"...Who are you?"
Kim Hyeon's voice turned sharp—tense and clearly displeased by the rude intrusion of the man on the other end.
Seoryeong stood frozen, her mouth hanging open in shock.
_What... what is happening?_
Her brain refused to process it. Her eyes felt stiff, as if her mind was rejecting the reality unfolding before her.
Meanwhile, Lee Wooshin remained utterly calm as he faced the voice of Kim Hyeon.
"A rotten con artist like this—who does he think he is, talking so carelessly?"
Silence on the other end.
"Tell her you regret leaving. Tell her you were serious about the marriage."
Wooshin sneered, leaning casually against the dining table. His shoulders shifted slightly, as if containing something volatile beneath the surface. The same man who had just tortured someone with cooking oil while dressed in a clean suit now wiped his oily hands on a dish towel with infuriating nonchalance.
"Love her? Of course."
A dry, humorless laugh escaped his lips.
His head was bowed. His breathing sounded heavy—like he was suppressing nausea rising from deep within. He pressed the phone screen in his palm as though trying to **strangle** the life out of it.
"It's funny... how easily those words come out of your mouth."
"Seoryeong, are you there? Who is this person?"
Her husband's quiet voice broke through her stupor like a crack of thunder.
Seoryeong jolted back to awareness, her gaze snapping away from Wooshin. Everything had veered wildly off course from the original plan. But she knew—even in this chaos—she still had to take control.
As she stepped slowly toward the table, a greasy hand suddenly clamped around her wrist.
"Yes. Your Seoryeong is here. **By my side.** So—what do you want?"
"...!"
His gaze was sharp, cold, commanding.
_Don't interfere._
The silent order radiated from his eyes like heat.
But—**what the hell was this?**
He was the one who had barged in uninvited. The one who had ruined the entire plan. And now he was acting like **he** was in charge?
_How did everything turn around like this?_
"Go ahead. Keep talking. Add more—come on."
Silence.
"Still remember her skin?" Wooshin's voice dripped with venom. "Where did you get that cheap line? Homemade, or did someone help you write it? Pathetic."
He leaned forward slightly, his tone sharpening into a blade.
"Gaslighting—is that all your ability amounts to? Someone 'in power'?"
"...Stop interfering. This is an important conversation."
"Important my **ass**?!" Wooshin's voice exploded, loud enough to make Seoryeong flinch. "You think you can talk after making her look like **this**?!"
The call that had begun with longing had devolved into a battlefield.
Seoryeong's mind went blank.
"You can talk all you want—but it will **never** change the fact that Han Seoryeong is amazing."
Silence.
"Whatever. Just stay there, sitting and sucking your thumb."
"Excuse me," the voice on the phone said, measured and cold now, "but could you please step aside? Who are you to interfere in a married couple's affairs? This is between me and Seoryeong."
"...!"
Wooshin—who had been retorting without pause—suddenly fell silent.
His jaw clenched like a street thug who had just realized something dangerous.
The unnatural silence sent goosebumps rippling across Seoryeong's skin. Her instincts screamed a warning. Her gaze darted involuntarily toward the empty oil bottle lying on the floor.
Even the voice on the other end seemed to have lost its composure.
Wooshin looked up, staring at the ceiling as he took a long, deliberate breath. His broad chest rose and fell, the motion sharp and visible.
"You're the one who left her and ran away, right?" His voice was low now—dangerous. "So you think your relationship is still worth calling a **couple**?"
"Please give Seoryeong back. If this continues, I can sue you for obstructing justice."
"Funny you're talking about law after **breaking into a woman's house**."
"I repeat—if you're not part of this, **step aside**."
"Who said I'm not part of this?"
Wooshin's gaze shifted to Seoryeong.
He tilted his head slightly, as if weighing something, then smiled faintly—his characteristic nonchalant arrogance sliding back into place like a mask.
"Doesn't it look like I've already filled your empty space tonight?"
"...!"
Seoryeong yanked her wrist free, nearly scratching him in the process—but Wooshin just chuckled, standing tall and immovable like a pillar planted deep in the ground.
"If it's a matter of the heart, then it's **our** business too. Isn't that right, dear husband?"
Silence.
---
_It's over._
The game had completely collapsed.
Seoryeong stood frozen, unable to breathe from the weight of the shock. Her head felt unbearably hot. Her eyes burned dry from the pressure building behind them.
She pressed a hand to her forehead, glaring sharply at Wooshin—the man who had destroyed everything she had carefully built.
_When did it all start to go wrong?_
When the Instructor found the cooking oil?
No—maybe when Kim Hyeon started spouting that manipulative nonsense.
Or... actually, it was the moment that doorbell rang.
She closed her eyes tightly, suppressing the frustration surging through her veins. She didn't even know who to be angry at anymore.
And all of this had happened **in front of Kim Hyeon**—with **this man** of all people.
Her cold gaze shifted from the phone to Lee Wooshin.
There was nothing left to salvage.
In that case...
_Maybe it would be better to sacrifice the flesh to get the bone._
Her gaze hardened—calculating, sharp—fixed on Lee Wooshin.
"There's an old saying," the voice on the phone said smoothly. "'Even an owl's voice sounds sweet to its own ears.'"
"...!"
Lee Wooshin's face hardened instantly.
