Seoryeong entered the mountains as the first snow began to fall in light flurries.
The cadets, sufficiently rested over the past two days, scattered into the wilderness with survival bags prepared by the instructors. If Hell Week had been a week without sleep, then this final gate—*Catch the Instructor*—was a week of extreme suffering, coupled with the legendary training called **Raw Food Week.**
The most feared aspect of it all: surviving for seven days with only a 500-milliliter bottle of water.
The cadets would have to fight gnawing hunger, eating anything they could find—tree roots, insects, grass—just to stay alive.
"How about we catch an instructor together?" Dong Jiwoo suggested, falling into step beside her. "We're a team. When else will we get a chance to work together?"
"I don't like sharing with anyone."
"You cold bastard—can't you be tolerant just this once?"
"Once will become twice."
Jiwoo continued to grumble, but Seoryeong had no intention of sharing the glory. There was only one instructor she wanted to catch, and dividing that victory felt *ridiculous.*
"They say there might not be any new cadets on the Special Security Team this year," Jiwoo said, her voice dropping.
"Why?"
"Because those instructors are former UDT. Survival training like this is nothing to them…" She sighed. "I think I'll just go after Instructor Jin Hoje. I don't want my body to become target practice for Instructor Lee Wooshin like the others."
"I'm going first."
Seoryeong frowned and turned away without hesitation. After a few steps, she paused and looked back.
"Don't eat random plants just because you're hungry. You'll get diarrhea."
"Hey—!"
*Sorry.*
Seoryeong muttered the word to herself, then pulled her poncho tighter around her shoulders.
Before the final exam had begun, she had done something she wasn't proud of. She'd tampered with the survival bags distributed to each cadet—removing the batteries from their night vision goggles and flashlights. That way, they would be crippled at night, and even if they found an instructor, their response would be slow.
*Sorry. I have to survive too.*
The corner of her lips twitched slightly as she began to climb the mountain, now covered in a thin layer of white.
---
As night fell, the heated shouts of the cadets echoed through the forest like a chaotic chorus.
Seoryeong was busy building a makeshift shelter, using the commotion as background noise. The instructors had set fair conditions: they entered the mountains unarmed, just like the cadets. The only differences were their boot tread patterns and the small bells they wore—ringing clearly with every movement.
Their movement was also restricted to a specific area in the middle of the mountain, creating a fair playing field for capture.
But after **four days** had passed, not a single instructor had been caught.
Seoryeong continued to chase the sound of bells, hoping to find Lee Wooshin—but it always ended in disappointment. Occasionally, some cadets managed to spot his figure and immediately charged—only to be beaten and incapacitated within seconds.
Seoryeong observed all of this from a distance through her binoculars, silent in thought.
*Should I attack in a group?*
---
"Catch him—*aagh*—catch him!"
"Calm down for a second—*aagh!* Hey, you bastards, can't you hear me?!"
"Just get rid of the useless ones!"
"Let go of my hand, you jerk—!"
"Want me to take that Gore-Tex you're wearing?"
The cadets began to turn on each other.
They stole leftover water. Survival bags. Anything that might give them an edge. Those who lost everything were forced to descend the mountain in bitter tears, their dreams of joining the Special Security Team shattered.
The survival bag contained essential items: a knife, a waterproof container with a fire starter, a compass, sunglasses, snare wire, a signal flare, a waterproof lighter, a sleeping bag, a first aid kit, underwear, socks, a folding shovel, and rope. The most valuable items were the waterproof tarp—which could be used as a tent—and the sleeping bag.
The more items you had, the greater your chances of survival.
Over time, this competition evolved into something more brutal than simply capturing instructors. It became a war of attrition. A test of who was willing to go furthest.
At one point, Seoryeong briefly made eye contact through her binoculars with a cadet who seemed to be watching *her.*
"…!"
She immediately ducked down, but her throat felt dry.
Besides hunger and cold, there was now one more thing to be wary of.
---
In just a few days, the relentless snowfall had accumulated so high that every step made her boots sink deeply into white powder.
Every morning, Seoryeong woke up startled—surprised to find the waterproof tarp above her bowed heavily from snowdrifts, pressing down right in front of her face.
Today, as every day, she circled the mountain again, appeasing her hunger with salt and water from her bag. If she found an edible tree root, she would cut it with her knife and chew it until it was mush. If she was lucky enough to find a mushroom, she would test it first—ensuring it wasn't poisonous—before moving on.
"Ha… ha… ha…"
The quiet, desolate snow-covered mountain only reflected the sound of her own breathing.
Alone in that place, chasing someone, she felt a familiar loneliness.
*Rustle—*
Suddenly, the distinct sound of bells—the bells hanging on the instructor's body—jingled not far from her position.
Seoryeong immediately crouched down and strained her ears.
*Should I wait here and then ambush them?*
As she considered it, the bells jingled again—*closer* this time—and she broke into a run.
