"Ugh…"
At the sound of a soft groan, Seoryeong leaned down and studied Deputy Joo's face, observing every twitch and flutter of consciousness returning.
_So this is what her face looks like up close._
The deputy's eyes began to move slowly behind her eyelids, tracking something in a dream or fighting against the sedative's grip. Joo Seolheon, who had been lying motionless as a corpse on the emergency stretcher, frowned slightly—then opened her eyes.
Seoryeong greeted her with a bright, pleasant smile.
"You're awake?"
"…!"
The whites of her eyes were bloodshot—probably from the tear gas earlier. Joo Seolheon tried to move, but her bound limbs wouldn't budge against the Velcro restraints. Seoryeong, as if she had been waiting for precisely this moment, used her fingers to hold the woman's eyelids open and poured sterile saline solution directly into them.
"Ugh! What are you doing?!"
Seoryeong shook her head gently, letting out a low, almost sympathetic sigh.
"Just water. Your eyes look irritated."
"Ugh!"
"If tear gas residue stays in your eyes too long, it can cause temporary blindness." Her tone was matter-of-fact. Clinical. "I'm rinsing them just in case. Be quiet."
Her soft voice seemed to match the crisp white blouse she wore—professional, composed, almost nurturing. But her grip on the deputy's jaw told a different story entirely. Seoryeong pulled back the woman's eyelids again and poured more solution, watching her own cold reflection appear in those bloodshot eyes.
"Blink."
Under that strange, implacable pressure, the deputy blinked slowly and looked around the cramped space. When she saw the outdated vital signs monitor, the scuffed defibrillator, and the analog blood pressure gauge mounted on the wall, she finally asked in a surprised tone:
"Where… where are we going?"
"You tell us, Deputy." Seoryeong's smile didn't waver. "We're going to where Hyeon is."
"…"
"If you stay quiet, this ambulance won't stop."
"…"
"And neither will I."
Seoryeong tore open the sterile packaging of a disposable syringe with her teeth and grabbed the deputy's hand, spreading the fingers flat against the stretcher rail. At the same moment, a sharp shriek filled the ambulance as she drove the needle directly **under** Deputy Joo's fingernail.
The anatomy was simple: if she applied leverage now, the nail would separate from the bed entirely.
Deputy Joo knew that all too well. She glared upward with pure hatred, grinding her teeth against the pain.
"**You—!**"
"If you treat people like blind fools," Seoryeong said in a low, suppressed voice, pushing the needle deeper with deliberate slowness, "you deserve to feel what blindness is really like."
"Ugh!"
Lee Wooshin watched everything unfold through the rearview mirror, his expression carefully neutral. _Did I teach her this well?_ The thought flickered through his mind, but then he recalled the information Na Wonchang had shared—the psychological evaluations describing Seoryeong's bold, fearless nature. The documented lack of normal empathic response.
_No. This isn't training. This is something that was always there._
He casually turned the steering wheel to merge into a faster lane and pressed the radio button. A cheerful pop song—perfect for highway driving—began to play, filling the ambulance with absurd contrast.
"Where is Kim Hyeon?"
Seoryeong asked, tearing open the packaging of a second syringe without looking up.
"You thought I was lacking something, so you inserted people into every corner of my life—from my husband to my classmates in training. But no matter how much I try to remember, I'm just an orphan. A dropout. Someone who only ever tried to be a **good person.**"
"…"
"Even if Kim Hyeon was just a fake husband you assigned to me, to **me**, he was a real partner. I believed that for two and a half years." Her voice cracked slightly. "And as you can see, my life is now completely ruined."
"…!"
"I didn't want to live like this either. But look at me now—holding a syringe and stabbing you under your fingernails, Deputy."
"…"
"So tell me." Her eyes burned. "Why did you send him to me? Why did you do that…!"
Joo Seolheon's usually expressionless face showed a flicker of something—her eyelashes trembling almost imperceptibly.
"**Why did you send someone so good, and then take him back?!**"
Seoryeong's fragile neck strained with the force of her emotion. This was the first time since her husband's disappearance that she had truly **blamed** someone out loud. Although some of her rage seemed to release with the words, it didn't make her feel any better. With bloodshot eyes, she shouted again:
"**Who are you to destroy my family and mess with my breathing?!**"
"…"
Deputy Joo remained silent.
