"Choose one—demeaning women or being afraid of them."
Lee Wooshin sat down, making his eye level lower than the others. But the clearly lazy, condescending expression on his face was unmistakable. He looked relaxed enough to swing his legs casually, yet the air around them grew **heavier** with each passing second.
Everyone could feel the openly displayed contempt radiating from him, but no one dared to resist.
This was the power he held.
"Looks like the latter, huh?"
He sighed, shaking his head with a displeased look.
"You're not uncomfortable because there's a woman in the same room. You're uncomfortable because you're afraid your **base instincts**—like monkeys—will make you see her as a target you can approach."
"……"
"Of course, you're scared. Because she's a **mirror** reflecting your own selves." He paused, letting the words sink in. "But the fact that you can't see a colleague as a friend? That's because of your low intelligence and upbringing."
Now he completely abandoned polite speech.
A tense atmosphere enveloped the break room. Everyone looked like they were having trouble breathing. Necks that were initially bowed now turned dark red with shame.
"If you understand, quickly take out your belongings."
As soon as Lee Wooshin stood up, everyone immediately responded with nervous energy. The tension slowly dissipated as he moved through the room—until finally, he stopped directly in front of Seoryeong.
"And what about you?" His tone was sharp. "What do you think?"
Although his voice had been annoyed all along, his gaze now felt **piercing**. The pressure made her clench her fists tightly before finally releasing them again.
"If we separate the rooms, will the problem just be solved?"
He said it while putting his hands in his pockets and leaning forward slightly. His question sounded rhetorical, almost mocking. _Do you think that will solve everything?_
The closer his gaze got, the more it felt like a dark sea rolling in.
"But there are no rooms." He tilted his head. "If you want to use a room, you'll have to stay with the instructors. And now that instructor is standing in front of you."
A thin, mocking smile appeared on his face.
Even though he acted like this toward everyone, for some reason, this felt particularly **hurtful** to Seoryeong.
"You don't have to act like that." Her voice was steady. "I don't need your pity."
"According to your teammates, you'll probably see them changing clothes every day."
"It doesn't matter."
"And you intend to change clothes here too?"
"You yourself said that teammates who see their colleagues as something else have an **intelligence problem**."
"So you'll sleep, shower, and train here too?"
"Yes."
As she answered firmly, Lee Wooshin stood up straight again, casual as ever. However, the mocking smile at the corner of his lips was **very clearly visible**. Their gazes met, creating a strange, inexplicable feeling.
"Alright. Staying here is your decision."
He chuckled mockingly, then took something out of his pocket and threw it toward Seoryeong.
She caught it reflexively—a small knife.
Lee Wooshin glanced around the room with a smirk.
"If any of your colleagues threaten or hurt you, use that **first** before reporting."
"……"
"Remember—don't get the procedure wrong."
His cold and mesmerizing face looked at Seoryeong for a moment before he turned away.
"If anyone dares to cause trouble, get ready to be kicked out." He paused. "Song Ukchan."
"Y-yes, Sir!"
Even without turning his head, his voice alone made Song Ukchan—who had only been glancing lazily—immediately stand up straight as if electrocuted. But what was more striking was that Lee Wooshin didn't look at Song Ukchan at all. He only focused on the pale faces of the other team members, who stood frozen like statues.
"If anything happens when you're together, it's just a matter of who's stronger. There's no other reason."
That was **very clear pressure**.
Seoryeong looked at his broad back while biting her lip. This man had hurt her heart without hesitation, but now he had shattered the tense and conflicted atmosphere in this break room with just a few words.
_Annoying._
Everything about this man felt annoying.
Especially because he could resolve everything so **easily**.
"Blast Company divides security duties into land and sea. So during this training, make sure you strengthen your abilities and endurance."
His words sounded like a farewell, but as he was about to turn the doorknob, the man turned back again.
"Bullying…" He let the word hang in the air. "If you already know what it means, I don't need to explain it."
That sentence made many team members flinch. Their faces clearly grew even paler.
"Listen carefully." His voice dropped lower, colder. "I won't let the people I care about sleep soundly like that."
He smiled faintly, but that smile was filled with a **frigid aura**. His gaze was fixed directly on Seoryeong, as if the challenge was directed at her personally.
At that very moment, Seoryeong felt it.
