"—Say it."
The breath she had been holding finally burst out—loud enough to make her vision shake.
She had to speak. Quickly.
But her ragged breathing made her head feel light, untethered.
"There... there are dead people."
"—..."
The other end was silent. The pause stretched so long it felt eternal.
"—…Han Seoryeong?"
His voice sounded hesitant, as if he couldn't understand why he was hearing this woman's voice on a dead operative's earpiece.
"Yes... I'm Han Seoryeong."
Her thoughts were chaotic—tangled threads she couldn't pull apart. She didn't know where to start. Seoryeong drew a deep breath and yanked her own hair hard enough to sting.
"The staff... all the staff are dead."
"—...What?"
"Everyone is dead."
Her gaze swept the cold, frozen room.
"But Channa isn't here. She disappeared from her room."
"—..."
She had been cleaning these staff rooms for days. If something was wrong, she would have noticed.
Seoryeong carefully scanned her surroundings, searching for anything out of place.
"There's no blood. No signs of struggle. The sheets are pulled back like only one person got up." A pause. "And there's no smell at all. But in the dead staff members' rooms, the smell is very strong—like perfume..."
She stopped mid-sentence.
"The common kitchen..."
_Just like when I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night... maybe Channa woke up for the same reason._
_If they crossed paths..._
_Then the killer must be looking for her right now._
The thought made her heart plummet.
"I think the killer is still in the hotel."
Lee Wooshin, who had been silent for a long time, finally replied—his voice unnervingly calm.
"—In that case, Channa is most likely dead."
"—!"
_What...?_
_What did he just say...?_
Seoryeong's already pale face drained completely of color.
"—Do you want me to be blunt? Han Seoryeong—you might be killed too."
"—!"
"—They won't leave any living witnesses."
Her heart froze.
_What exactly am I hearing right now..._
"—You still don't understand the situation? How do you think you'll escape from a trained killer?"
"..."
"—Listen carefully."
Lee Wooshin's voice dropped lower—so low it made the hairs on her arms stand on end.
"—There's a gun under my bed. The door is locked, but if you hit the doorknob with something heavy, it'll break open easily." A beat. "But if you make a sound, they'll know your position instantly."
"—!"
"—Sorry. But you have to do it."
Her mouth went dry. Her eyes trembled. But Lee Wooshin continued speaking—cold, detached.
"—The most important thing right now is to get a weapon. Do you understand?"
"..."
Seoryeong nodded quickly, even though no sound left her throat.
"—Brace yourself. Because no matter how fast we drive, we can only bring back your corpse. So if you want to survive—*run. Right now.*"
His command rang out like a warning shot.
Seoryeong ran.
She bolted toward his room and kicked the door with everything she had.
**Crash!**
**Crash!**
Two kicks. The doorknob shattered. The door swung open.
She thrust her hand under the bed, felt along the top of the frame—her fingertips brushed something heavy and cold.
The barrel of a gun.
"I found it...!"
She stood immediately, ready to sprint toward the common kitchen.
But her feet stopped when she heard the next command.
"—In that case, leave Channa. Get out of there right now."
The man's voice was ice.
"—That's the only way Han Seoryeong survives."
Her foot—already mid-step—froze in place.
Seoryeong stood still, trapped in the grip of fear. She clenched her fists as the command echoed in her ear.
Strangely, she understood exactly what Lee Wooshin meant.
Her heart felt... *relieved*.
The cold logic tugged at her, gave her permission to obey.
Even she herself wanted to listen.
_Maybe I really won't be able to get out of this place alive._
_Just seeing those two corpses was enough to shatter my composure._
"—The weak and stubborn will die. I call it a 'meaningless death.'"
"..."
"—Hesitating in a situation like this isn't something you can afford. Do you understand me?"
Every word seemed designed to pull her in the direction he wanted. And obeying his command actually made her chest feel a little calmer—a little easier to breathe.
