"So you mean... you pulled the slide with your mouth?"
"Yes."
The man stared at her as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.
His face showed genuine shock—an expression she hadn't expected from someone so controlled. His skin was smooth and flawless, a strange contrast to the rough work he must do. His thick, reddish lips opened and closed as if holding back words, though she couldn't tell if it was anger or something else entirely.
Unconsciously, Seoryeong studied his face. It looked almost... *vulnerable*.
"At first, I tried to pull it with my teeth," she explained, her voice matter-of-fact, "but it was too hard. Didn't work. Then I tried pulling with my lips, but that wasn't strong enough either."
"..."
"In the end, I put it in my mouth. Not the barrel, obviously. I just pulled the slide back as if I were... sucking it out." She paused. "The situation was really urgent. I had to try every possible way."
"..."
"And in the end, I hit my gums. That's probably when they got injured."
"If that was done by a beginner and they made even a slight mistake—!"
His voice rose sharply. His index finger pressed against her chin, tilting her face upward.
"You could have been shot right here."
He released her jaw and pressed his temples hard, looking down as if he no longer wanted to speak. The annoyance radiating from him was almost tangible.
"From the beginning—where exactly was your mistake, Miss Seoryeong?"
"What do you mean?"
"Does your husband know about this?" His eyes narrowed. "That you are this careless and foolish?"
"..."
"You're a woman who likes to pretend to be moral. Who feels superior to others."
"Of course he doesn't know."
Seoryeong shrugged indifferently.
The man laughed—bitter, humorless.
"But my husband..." Her voice softened slightly. "He just needs to see my face. He doesn't need to know things like this."
"..."
Seoryeong looked at her injured arm without expression, then spoke in a flat, cold voice—utterly devoid of emotion.
"But don't misunderstand. I didn't risk my life to save Channa."
"—!"
"I just wanted to blame my own husband."
She let the words settle between them.
"I can't accept the thought that there are times when someone *has* to be abandoned. When you told me to leave Channa, I felt like I was being abandoned again." Her jaw tightened. "It was upsetting. But I wanted to prove that my way is right. You're wrong. My husband is also wrong."
A pause.
"And I have to be the only one who's right. So I can get back at everything someday."
Despite wearing worn-out patient clothes—faded cotton, wrinkled from sleep—Seoryeong actually smiled. Contentedly.
"Because of that, everything that happened was planned by me. It's not because I'm kind or anything."
Lee Wooshin chuckled inwardly.
_This woman held Channa's head until she passed out. And now she's explaining her motivations like this?_
"Yeah... you do like to act as if you're more noble than anyone else."
He listened to her words carefully, as if dealing with a stranger. His face reflected clear discomfort—something beyond irritation, closer to wariness.
It was then that Seoryeong spoke more softly, determined to say the words at least once.
"Then... thank you for helping me."
"What?"
"If it weren't for you... I would have died." She met his gaze. "Thank you for the gun. And thank you for finishing everything. When I woke up, everything was already settled, so I was a bit relieved..."
"Can you be quiet for a moment?"
"What?"
"I think that tongue of yours is the root of all problems."
"—!"
"Can you be quiet for a moment?"
He smiled warmly—but his face was full of suppressed fury.
He stepped closer and sat on the edge of Seoryeong's bed.
His cold gaze pierced right through her. The sudden proximity made her freeze. His eyes were empty, hostile, and utterly unreadable.
She could only remain frozen in silence.
"Miss Han Seoryeong." His voice dropped. "Since we've talked this far, how about we settle some accounts?"
"What do you mean..."
"If you don't have to worry about living expenses, you should resign from this company immediately."
"What?"
"Besides, with your current condition, you can't work anyway." His tone was matter-of-fact. "The company will pay you compensation and damages. That's enough for you to rest for at least half a year. Focus on recovering—and never come back to Blast."
He said it without blinking even once.
And as soon as Seoryeong saw his firm gaze, she understood immediately.
This wasn't advice.
**It was an order.**
"This time, I have enough reason to fire you."
"..."
"Because you disobeyed your superior's orders and acted as you pleased, I finally got the chance to get rid of the nuisance that has disgusted me all this time." A thin smile crossed his lips. "Thank you for giving me a reason to say thank you. But looking at your foolish face now, it feels unnecessary to say it again."
