**Bang, bang—!**
Each time a bullet was fired, the rifle butt slammed into her shoulder, sending a sharp pain radiating through her.
Despite aiming carefully, her shots kept missing the target.
Seoryeong pushed away her chaotic thoughts and pulled her elbow back again.
The wooden target moved erratically on the metal rail—changing direction and speed at random.
> **TACTICAL SHOOTING TRAINING**
> **Second Special Response Team — Immediate Response Training**
She couldn't let her breathing falter.
Her brow furrowed, Seoryeong tried to regulate her uneven breaths. She aimed again.
The tremor in her hands began to subside, and her eyes started to follow the chaotic movement of the targets.
_Wait—what exactly is going on with my marriage?_
_How did I even start dating Hyeon?_
_Our relationship was calm. We even built a family together._
_So why am I so... shaken by just a kiss?_
_Haven't I already 'graduated' from that sort of thing?_
**Bang—!**
She managed to hit one target accurately.
"Haaah...!"
As she began to lower the rifle, a loud voice shouted at her from a distance.
"Han Seoryeong, **focus**!"
A paintball bullet struck her back and exploded upon impact.
Her tight tactical suit instantly became soaked with red paint. At the same time, fragments from a retaliatory shot whizzed past her hair.
Lee Wooshin glared at her, his face full of anger.
"Why did you lower your weapon before the training was over?"
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize to **me**. Apologize to yourself—you were just 'killed' by a paintball."
"..."
"Get your focus back."
_Seriously?_
_The same person who, just a few hours ago, thrust his tongue into my mouth like crazy—is now telling me to focus?_
Seoryeong glared at him, suppressing her annoyance.
_As if he's the only one having trouble focusing._
How could someone who had just crossed the line with a married woman so quickly revert to being **professional**?
Gritting her teeth, she resumed her stance.
For Seoryeong, the most difficult part was controlling the AK while aiming at the constantly moving targets. Paintball bullets and smoke grenades from various directions further disrupted her concentration.
The other shooters moved quickly and efficiently—but she was still lagging behind.
Every time she misloaded a round or got hit by a paintball, she could feel his sharp gaze piercing her.
"Someone like Han Seoryeong, who is careless when handling a weapon, is the main cause of firearm accidents."
"So that's why you gave me a pistol?"
The man's stern expression suddenly softened.
He swept his hair back, looking at the training field as if feeling suffocated.
And at that moment, the red mark on his forehead was clearly visible—the result of being hit by the pistol earlier.
Seoryeong glanced at the mark briefly, then quickly turned her face away.
Just seeing it immediately reminded her of his tongue—moving roughly inside her mouth. The way it pressed deeply into her cheek, making her mouth bulge as if filled with candy.
And that **heat**... how he suddenly melted within her mouth.
_Stop. Don't think about it._
The back of her neck began to feel hot.
Noticing her reaction, Wooshin's eyes narrowed slightly.
He seemed about to speak—but then closed his mouth again. Whatever he wanted to say, he swallowed it back, his eyebrows furrowing as if he had just tasted something too sweet.
A faint smile still lingered in his gaze, but his lips tightened into a cold line.
"If your weapon malfunctions, it can fire on its own without you pulling the trigger. If you were unlucky just now, your leg would have a hole in it."
He paused.
"Don't make my heart stop—be more careful."
"...!"
It was such a stark contrast to the man who used to only smile faintly, barely lifting the corners of his lips.
The empty gazes of her colleagues had long been piercing her cheek. They kept glancing at Seoryeong's swollen lips, then clearing their throats awkwardly and leaving one by one.
Frustrated, she wiped her forehead.
_This is not good for team morale._
The Special Security Team was undergoing weeks of intense training for armed escort on ships and CQB (Close Quarters Battle), without a moment's rest. The tight schedule was designed to synchronize their every move to the exact second—for an important mission in Africa.
_But at a time like this?_
_Ugh!_
Whether consciously or not, Lee Wooshin approached her from behind.
Just as she was about to turn around, he simply said curtly:
"Face forward."
He wrapped his arms around her, correcting the way Seoryeong was holding the weapon.
His firm chest touched her shoulder blades, and his heavy jaw rested lightly behind her head.
"...!"
Bending down to align with her, Lee Wooshin stabilized her wrists and forearms. His steady breath and short hair brushed against Seoryeong's cheek.
_Too close._
But before she could react, his voice whispered firmly in her ear.
"Is this rifle difficult for you?"
"...Yes."