But the sudden movement made her dizzy. Probably from hunger. Gritting her teeth, Seoryeong kept running, chasing the faint sound like a ghost.
*Why can't I catch you?*
*I just want to catch you, Instructor Lee Wooshin.*
*Or Kim Hyeon…*
*No—Instructor…*
Gasping for breath, she reached an open cliff.
Her face immediately fell.
No one was there.
Only a sharp wind pierced the empty space.
---
## — The Fifth Night —
Even curled up inside her down-filled sleeping bag, Seoryeong's jaw still chattered from the cold.
She hugged the PET bottle filled with her own urine to warm herself and tried to sleep. It was a survival trick she'd learned during orientation—body heat preservation through desperate means.
*How many days had passed?*
Her gloomy feelings made her body shrink further, as if wanting to disappear. She had to move again soon.
*Hopefully, tonight I'll dream of something nostalgic…*
A few hours later, just before dawn, the sound of footsteps crunching on the snow cut through the silence.
Seoryeong's already heightened senses sharpened instantly—perhaps from hunger. *An animal?*
As she opened the tarp, she found a pair of eyes staring back from the shadows.
"…!"
But it wasn't an animal.
She recognized the vacant look in Song Ukchan's eyes and frowned.
"What's wrong?"
Her voice was full of suspicion. It had been a long time since she'd last seen the man, and now Ukchan looked like he had wandered the mountain all night—soaked, with sunken cheeks, his skin waxy and pale.
Song Ukchan staggered for a moment.
Then, without a word, he pulled back the tarp and crawled into her shelter.
"Hey—!"
Seoryeong shouted angrily, but Ukchan acted like a wild animal, collapsing on top of her.
"Ugh…!"
He snuggled closer, seeking warmth, his movements so rough they felt like an assault. His frozen limbs pressed against her body, and his weight pinned her down.
"Song Ukchan, wake up and get off!"
But he didn't seem to understand.
He just gripped Seoryeong tighter and tried to pull at the layers of clothing she was wearing.
"Are you *crazy?*"
Seoryeong yelled, her voice loud enough to echo through the trees. Their eyes met, and Ukchan paused for a moment. He blinked slowly, looked around, then shook his head like someone confused.
Up close, his eyes looked dark and hollow. Empty in a way that made her stomach clench.
He furrowed his brow—and then hugged Seoryeong again, pulling her close.
"I've wanted to do this since the first time I saw you."
"…!"
"Your eyes…" His voice slurred, thick and strange. "Damn… they excite me so much."
He sounded drunk. Delirious.
Seoryeong knew that hunger could make someone lose control—could strip away the thin veneer of civilization that kept people human. But she hadn't expected Song Ukchan to ruin everything *here.* Not like this.
Swallowing an inexplicable surge of anger, Seoryeong slammed her knee upward into his body.
But Song Ukchan just bit her pale neck as if feeling nothing.
*Ugh…!*
His ice-cold fingers began to creep up her exposed skin.
"What… did you eat in these mountains?"
"…"
"**Wake up, you bastard!**"
Even though she slapped his face repeatedly, Ukchan's gaze remained vacant. The tarp beneath them rustled, and the snow continued to fall silently outside.
---
**_—Importantly, don't think a big guy can easily take you down._**
Lee Wooshin's sharp voice flashed through her head like lightning.
**_In an emergency, use anything you have—a pen, a finger—and stab them._**
She remembered how the Instructor had demonstrated how to accurately strike the jaw, solar plexus, neck, and abdomen. The movements were still fresh in her memory—burned into her muscle memory through endless repetition.
Ukchan's rough hand reached her bra.
Even though she had prepared herself, the cold, rough touch still made her body shiver. But her mind remained clear. *Cold.* Calculating.
With a calm face, Seoryeong quietly took out the knife hidden in her sleeping bag.
Without hesitation, she elbowed Ukchan's jaw—*hard*—and stabbed his thick thigh.
"Argh—*ugh*…!"
---
*A bad deed attracts attention.*
*Blood is the best bait to lure prey.*
The thought surfaced unbidden—familiar, like something she had known for a long time.
She recalled colder and hungrier days in a foreign land. A place where children's cries were swallowed by blizzards. Where survival wasn't a training exercise but a daily reality.
Those memories flashed like a signal flare.
But…
*Where was that place?*
Seoryeong shook her head slightly, trying to clear her mind of the sudden familiarity. The images felt *real*—more real than dreams, more vivid than imagination. But they didn't belong to any life she remembered living.
She rolled to the side despite the pain in her head, then stabbed Song Ukchan's leg once more—this time the back of his thigh.
*Good.*
*This will work.*
With more blood, she could request evacuation from the instructors. They would come to investigate. They would *have* to.
Hiding her dark thoughts behind a neutral expression, Seoryeong calmly straightened her clothes.