Before Seoryeong could answer, the ambulance veered sharply to the side of the road. Without a word, she unbuckled her seatbelt, slammed the driver's door shut, and strode quickly toward the rear.
The moment Lee Wooshin lowered the oxygen mask from his ear, Chairman Joo's expression hardened into something murderous. The woman who had been spitting venom moments ago now fixed him with a glare sharp enough to kill.
"You **bastard**!"
That incandescent gaze bore straight into him. Granted, the Instructor's appearance always commanded attention—but this? This was different. Seoryeong stepped forward, attempting to redirect Chairman Joo's focus by positioning herself in the woman's line of sight. It was useless. The Chairman's face had flushed a deep, dangerous crimson, her body coiled as though she might shatter anything standing between her and her target.
"Why did you go **this far**?!"
The words shot out through clenched teeth, her voice cracking under the strain of barely contained fury.
_Ah._ Seoryeong understood the reaction completely. In a situation already thick with interrogation and veiled threats, anyone would tense at the sudden entrance of a man like Wooshin—broad-shouldered, unreadable, radiating quiet menace.
At that moment, a gentle smile appeared on Lee Wooshin's face.
"To take it."
He settled onto the jump seat and lightly patted the oxygen tank beside him.
"So you know what it feels like to lose something."
"—!"
"Let's see how long you can hold out."
He murmured the words like a lullaby, bringing the oxygen mask closer to Chairman Joo's mouth.
With his back turned, his expression remained hidden, but Chairman Joo's eyes churned with barely suppressed rage. He opened the cylinder valve and adjusted the controls with practiced efficiency. To the woman strapped to the cot, the process was incomprehensible—mechanical, clinical. The pressure gauge needle shuddered violently, then a loud hissing of escaping air filled the ambulance.
Chairman Joo began to thrash, her palms slapping frantically against the emergency cot. Her breath fogged the inside of the mask, and her already ravaged face slowly drained of color.
_He's cutting off her oxygen supply._
"Enough... **enough**!"
Chairman Joo screamed, her nails clawing at the vinyl surface in agony. But her voice, trapped behind the clear plastic, emerged muffled and nearly inaudible.
"Hyeon—I can bring him! Don't you understand?! **Stop this madness!**"
The woman bucked against her restraints. Useless.
"Since when do subordinates follow the demands of hostages?"
"You... **damn you**!"
"Still breathing?"
Lee Wooshin tilted his head, a thin and unreadable smile gracing his lips.
"That's not enough."
"Urgh—!"
"Even you, Chairman, should know what this feels like."
He continued to adjust the tank, further restricting the airflow with methodical precision.
"There are people who never even know what it feels like."
"..."
"There are people who have to pretend not to know until the day they die."
"**Bastard**...!"
Chairman Joo forced the word out, though her breath had grown ragged, desperate. Then Lee Wooshin turned calmly toward Seoryeong. His silent gaze asked everything without speaking: _What will you do?_
His composed expression seemed to promise—that he would bring Hyeon if that was what she wanted. Or the truth, if that was what she sought.
For reasons she couldn't fully articulate, the weight pressing against Seoryeong's chest began to dissolve. The lingering resentment that had calcified inside her softened, just slightly. She reached out and grasped the back of Wooshin's hand.
"—!"
Chairman Joo's question hung in the air like barbed wire, reluctant to disappear.
_But even so..._
What was the point? If growing up without parents had already carved another hollow in her life that nothing could fill—what difference did one more answer make? She could live without knowing. She _had_ lived without knowing. She herself was proof of that.
But unfairly, cruelly, there were things that were impossible to endure without clarity.
_Wasn't it said that truth was made of many pieces?_
Seoryeong only needed one.
Her choice was always singular. **Always.**
"That person. I just want to meet that person as soon as possible."
The hand that had briefly touched her shoulder withdrew, and when it left, it felt cold.
Chairman Joo's labored breathing sounded almost like laughter.
---
## — The Reed Field —
The ambulance drove relentlessly through the gray afternoon before finally stopping in a vast expanse of reeds in a remote corner of Gyeonggi Province.
_Am I nervous?_
Watching three black vehicles approach from the opposite direction, Seoryeong moistened her dry lips with her tongue. She stood behind the bound Joo Seolheon, staring at the endless sea of reeds stretching toward the horizon.
Every time the cold wind grazed her cheek, a rustling sound—like waves crashing against a distant shore—echoed around her.
The hostage exchange was simple. Hand over Chairman Joo. Receive Hyeon in return.
They had reactivated Chairman Joo's phone en route, and to minimize the risk of ambush or execution, they had chosen this open field as the meeting point. No cover. No hiding places. No more than three people on each side. If either party violated the terms, Chairman Joo would not be released.
It was decided that Lee Wooshin would escort Chairman Joo to the designated point.
"What does Hyeon look like?"
From close range, Seoryeong searched Chairman Joo's eyes. Despite her disheveled appearance—hair matted, face drawn—the woman's posture remained rigidly upright.
"In my eyes?" A sneer twisted her lips. "Ugly and pathetic."
The words didn't touch her. But Lee Wooshin's face—glimpsed briefly in her peripheral vision—looked strange. Dark hollows had formed beneath his eyes, impossible to tell if they came from exhaustion or something else entirely.
That sight unsettled her far more than the insult.
_That person... for me..._
She bit her lip and turned away, pushing the thought down before it could take root.
Just then, a luxury sedan rolled to a stop in the center of the reed field. The thick doors opened in synchronized movements, and three men in black suits emerged like shadows given form.
