black device was still attached.
A wireless earphone.
Even while being attacked, she had been trying to do something. Trying to communicate. Trying to warn someone.
The thumb-sized device was wet with blood.
Seoryeong pulled it free and shoved it into her own ear. She didn't know how to use it—didn't know if it was even still connected to anything—but she pressed it randomly as she ran toward Channa's room.
_Please..._
_Please let nothing have happened..._
She threw open Channa's door—
—and heard a soft, familiar voice through the earpiece.