The lack of any response made Seoryeong grind her teeth even harder, frustration and fury coiling tighter in her chest.
"If you don't want to talk, let's just end it here." Her voice dropped to something dangerous. "At least be a place for me to vent my anger."
"**Aaah—!**"
The fingernail came off with a wet, tearing sound. Joo Seolheon was salivating now—not from the tear gas, but from pure, overwhelming pain. Seoryeong pressed hard on the bleeding nail bed with her thumb and inserted the second needle into the adjacent finger without hesitation.
Although her face contorted in agony, Joo Seolheon instead let out a bitter, ragged laugh.
"Your family?"
Her voice was mocking. Contemptuous.
"Why do you think that was **your** family? It was **my** creation."
"…!"
Seoryeong froze on the spot, staring at the sneering woman as if the words hadn't fully registered.
"You really want to know the truth?"
Joo Seolheon's voice was hoarse, damaged from the tear gas and the screaming, but her tone carried unmistakable satisfaction.
"You still don't understand what you've been through. Your entire marriage was **recorded** in reports and sent to my superiors—what you ate three times a day, how you prepared it, what topics you discussed at dinner."
"…"
"Even how often you had **relations** each month."
Seoryeong felt a tightness in her chest, as if all the air had been sucked from the ambulance. The pop song on the radio suddenly cut off, leaving total silence except for the hum of the engine and the blood pounding in her ears.
"Falling in love with Kim Hyeon wasn't fate or coincidence. It was **all** part of my plan. Part of the orchestration I arranged years before you even met him."
"…"
"You weren't living a marriage, Han Seoryeong." A cruel smile. "You were **playing a role.**"
**Screech—**
The ambulance lurched violently as Lee Wooshin slammed the brakes, throwing both women forward against their restraints. Someone in the car ahead must have cut them off. Wooshin muttered a sharp curse under his breath.
But Seoryeong no longer had any attention for the driver. She felt completely **bound** by Joo Seolheon's malicious gaze—trapped in a web of words she couldn't escape.
"I admit you've come this far on your own. That's impressive, in its way." The deputy's voice was almost conversational now, as if discussing quarterly reports. "But that splinter piercing your heart is just one of many. The truth is like a **broken mirror**—full of fragments. And you think Kim Hyeon is the only truth that matters."
"…"
"Then go ahead. Chase that useless love."
She sneered, her face full of contempt, nodding with her chin raised in aristocratic disdain.
"Just take **that** and leave the rest."
The message behind her words was perfectly clear: _I don't want you to know anything beyond Kim Hyeon's location. This is a transaction. Take the husband and stop digging._
Seoryeong stared at her with trembling eyes, but that condescending tone was truly infuriating. Something about the casualness of the offer—the way they were discarding Kim Hyeon like outdated equipment—made her blood boil.
_Someone like **her** can just… give him away?_
_Someone like **this**…_
Seoryeong swallowed her surging emotions and forced herself to think.
"Aren't you giving up the agency too easily?"
"…!"
"Kim Hyeon isn't a disposable object. Why are you treating him like this?"
An inexplicable anger boiled within her—something beyond her own stake in this. What did broken fingernails matter compared to **this**? It wasn't the pain she was inflicting that disturbed her. It was the way they **used** and then **discarded** Kim Hyeon that enraged her.
_And the fact that Kim Hyeon chose **them**, not me…_
"If it were me," she said quietly, "even if my organs were being ripped apart, I wouldn't say a single word about someone I was protecting."
She bit her lip and reached for the defibrillator unit mounted on the wall.
Her gaze accidentally met Lee Wooshin's in the rearview mirror. Since when had he been staring at her? His eyes were unwavering, clearly shaken by something he'd witnessed. His brow was furrowed stiffly, and even in that brief moment, his pale face showed profound discomfort.
But the look in his eyes as they rested on Seoryeong felt **burning**. Intense in a way that had nothing to do with professional assessment.
Seoryeong almost turned her face away to refocus on the task at hand. She was too busy for this. The heat rising to her head was too intense to process any additional complications.