Seoryeong's heart hammered against her ribs, beating faster and louder until she could hear nothing else. Dizziness swept through her—adrenaline flooding her system, constricting her breath.
_Seeing Hyeon directly._
_Meeting that person._
_Seeing him with her own eyes._
Finally, _finally_, it felt like she was reaching the finish line.
As she stood rooted to the earth, Lee Wooshin approached and took hold of Chairman Joo's arm. His hand brushed against Seoryeong's as he passed—and his skin was **ice cold**.
The contact sent a spike of unease through her chest.
Instinctively, she searched for his face.
The man's eyes, shrouded in deep shadow, radiated an aura as sharp and lethal as a knife's edge. His lips parted—as though he were about to say something—then pressed firmly shut again.
He turned his back without a word.
Seoryeong swallowed against her dry throat.
"..."
She bit her lip, unable to suppress the dread coiling in her stomach.
The two figures moved farther away, growing smaller against the swaying reeds—but there was still no sign of anyone resembling Hyeon. The men visible in the distance were clearly not him.
When they reached the designated point, Chairman Joo's subordinates stepped forward and began untying her restraints.
At that same moment, the trunk of the sedan swung open.
Something large and elongated—resembling a sports bag, but bigger—fell heavily at Lee Wooshin's feet.
Simultaneously, Chairman Joo raised her hand and struck Lee Wooshin across the face.
**Once.**
**Twice.**
**Three times.**
**Four!**
"—!"
The sound of the blows was so loud it echoed across the field, reaching Seoryeong where she stood frozen.
**Five. Six. Seven. Eight!**
Chairman Joo's small frame swayed with each strike, her breath ragged with fury—but she didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
_What the hell—_
Seoryeong's legs began to tremble.
**Nine. Ten!**
After exactly ten strikes, the woman slammed the car door shut and disappeared inside. The vehicles began to pull away, leaving nothing but tire tracks in the soft earth.
Lee Wooshin's face—once pale and smooth—was now bruised and swelling. Blood gathered at the corner of his mouth.
He spat it onto the ground without reaction.
With what seemed like tremendous effort, he bent down and lifted the bag. Then he began walking toward Seoryeong.
Step by step.
His expression shifted with each stride—as though he were wrestling with some internal decision. But then his gaze wavered, uncertain, like the turning of seasons caught between warmth and cold.
He walked slowly. More shadow than man.
Until he stopped completely.
"—."
He wiped his face with his hand, looking utterly lost.
The cold wind blew again, and the reeds around him swayed wildly—thousands of stalks bending in unison like a flock of birds taking flight.
Lee Wooshin stood alone among them.
_What is happening?_
_Where is Hyeon?_
_What's in that bag?_
Everything felt like a labyrinth with no exit.
An overwhelming feeling surged through Seoryeong's chest—something raw and primal—and she **shouted**.
"**Instructor!**"
---
In an instant, Lee Wooshin vanished from her line of sight.
"—!"
_What? Where—where did he go?_
Seoryeong broke into a sprint, shoving through the wall of reeds. Her pale, chapped lips parted as she gasped for breath.
Then she saw him—moving quickly toward the river—and her eyes went wide.
Without slowing, he descended the slope, stumbled, his shirt catching on branches and his skin scraping raw against stone. He fell hard, then forced himself upright again.
"**Han Seoryeong, don't move!**"
That voice—rough and thunderous—she hadn't heard it in so long. Her feet stopped involuntarily, as though her body remembered obedience before her mind could process the command.
"Instructor—where's Hyeon? **Where is my husband?**"
Her voice trembled, saturated with fear.
The NIS vehicles were gone. But Hyeon wasn't in them.
She didn't understand.
_Was this a trick?_
_Had Chairman Joo deceived them?_
_Where did things go wrong?_
_What had she overlooked?_
Her thoughts spiraled into chaos, grasping for logic that refused to coalesce.
Meanwhile, Lee Wooshin's ashen face had twisted into something terrible—something like grief—as he lifted the bag toward the river's edge. He looked as though he intended to **throw it in**.
"What are you—"
The bag looked heavy. Veins stood out along the hand gripping it, knuckles white with strain.
_This doesn't make sense._
_Why is Lee Wooshin struggling with something as simple as a bag?_
_What's inside it?_
Before the thought could finish forming, Seoryeong lunged.
She moved like an animal—pure instinct—grabbing the bag and wrenching the zipper open in one violent motion.
She didn't know who was more surprised.
"—."
Wide forehead.
Thin eyebrows.
Long, single-lidded eyes.
A sharp nose.
Skin darkened by the sun.
It was the face she had once touched gently, afraid of waking her sleeping husband.
The face she had always hesitated to paint too freely—because of her doubts.
Seoryeong's gaze fell upon that face.
The face that was now **rapidly decaying**.
Lee Wooshin immediately moved to cover her eyes, but she slapped his hand away with savage force.
A sharp ringing filled her ears.
"Ah..."
Her hands trembled violently.
Even so—even as her mind began to dim at the edges—she clutched the bag and slowly traced the unfamiliar contours with her fingertips.
_What is this?_
She couldn't stop. Couldn't look away. Her fingers moved obsessively over the corpse, mapping what remained.
From the ear.
To the chin.
To the throat.
Then to the broad shoulders.
Her fingertips recognized the shape of him—and her heart trembled like a spasm, seized by something that felt almost like **joy**. The relief of finally finding the missing piece of herself.
She pulled the zipper down further.
And finally stared at the body of a man who had been **brutally mutilated**.
"Hyeon..."
Her voice, when it came, sounded empty. Lost.
Like a child's.
"**Is that you?**"