The employees probably hadn't suspected him.
They had opened the door, perhaps thinking he was a sex worker from the streets they'd passed—someone harmless, someone expected.
But after years of living as a blind person, Seoryeong had never ignored her own bodily instincts.
As the assassin lunged again—face twisted with ferocious intent—Seoryeong kicked toward his groin.
Even sitting, she straightened her leg with enough force and flexibility that his curved knife only grazed her skin.
He didn't stop.
Neither did she.
She used her mouth to lock a new bullet into the chamber and aimed at his vital area.
**Bang!**
She fired without hesitation.
The man's face contorted in pain. As he turned toward Channa—perhaps to finish what he'd started—Seoryeong fired two more shots in quick succession.
**Bang! Bang!**
After that, she shot relentlessly, as if losing herself entirely to the act.
The opponent's body—which had been twitching, convulsing—finally lay motionless on the kitchen floor.
"Ha... ha..."
Her hands trembled violently.
There wasn't a single part of her body that didn't hurt. But Seoryeong still didn't put down the gun. Her nerves were taut as wire, sharp as needles—ready to shoot if anyone touched her even slightly.
"—...Ryeong! If you're still alive, answer me!"
The shouting voice entered her ears, but Seoryeong couldn't answer.
_Damn... this gun is really heavy..._
---
## — The Kitchen —
As soon as they climbed the stairs, the familiar metallic scent of blood stung the soldiers' noses.
The cold, silent hallway made the atmosphere even more oppressive.
While the other soldiers checked the bodies of the dead medical officer and courier, Lee Wooshin went straight to the kitchen.
When he saw the shattered door, he paused.
"..."
He frowned slightly, then shook off the unpleasant feeling rising in his chest.
The kitchen looked chaotic at first glance. After taking just a few steps, the soles of his boots were immediately soaked. A dark red liquid—a mixture of *doenjang* soup and blood—covered the kitchen floor in wide, spreading pools.
In the middle of it lay the body of a small man—likely the Thai assassin—motionless, blood flooding his lower body.
Wooshin's gaze shifted to the kitchen pantry.
The door was wide open.
"..."
Han Seoryeong was still standing in position to aim the gun at someone.
Wooshin bent down to look into her eyes.
He let out a long sigh.
"Wow—looks like she passed out," muttered one of the soldiers who had followed him in.
That was correct.
Han Seoryeong had indeed lost consciousness.
The arm holding the gun was severely injured—the skin torn apart, exposing raw muscle and tendon beneath. But despite that, her other hand still pressed firmly against Channa's neck, preventing blood from pouring out.
_This foolish woman..._
The two bodies covered in blood, intertwined together, looked unbearably pitiful.
From the beginning, there hadn't been much hope they would survive.
"What are you waiting for?" Wooshin said, his tone sharp with displeasure. "Get them out of here. Quickly."
Even though he had told them to hold on, those had been comforting words. Fighting desperately was still better than giving up in despair.
But Han Seoryeong and Channa's chances of survival had been nearly zero.
He ordered them to prepare four body bags.
What was most frightening wasn't the fact that Seoryeong had almost died at the hands of the assassin.
It was that **he himself** had pushed her this far.
Lee Wooshin stopped, leaned against the sink, and exhaled heavily for the first time.
His body trembled as if he could finally breathe again.
At that moment, the doctor arrived with an emergency stretcher. Meanwhile, one of the soldiers voiced a comment in a mocking tone.
"Wow—Chief, this one turned out to be a man, not a woman!"
"What did you say?"
"He still has his testicles. Well—*had*, I guess."
"..."
"Looks like our miss took care of him pretty well."
Hearing that, Lee Wooshin knelt on one knee and opened the man's clothes.
Stray bullets were scattered across the kitchen, but quite a few had accurately pierced the man's body.
**Four bullets in the groin.**
**One in the neck.**
Wooshin's face changed instantly.
_The neck..._
That location was almost identical to the wound Channa had sustained.
"Wow—how did she know? Shooting right at the vital points like this?" The soldier shook his head in disbelief. "Instinct or what exactly...!"
At that moment, the doctor who was transferring the two survivors said in an awkward tone:
"Uh... the gun won't come off her hand."
"..."