"So now you're offering Kim Hyeon at a cheap price."
She pulled the needle from Deputy Joo's finger in one swift motion—a tactical retreat before escalation. Then she activated the defibrillator, letting the high-pitched whine of charging fill the cramped space. She pressed the paddles firmly against the deputy's shoulders and whispered:
"In that case, I'll **take** him at a high price."
"Turn that off—!"
"**Ughh—!**"
Deputy Joo writhed violently as the electric current coursed through her body, her eyes rolling upward until only the whites showed. Seoryeong adjusted the voltage dial and pressed the paddles against several different points on Joo Seolheon's arm and torso. Each discharge made the emergency stretcher shake violently, the restraints straining against the woman's convulsions.
"If you give up something precious so easily," Seoryeong said between shocks, her voice eerily calm, "it just makes me **angry.**"
"Ugh—!"
"I never thought this would be easy from the start."
"Ugh—!"
"I haven't given up yet—so why are you giving up first?"
"…"
"Your loyalty is even lower than **mine**. And I've only been playing along this whole time."
Joo Seolheon stared up at her, gasping for breath between spasms, her body twitching with aftershocks.
"And what difference will it make," she rasped, "if you manage to find Kim Hyeon?"
"…!"
Even though her lips trembled from the electrical assault, her face remained cold and strangely calm. A faint smile was etched there—the smile of someone holding cards no one else could see.
That subtle expression radiated a quiet, terrible confidence. The conviction of someone who was always one step ahead. Who had already accounted for this possibility.
"No matter what you do, you won't learn anything from him." Her voice was stronger now. "Do you think an agent who follows the principles and ethics of the National Intelligence Service would **betray** their country just to tell you everything? Kim Hyeon is a trained operative. That's why he won't reveal a **single** detail about his mission to you."
"…"
"Not even his identity. His real name. His actual age. You won't get **anything** from him."
"…"
"So go ahead." That contemptuous smile widened. "Take Kim Hyeon."
The throbbing in Seoryeong's temples beat like a war drum. Even though they were essentially **giving** her Kim Hyeon, she had never felt so disgusted by a victory.
"Let's see if someone like you—who can only resort to torture like this—can actually make him talk."
"…"
"Kim Hyeon is the type of person who can endure pain even when his organs are being ripped apart."
That firm, absolute tone pierced Seoryeong's heart like a blade sliding between ribs.
"Or maybe…" Deputy Joo's bloodshot eyes narrowed with cruel amusement. "Do you think Kim Hyeon actually **fell in love** with you?"
"…!"
"Are you hoping for his **feelings**?"
Her face twisted into something between pity and disgust—as if looking at a pathetic creature that didn't understand its own insignificance.
"People who always talk about love… their faces always have the same **pathetic** look."
"…"
Seoryeong felt trapped—as if walls were closing in from all directions, pressing the air from her lungs. She threw the defibrillator paddles aside and leaned heavily against the ambulance wall, her legs suddenly weak.
Wherever she looked, all she saw was a dark swamp that wanted to swallow her whole. It felt terrible—like drowning in a pool of sticky, poisonous words. Disbelief, anxiety, and self-loathing surged through her in overwhelming waves.
She rested her forehead against her knees, her breath starting to come in ragged gasps.
Although anger still burned within her, she couldn't think of a single sharp retort. She **hated** this pathetic feeling—the feeling of being completely silenced. Of having nothing left to say.
_Is she right?_
_Will Hyeon really tell me nothing?_
_Was any of it real?_
"Han Seoryeong."
Suddenly, the ambulance swerved sharply, throwing her body sideways. Her head and elbow struck the floor hard, jolting her violently out of her spiral of dark thoughts. Pain bloomed across her skull.
Shaking her head to clear it, she tried to push herself up. At that same moment, a calm voice came from the driver's seat—steady and measured, cutting through her chaos.
"It's not as easy as you thought, is it?"
Through the rearview mirror, she saw a pair of narrow, knowing eyes looking at her. Lee Wooshin's gaze held something complicated—concern, calculation, and something else she couldn't name.
"Switch places with me."
---