The steps that had previously led her to the police station every day now ceased completely.
It was time to find another way.
Following the advice of the priest who, with a compassionate face, said this might be "God's will," she photographed the leaflet with her camera and had it read aloud through a voice application.
That was how she arrived at this place.
"So, can we start with the story about the neighbors? Tell me everything you remember."
Seoryeong furrowed her brow.
This was indeed a different approach.
"Has it ever occurred to you that that bastard—ah, I mean, your husband and those neighbors might be one group?"
He looked to be in his early twenties at most. Clearing his throat, he reflexively corrected his speech, and the scent of sweet pastries mixed with cigarette smoke wafted over.
_His hair is short, huh?_
Seoryeong narrowed her eyes. Indeed, her vision was gradually becoming clearer.
"It looks like they were acting in an organized manner, as if there were orders from above. Whether it's a multi-level marketing scheme or a hidden network… The bottom line is, it's as if they wanted to suck everything out of you. There must be someone behind all this. But who, and where did they come from…"
The sound of a keyboard clattered loudly.
All she remembered about the neighbors were a few names, workplaces, and schools. She began to list everything that came to mind, without any order.
Unable to rely on her sight, Seoryeong had to remember in other ways. For example, the sound of footsteps, smells, voices, even everyday small talk.
She strained all her memories and conveyed the information to the agent.
"Alright then, let me stir up those neighbors…!"
Exactly a week later, a call came from him.
> "What kind of **demon** did you actually live with?"
The voice on the other end sounded like someone who had completely lost their mind.
"Hey, hey! Your dialect…!"
Then a fierce shout was heard in the background.
---
"Ma'am… customer…"
The sofa remained as hard as before.
The agent she met again after a week still carried the same scent of pastries and cigarettes. Beside him stood a middle-aged man with a serious face, arms folded, and eyes fixed sharply on Seoryeong.
From the agent's respectful expression, as well as the man's plump body and bald head, Seoryeong could guess his age.
Indeed, she could now see more clearly. If before the world was like a lump of fog, now it was like a window that hadn't been fully wiped—still blurry, but shapes could be recognized.
"Hello, Miss Han Seoryeong."
The man unfolded his arms and greeted her.
"I'm Jung Pilgyu, the head of the information analysis team from Blast Company."
_Blast…?_
Such a grand name for a small service like this?
Seoryeong frowned, and the man, as if understanding, patted the head of the female agent.
"It might sound unfamiliar, but Blast is a civilian military company. We provide military services in overseas conflict zones, with government permission."
For Seoryeong, who had worked as a caregiver for the elderly since she was twenty, it sounded like a story from another world.
"This service branch is a small business run by our team. We usually use it to train staff… or to impose sanctions."
The man looked at the young agent named Heo Channa with a hardened jaw.
"That's enough for introductions. Miss Han Seoryeong."
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry, but it seems we cannot accept your request."
The rejection sounded polite but firm.
Seoryeong remained silent, while Channa, who actually looked more agitated, suddenly raised her voice.
"Sir!" she said angrily, then turned her face away in annoyance.
She took several heavy breaths and looked at Seoryeong with blazing eyes.
"Most of those neighbor names are **fake**! Their schools and workplaces are all lies! But not everything is fake. I mean, not everything. I think that bastard didn't expect me to investigate all the way to the neighbors' personal data!"
"Channa! Please… the dialect!"
Even though Jung Pilgyu patted her back, the girl's fighting spirit didn't diminish in the slightest.
"Remember the long-haired guy who said he lived with his dog? Everything else was fake, but the dog's name was **real**!"
Seoryeong's eyebrows rose at the unexpected clue.
"When we tracked the dog's name at the animal hospital, it was an hour and a half away from your house. That alone felt suspicious. And on his medical records, the owner's name was different—Madam Kim Yeonmi, 67 years old."
"..."
"So we pulled all of Kim Yeonmi's credit card purchase data for the last five years. And wow—we were all so naive, weren't we!"
She exclaimed cynically, then took a long breath.
"We found this."
At the same time, Channa nudged the bald man.
The man, who had been scratching his head with a desperate expression ever since hearing the girl's northern dialect, finally gave up and handed over a tablet with an annoyed look.