_That wasn't the woman I used to know._
_She was a stranger I had never met before._
That realization imprinted itself in his mind like a flashing red warning light.
---
## — The Hospital Room —
"—."
Seoryeong dreamed of vague, fragmented memories.
She opened her eyes with difficulty and saw a white ceiling. For a moment, panic seized her—but as soon as she heard the soft hum of a humidifier, she realized:
_I'm not dead._
But the ceiling was so white it almost made her think this place was heaven.
As she lay staring upward with a body too tired to move, the door opened.
A man in a suit entered with steps that seemed entirely natural to him.
Their gazes met.
"—!"
As soon as she saw Lee Wooshin frowning with obvious displeasure, the memories that had been lost came flooding back.
She tried to sit up.
Pain like an electric shock shot through her right arm—spreading through her entire body as if she'd been stabbed with a knife, as if her limb had been crushed by a truck weighing tons.
The agony was so indescribable that her face twisted involuntarily.
"Ugh—!"
"Ah—it looks very painful."
Lee Wooshin's voice was mocking as he slipped his hand into his pants pocket.
"I was waiting for this face. A face that looks like you're in so much pain you want to die."
Whether it should be called blunt or cruel, Seoryeong looked at him in confusion.
"Why are you talking like that?"
"Your right arm didn't completely break off, so you can say you were lucky to survive." He tilted his head. "Do you want me to praise you?"
He might not know for sure, but clearly the man was in a **very** bad mood.
He stood with one leg propped against the floor, looking at Seoryeong with a faint smile—a smile that didn't hide his annoyance in the slightest.
Wooshin watched her for a moment, then sat down in the nurse's chair and loosened his tie. His face looked exhausted.
"I'm sure you have a lot of questions. So which one do you want to hear first?"
Seoryeong immediately remembered the short-haired girl's face, but her mouth was unable to form the words.
The warm touch she had felt at her fingertips—pressing against Channa's neck—still lingered there like a ghost.
Wooshin turned away, clicking his tongue in annoyance.
"Channa is in the ICU now."
"...Still alive?"
She gripped the blanket tightly, as if she couldn't believe it.
"Yes. Still alive. But not conscious yet."
"—!"
"There was an emergency surgery—done right there in Thailand. But she lost far more blood than expected. She almost died twice. Her heart even stopped beating once."
"..."
"Your arm also had to be operated on and stitched up. Due to the effects of anesthesia and painkillers, you kept falling asleep and waking up. We moved you back to Korea immediately after the surgery was finished."
He paused.
"A week has passed."
He explained everything briefly, his tone flat and clinical.
Seoryeong nodded slowly, without sound.
Wooshin leaned back in his chair, pressing the bridge of his nose, then closed his eyes with his arm draped across his face. He spoke again without looking at her.
"Due to the impact of the bullet ricochet, the veins in your wrist were damaged. Your fingers are swollen—they'll need to be bandaged for a while."
"Ah..."
"You might have difficulty with daily life for some time."
"..."
"Is there family who can take care of you?"
Seoryeong couldn't answer. A sudden, sharp pain shot through her chest.
Wooshin looked at her silently.
"Why?" His voice turned colder. "Didn't you say you have a husband?"
"—!"
"He's not on the family registry. He's not on the emergency contact list either." His jaw tightened. "A husband who doesn't even come to see his injured wife like this... can he really be called a husband?"
He pulled his tie down a little more, visibly annoyed. After trying to regulate his breathing, he spoke again in a more controlled voice.
"The doctor said your gums are bruised. So for a while, you'll have to eat soft food. You might want to cry every time you chew." He paused. "But your lips aren't torn. Your eyes are fine. So why are your gums bruised like that?"
"Ah... about that..."
Seoryeong touched her gums with her tongue. The throbbing numbness spread clearly.
"That... what's it called... the slide? Maybe." She spoke lightly, as if it were nothing. "Back then, there weren't enough hands. So I had a little trouble pulling the trigger. Because of that..."
As soon as the words left her mouth, Wooshin shifted restlessly.
His previously relaxed posture vanished. He sat upright, his gaze locking onto her with sharp intensity.
His brow furrowed—whether from surprise or irritation, it was impossible to tell—as if he were seeing something utterly incomprehensible.