"—I am the leader of the special security team, and I'm responsible for this mission. So Han Seoryeong must follow my orders." His tone sharpened. "This is the last time I'll say it: leave Channa and get out of that hotel immediately."
_Yes._
_It was as if he was helping her ease her guilt._
But—
"No. I don't want to do that."
Seoryeong ran straight toward the common kitchen—as if breaking free from invisible chains.
She only looked ahead. Nothing else mattered.
The instinct within her screamed to obey, but leaving Channa was **not an option**.
"—Han Seoryeong!"
The man's voice exploded through the earpiece.
"—Don't do something stupid like this! Do you really want to die?"
"No—!"
"I've seen so many people die because they followed their own stubbornness. Stop this foolishness and get out of there immediately!"
Seoryeong gasped for breath.
She didn't understand why anger suddenly erupted from deep inside her chest—white-hot and consuming.
The command to abandon someone so easily made her feel a visceral sense of rejection.
"Don't leave anyone!" Her voice cracked with fury. "Never leave anyone, no matter what happens!"
Silence swallowed the other end of the line.
In truth, Lee Wooshin's cold words had struck the deepest part of her heart—hard.
She knew exactly why she felt this way.
**Because she still carried the wound from when her husband had left her so easily.**
She wasn't numb enough to ignore it.
Maybe it was true that what she was doing now was stubborn. Foolish. Irrational.
But she didn't want to succumb to the logic Lee Wooshin offered.
_If using someone and then discarding them was normal..._
_...then how could she blame Kim Hyeon for leaving her?_
If Hyeon had reasons important enough to abandon his wife—if those reasons were truly valid, truly acceptable—then maybe she would feel regret so deep she wouldn't know what to do with it.
What she hoped for—**_what she needed_**—was that Kim Hyeon had loved her deeply enough to let go of all those important things.
Deeply enough not to leave her.
No matter how foolish the thing he had to do.
Seoryeong swallowed the emotions threatening to overflow.
"I have to be able to talk to him someday...!"
"—..."
"This is the feeling I have. And this is what I'm doing."
"—..."
"I can't leave anyone. And that's why I can't leave *you* either."
Seoryeong knew she had to prove her own way first.
She would not be the one to leave or let go of anyone.
She wanted the man—*whatever man was listening*—to acknowledge the thirst for life she had clung to all this time.
"—A foolish feeling that makes you act like an idiot."
His voice paused, then returned with a mocking laugh threading through it.
"—I've met many people like you, Han Seoryeong. But they're all dead."
Even though his words were merciless, Seoryeong didn't feel hurt.
Because at this moment, she had begun to rely on that voice.
"Then I'll be the first one, okay?"
"—...!"
"The first person who doesn't die from doing that foolish thing."
Even though she couldn't see the man's face, Seoryeong felt she could imagine his expression.
_Frowning. Displeased._
She didn't turn back. Didn't hesitate.
She went straight to the common kitchen.
The gun in her hand felt heavy. Her legs trembled. But her mind was **calm**.
She had no intention of dying here.
**Because she hadn't met Kim Hyeon yet.**
And because of that, she couldn't just die.
This wasn't recklessness.
It was because she wasn't afraid of the pain that might come.
And she was certain she wouldn't give up first.
Finally, she found the door—the one she had become most familiar with over the past few days.
She opened it.
A piercing, metallic stench slammed into her senses.
"—Ah... aah..."
A soft groan escaped her throat.
Channa lay limply on the floor, her gaze fading like light draining from a dying lamp.
Seoryeong crawled closer and pressed down hard on Channa's neck—where blood still pulsed out in rhythmic spurts.
_No... Channa, you can't... you can't..._
A faint whimpering sound escaped her throat.
Channa tried to say something, her eyes nearly closed. She opened her mouth, but only ragged, wet breaths came out.
"Ha... this..."
"Stay conscious, Channa... Just hold on a little longer, okay...!"
"Ha..."
Channa whispered something trembling and pushed Seoryeong's arm away with surprising force.