"I thought you'd be better suited with an AK-47 than a pistol, considering its length and weight."
"What do you mean—"
"Try detaching the magazine."
The tense Seoryeong moved clumsily. Wooshin just watched her silently—until suddenly a target appeared in her blind spot.
In an instant, his hands covered hers.
With a swift and decisive movement, he inserted the magazine, pulled the bolt forward, and fired at the approaching target.
The recoil was so strong that their bodies shook together.
"Never shoot at something if you can't handle the consequences."
"...!"
His voice sounded faint, slipping through her still-ringing ears.
"If you don't kill them completely, then deal with them until the **end**. There are only those two options."
The steady rhythm of his heartbeat resonated against Seoryeong's back, which was pressed against his body.
"That's the rule for people like us."
As soon as the warmth from his arms and shoulders faded, Seoryeong finally felt like she could breathe again—like someone who had just surfaced from underwater.
She glanced briefly at Lee Wooshin, who was now briefing the other members, then shook her head vigorously.
_Focus!_
The more she thought, the more she gritted her teeth about the Deputy Director's kidnapping case.
_That is the only thing keeping me sharp._
Whatever Lee Wooshin did—Kim Hyeon was **hers**.
One thing she would never let go of.
---
## — After Training —
"Why are your lips like that? Did you eat something strange?"
After two hours of training, the team members were soaked in sweat. Each carried a sports towel around their neck as they left the training field.
Ki Taemin broke the awkward silence with a blunt question.
"An allergy, maybe?"
The other shooters exchanged glances and then looked at Seoryeong with unpleasant expressions.
And she was clearly **aware** of it.
"Your lips are really swollen..."
"Oh dear. This perfectionist's field skills are only half-baked, huh..."
Ki Taemin bent down, as if genuinely worried, looking at Seoryeong's red and swollen lips—while Jin Hoje, holding his friend's head, sighed for some unknown reason.
He muttered softly:
"Damn... his hands are so **fast**..."
He threw a towel over his wet face.
Every time their eyes met, a gloomy expression appeared.
But Seoryeong chose to ignore it.
_I would rather die than engage in a conversation that might force me to give a half-hearted excuse._
Besides, she really had no reasonable explanation.
_"I was holding the gun so I couldn't push him away—maybe it was out of fear that the gun would go off. Looks like I'm kinder than I thought."_
Forget it.
Seoryeong bit her swollen lip harder.
If she couldn't even convince herself, then it wasn't an excuse.
She preferred to act indifferent—like Yoo Dawit, who chewed on a hair tie in her mouth while whistling casually.
As they walked towards the washroom, a group of people suddenly appeared from a long corridor.
A door opened from a wall that had previously appeared plain, and a group of team members who looked **refreshed** came out one by one.
Seoryeong blinked rapidly and stared at the sliding door that closed silently again.
"What is that place?" she asked.
Ki Taemin, who was standing nearby, seemed hesitant. Clearly, he didn't want to answer.
"Senior?"
"It's just an injection room. You don't need to worry about it, Han Seoryeong."
"Injection room?"
Seoryeong cut in quickly, her eyes widening.
"Is that where they get **drugs**?"
She suddenly remembered something Lee Wooshin had once said. About the company's trainer preparing various substances—and from his tone at the time, it was clearly **not** legal medication he was referring to.
Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the uncomfortable look on Ki Taemin's face.
"Some people get tired easily. Irritable. Have trouble sleeping. That's still normal. But many of them are starting to go in there for 'milk shots' instead of sleeping pills."
He looked at her seriously.
"Don't interfere. Those who go there too often usually don't last long here."
"Milk shots?"
"**Propofol**. A type of anesthesia. It makes them feel like they sleep deeply and feel refreshed. But it's quickly addictive."
She knew exactly what propofol was.
One injection, and within five to ten seconds you'd pass out. Ten minutes later, you'd wake up.
"Just put an ice pack on your lips. And don't even **try** to go in there."
"Yes, I'll stay away."
Seoryeong replied.
_But whatever happens, I will definitely investigate it._
Seoryeong nodded as if obedient—but her gaze remained fixed on the part of the wall she wouldn't have suspected was a door, if not for the thin gap she had seen earlier.
---
A memory surfaced.
A cold voice from her past.
_"Do you want to lose your sight again?"_
The NIS officer who knew everything about Kim Hyeon. His threatening tone at the time had convinced her that he knew her entire life story.
And she knew...
Their next meeting wouldn't be long.