He pointed at Seoryeong's bewildered expression.
"You—!"
Seoryeong finally found her voice, the retort rising sharp and hot—
But before she could continue, his large hand gripped her head tightly, fingers digging into her scalp until it stung.
Lee Wooshin stared into her eyes and spoke in a cold tone, one word at a time.
"Don't you remember? When you shot someone with that gun."
Seoryeong's shoulders trembled.
The memory returned in fragments: holding her breath, waiting for a counterattack. Adrenaline surging through her veins. Pulling the trigger without thinking. The shot hitting its target accurately.
All of it was still clearly imprinted in her mind.
Not once had she tried to forget.
"Miss Han Seoryeong. You shot someone as a civilian." His grip on her head didn't loosen. "And you killed."
"..."
"Just because the company covered this up—do you think you can continue living as if nothing happened?"
His cold voice carried the weight of silent judgment.
"But at least, you can still continue living. By considering this a nightmare from last night. But if you continue down this path—you have to stop." His eyes darkened. "This place no longer belongs to you."
The hand that had been gripping her head released—suddenly, carelessly, without any sense of responsibility.
"Even up to this point, you're already quite ruined."
Lee Wooshin rose from the edge of the bed and straightened his tie, which had been loosened during his earlier outburst. His movements reflected the attitude of a leader bearing responsibility—but also a weariness that no longer wished to care.
He walked toward the door with light steps, just as he had come.
"If you were my subordinate, this wouldn't end so easily." His voice carried back to her. "I wouldn't let you go so easily. Let alone explain it kindly. I would make you remember it for the rest of your life."
"..."
"Go back to living as an ordinary person."
He paused at the threshold.
"This is my last act of mercy."
The white mist from the humidifier floated between them like a veil.
"If you can't leave someone without hesitation, then don't enter this world. Don't create anything precious for yourself. Live in a world where taking care of patients is always the safest choice."
"..."
"I need someone who can leave and turn back without a second thought. Someone like you is useless to me." His jaw tightened. "I feel uncomfortable and disturbed every time I see you speak with such a contradictory attitude."
He turned his back while straightening his clothes.
Then—suddenly—he looked over his shoulder with a bright smile, as if ending a pleasant date.
"Then, please don't see me again, okay?"
Seoryeong couldn't say a word.
He just shrugged slightly and walked out of the room.
The door closed behind him with a cold, firm **thud**.
---
Seoryeong sat alone in the recovery room, her face blank.
She couldn't hide the feeling of loss that enveloped her—thick, suffocating, incomprehensible.
She didn't understand what had just come into her life and left so easily.
She dropped her body onto the bed, powerless.
Her eyelids blinked slowly as she stared at the ceiling, body motionless.
Until finally, she began to realize the situation.
"Did I just get fired?"
---
## — Several Days Later —
Several days passed since Seoryeong regained consciousness.
Lee Wooshin never came to see her again.
It seemed that what he had said that day was indeed the only thing he wanted to convey—with such a clear and firm attitude that there was nothing left to add.
The nurse who often checked on her would sometimes say, with a knowing smile: "That handsome man came often when you were still unconscious, you know."
But all Seoryeong felt was the bitter reality.
She had been fired.
The only thing remaining was the sudden loss of her job.
---
Between recovery sessions, Seoryeong visited Channa in the intensive care unit.
Channa lay still like a dead person, not even opening her eyes. Around her stood Jung Pilgyu, his wife, and their small daughter—their faces heavy with grief.
Although Jung Pilgyu looked at Seoryeong with an awkward, confused gaze, she didn't really care.
She just stared at the thick bandage wrapped around Channa's neck for a long time.
Then she left the room.
_That's right. As long as she can survive, that's enough._
_Even if she doesn't wake up now, it doesn't matter._
_As long as she's still alive—that's enough._
_I told you, I won't let you die alone._
Seoryeong walked back down the hospital corridor with a smile she had been hiding all this time.
_You know... I shot that man._
As she remembered the incident, her heart pounded—fast and fierce.
That feeling...
...wasn't too bad at all.