But since Seoryeong gave no reaction, Channa immediately read the contents of the evidence:
> "Grade 9 exam questions for the NIS, basic NIAT NIS module, advanced module, high-level module, and written exam preparation materials for the National Intelligence Service."
"...!"
Seoryeong froze on the spot.
It was a story she had never expected.
Jung Pilgyu rubbed his face with dry hands like a tired man, then spoke again.
"Madam Kim Yeonmi has one son. The documents say he's a publishing employee, but field agents usually disguise themselves in such professions."
"..."
"To put it simply, if that son actually passed the NIS exam and was assigned around you as a field agent… then this isn't about fraud or an MLM scheme."
Seoryeong's dry lips trembled slightly.
"He might be an NIS agent. For now, we can't help but consider that possibility."
"Then, my husband…"
Her hands began to tremble subtly.
But at this point, it was no longer about being surprised. Finally, at the end of that long tunnel, she saw a glimmer of light.
After weeks of only receiving vague answers like _'cannot be found,'_ _'just go home,'_ or _'you were scammed'_—now, something real finally felt within her grasp.
She clutched the hem of her shirt tightly.
_This was a clear step forward._
She was truly beginning to approach the truth about Kim Hyeon.
_If only she could know who that man really was…!_
"But, Miss Han Seoryeong… who exactly **are** you?"
Jung Pilgyu's tone suddenly turned cold.
The attack felt direct, causing Seoryeong to stiffen with a troubled expression.
"Making a woman look like she's gone crazy, then just disappearing. Buying up the entire villa building, controlling the area within a 200-meter radius so there are no witnesses. This isn't a normal operation, and it's not done by just any agent."
"..."
"Besides, you dated for 6 months, married for 2 years. This is clearly not normal. Frankly, you lived on a meticulously designed **stage set**. The way they controlled everything is truly beyond common sense. Unless this was indeed a scenario created by a government agency…"
"..."
"Can you start to imagine it now?"
He picked up a glass of water from the table and took a deep gulp, as if his throat was burning.
But Seoryeong really knew nothing.
She grew up in an orphanage, living independently earlier than most after being thrown into society at a young age. She had joined the gymnastics club in school but was kicked out. She failed to get into university. Now, even her marriage had failed.
She lived because she had to live, and her days felt dull.
_What was so special about such a life…?_
She did fight often as a child, but that was just about personality. It was she who wanted to ask—how could someone make her dependent on him to the point where she couldn't live a day without her husband, then destroy her world and just leave?
_Was there really such a big reason… that could justify everything?_
"The one who approached you was a **black agent**."
"…Black… agent?"
Her heart seemed to plummet.
She immediately knew this wasn't good. The tips of her fingers felt cold.
"Haah… In the intelligence world, sometimes we have to rely on instinct. And this… this is a strange feeling that I've only experienced once during my service."
"..."
"That's why we can't handle this case. Frankly… it's beyond our capacity."
Jung Pilgyu let out a heavy sigh.
"He will **never** be found."
"..."
It was like being handed a death sentence.
That sentence—_'will never be found'_—was so absolute that it locked her jaw tight.
In her heart, she wanted to grab the glass and throw it with all her might. But her body couldn't even move a single finger. Her knees had gone weak. Her eyelids trembled, no longer under her control.
"Besides the highest officials in the NIS, no one knows the identity of a black agent. When they are assigned overseas, they become real spies. If their identity is leaked, the country won't acknowledge them. They could be imprisoned, even sentenced to death there."
"..."
"Therefore, you will never be able to find him."
Silence filled the room.
Her ears were ringing.
She didn't know how long she stood there silently, as if time itself had slowed down. She only listened to the man's voice, words that felt like waves crashing in her head.
"We also traced Kim Yeonmi's son," the man continued.
"But his trail has already gone cold. Maybe because he finished his 'mission' with you a long time ago, he received an award or something…"
Seoryeong's chest began to rise and fall rapidly.
The urge to silence the man grew stronger.
"Just think of it as being bitten by a rabid dog," Jung Pilgyu said softly.
"Just forget about it. Giving up is better for your personal safety."