_This is a declaration of war._
She was sure that the man intended to do everything in his power to make her leave this place.
"If anyone wants to leave, feel free to ring the bell on the training field and go."
His gaze did not leave Seoryeong.
"You are not soldiers forced to come here. No one will lock you up if you run away. And I have no intention of stopping anyone who wants to destroy themselves." He paused. "Understand?"
His words sounded like the most painful mockery.
Seoryeong gritted her teeth and swore inwardly that no matter what happened, she wouldn't let everything go according to this man's wishes.
_Bastard…_
She didn't know how many times she had cursed inwardly today.
---
## — The First Day of Training —
"Haa… haa…"
The training was to run **3 kilometers non-stop**, until she could taste blood in her throat with every breath she took.
Her breathing was ragged. Her heels began to ache from the military boots she wasn't used to wearing. Her lungs felt as if they were being squeezed tightly, like a vice crushing her ribcage.
At the front of the team vehicle carrying all the members, Wooshin sat on the hood without a seatbelt. His expression showed **boredom** as he rested his chin on his fist, watching the team members who were gasping for breath, almost collapsing.
He began to utter cynical words that sounded like curses, without filtering them at all.
"Just running a few kilometers, why are you all like **boiled pigs**?"
"….."
"It's just a few kilometers, you know?"
He looked at the sweat-drenched team members, then smirked.
"If you want to run like this, why not just join a ballet school in the village?"
He slammed the car body hard while shouting.
Once the training started in earnest, Wooshin stopped using polite language entirely. The team members tried to quicken their pace as much as possible, as if exerting the last bit of strength they had left.
Meanwhile, Seoryeong had to clench her teeth tightly to try and close the gap between herself and the group ahead.
"From now on, repeat the instructor's shout: **'I am a defective product!'**"
_Yes… what was harder than the physical training was the constant humiliation._
"I am a defective product…"
"Say it more clearly!"
"I am a defective product!"
"Are you all just quick hands with empty brains, huh? Why are your voices so **weak**…"
"I am a defective product!"
When the team members began to shout with all their might, only then did Wooshin smile.
"Good! Don't forget the introduction you just gave, and remember it well for the rest of your lives."
Wooshin deliberately crushed the team members' confidence. He trampled on their self-esteem without hesitation and didn't shy away from using sharp words to attack them. Sometimes he even hurled **vulgar curses** to break their morale before giving punishment.
There were times when even some members fell before Seoryeong.
_She didn't understand at all._
Why couldn't they handle just being cursed about their parents? What was wrong with them? Actually, their parents might really be as he said. So why cry?
At that moment, Wooshin's gaze fell on Seoryeong, who was struggling to drag her body to catch up with the group.
He raised the red megaphone that covered his face and spoke directly to her.
"Looks like your military boots are too big, huh?"
"No!"
"If you're tired, just stop. There are plenty of men here who can **carry** you."
"……!"
Her forehead immediately furrowed.
Those words, although they sounded like concern, were actually full of **contempt**.
The burning anger forced a sound out of her dry throat.
"I don't need anyone to carry me!"
"Really?" He tilted his head, eyes glinting with amusement. "Then keep up."
Seoryeong gritted her teeth and pushed forward, her legs screaming in protest. Every step felt like dragging weights through mud. Her vision blurred at the edges, sweat stinging her eyes.
But she refused to stop.
_I won't give him the satisfaction._
Behind her, she could hear the ragged breathing of the other recruits. Some were slowing down. Some were stumbling. But she kept her eyes forward, locked on the group ahead.
"Faster!" Wooshin's voice boomed through the megaphone. "If you can't even handle this, you're **useless**!"
The word echoed in her mind.
_Useless._
The same word he'd used back at the gate. The same word he'd been throwing at her since Thailand.
_I'll show you._
Her legs moved faster, driven by pure spite.
"Good," Wooshin said, his voice suddenly softer—almost approving. "That's the look I want to see."
Seoryeong's head snapped up, meeting his gaze.
He was smiling again. That cold, calculating smile.
And she realized, with a sinking feeling in her chest, that he had **planned** this. Every insult. Every provocation. He was testing her. Pushing her. Trying to see how far she could go before she broke.
_Fine._
If he wanted to see her limits, she'd show him.
She'd survive this training.
She'd pass every test.
And she'd make sure he regretted ever underestimating her.