"It means that even an owl's voice—which most consider disturbing—sounds beautiful to itself. This proverb is aimed at people who overestimate themselves without being aware of their own weaknesses."
A pause.
"You should also be careful."
"..."
"Please give Seoryeong back."
The metaphor about the owl was strange—sudden—but the intent was clear: a warning for Lee Wooshin to stop talking carelessly about marital affairs.
Amidst the awkward tension, Seoryeong blinked—and felt the grip on her wrist tighten even further.
She looked at Wooshin.
The veins in his jaw jutted out like roots. His lips curled into a sinister sneer.
Without thinking, her mouth moved.
"5632... 2321... 5483—"
She recited the 21-digit Macau account number quickly, then bit her lip hard afterward.
_Retreat is part of the strategy._
She hid the chaos of her thoughts, swallowing the boiling anger threatening to spill over.
She **knew**.
From the beginning, something had been off about Kim Hyeon today. She could feel it—especially in the way he had **blamed her** for what happened.
Even the night before he disappeared, his attitude had been strange. Rough. **Detached**—even when they slept together.
That wasn't normal.
_Then... how could I have ever truly known who Kim Hyeon was?_
From now on, she would have to piece him back together—like picking up breadcrumbs scattered across a street.
That was why she stayed silent now.
She just listened.
The sweet illusion that Kim Hyeon would always be good—in every situation—began to crack.
He was also... just an agent. Someone skilled at acting depending on the circumstances.
And today, Seoryeong accepted that bitter reality.
_What was it that I actually loved about Kim Hyeon all this time?_
Empty.
Fear and emptiness filled the hollow space where certainty used to be.
_Maybe the price of loving an illusion is to keep wandering, lost in an endless fog._
"See you again."
_Don't die._
Her lips moved soundlessly a few more times before she ended the call—fleeing from the weight of it all.
Her strength felt completely drained.
She closed her eyes, letting her husband's still-warm voice linger in her memory one last time.
But what mattered now was **what happened next**.
---
She told the agents to leave—men who didn't seem to possess even a shred of sanity.
After the chaos evaporated, the room fell silent.
And in that silence—
Seoryeong **slapped** Lee Wooshin across the face.
"—!"
His eyebrows twitched. But his head didn't move. Not even slightly.
"Do you know what you just did, Instructor?" Her voice shook with fury. "I won't apologize."
Her expression was raw—like someone who had just lost something precious.
"He was my **husband**! And you—what right did you have to interfere in that?!"
Wooshin licked the corner of his lips slowly, as if only just beginning to register the sting.
"Still talking about your husband after hearing all that **nonsense**?"
He laughed—cold and humorless.
"When you came to Blast Agency, what did you say? Didn't **you** ask me to help you destroy that bastard?" His eyes gleamed. "Well then—consider it an employee bonus. And be quiet. Someone here has already made my blood pressure rise."
He glared sharply at her.
It was only then that she noticed—Wooshin hadn't even taken off his shoes when he came in. His tracks dirtied the floor.
With wide, deliberate steps, he started heading for the door.
_After embarrassing me like that, you're just going to leave?_
Watching his retreating back, panic seized her.
_No way._
She immediately chased after him.
But just as Wooshin reached for the door handle, he turned around abruptly—cursing softly under his breath. His neck trembled as he spoke.
"You're quite sharp at judging people, Seoryeong. So answer me—are you **really** sure that idiot was your husband?"
"...!"
"You're willing to go through all this just to find someone like **him**?"
"I don't know."
"What?"
"I said I **don't know**."
Her face was blank—empty.
Wooshin narrowed his eyes, studying her intently.
"I have absolutely no idea who my husband really is. Or what kind of person he is underneath it all." Her voice cracked slightly. "That's why I'm like this."
It was the same reason she had given Channa and Pilgyu to get them to help her—but this time, the words cut deeper.
"My husband... he's a black ops agent for the National Intelligence Service. That call just confirmed it."
There was something painful in revealing that personal secret to Lee Wooshin. But he was also a man who had failed in marriage. The shame passed quickly.
Fortunately, Wooshin didn't speak. His face only twitched slightly.
"I was tricked into marrying him from the start. And then he just **disappeared**. I was kept blind for years because of his people's actions. I don't know why." She swallowed hard. "But what's clear is—I **have** to find him. Whether to interrogate him... or whatever comes after."
Lee Wooshin stood silently, towering over her.
"They said no one would be able to find him. That I should give up—because it's impossible for someone like me. An ordinary person with no skills. Black ops agents don't leave traces. Not a single hair. Not even a shadow to follow."
"..."
"But today... for the **first time**, I managed to contact him!"
Her breath hitched. Her body tensed with the weight of surging emotion.
"You still don't understand? I could have talked more. I could have dug deeper. But **you**—you ruined that perfect opportunity, Instructor!"
"So—"
Lee Wooshin threw his jacket aside and asked in a voice cold as winter steel:
"So you were just going to sit there quietly and listen to that nonsense about how you can't be loved without him?"
"You said you can't accept love unless it's from **him**. And if I hadn't come, you would have just sat there—listening to all his **bullshit**?"
"...!"
"Seoryeong."
His gaze was sharp enough to draw blood.
"In that case, you'd suck that guy's dick all day long if he told you to."