For the briefest moment, Kiya looked completely abandoned. As if he’d hit an unbreakable wall, he bit his lip. His pale, blank face reflected back at her like a mirror.

Only after seeing that expression did Seoryeong begin to believe they might really have shared a childhood. This was a foreign kind of kinship—distinct from the squabbling, combative bonds she’d had with older girls and boys at the orphanage. A visceral sense told her: he’s the same breed as me.

“Why are you being so cruel to me?”

At that moment, her nape was seized and their foreheads collided. Kiya’s glare, pressing into her forehead, was sharp and feral.

One step further and he might really stab her in the neck, yet his expression didn’t waver. His voice came out hoarse, crushed by the pressure on his throat.

“If I let you go now...—!”

“Ugh...!”

His grip on her neck tightened sharply. The jolt of pain made Seoryeong’s brow twitch.

“You’ll regret it. You’ll want to smash your own foot.”

“...!”

“Just say the word. Admit you’re Sonia, promise me you’ll come back to me. If you just accept that much, I’ll drag you out of the hell you’re flailing in—just like that.”

“......”

“You want to hear it too, don’t you?”

She bit the inside of her mouth.

“You want to know who Kim Hyeon really is. You’re dying to know.”

Her heart dropped to her feet. Her insides flushed hot, pierced.

That low voice was drawing her in.

Her eyes involuntarily locked onto his mouth—just before it moved. No, she wanted to force it open herself. Her head was heating up with the urge.

And a sudden thought flashed—This bastard might be more useful than Deputy Chief Ju Seolheon.

What if she squeezed the information out of him, then left him incapacitated? If she played along as Sonia, then killed him and escaped when the time was right? A million calculations began to race through her mind.

But... was a priest with a grenade launcher really just some guy?

According to Agent Yu Dawit, the Sakhalin branch was a violent cult. They had trained from childhood under the guise of circus performers, then been sold to the Russian government. And Kiya—he had survived all of that.

Besides, the team members—Lee Wooshin—were still unaccounted for. Still in his grasp.

Seoryeong shut her eyes and reined in the sudden impulse. She never should have stepped onto this priest’s spiderweb to begin with.

The hardest people to control are those who never lose their center. If an opponent is trying to use your weakness against you, the only way to regain control is to nullify the leverage.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to get caught by my husband.”

“...!”

“I’m going to make him come for me. That resolve—has never once wavered. I’ll bring Kim Hyeon to me, my own way. So I don’t need your cheap answer sheet.”

Kiya’s cheek twitched like he was having a spasm.

“So you’re gonna die calling yourself Han Seoryeong?”

“Yes. Sonia doesn’t feel like a name I should carry.”

He muttered Han Seoryeong, Han Seoryeong bitterly, like he was grinding gall into his tongue. Then the mild-mannered mask peeled away, revealing a cruel edge.

“Then what are you—Kim Hyeon or Lee Wooshin?”

The sudden question stopped her cold. Just as she tried to step out of Kiya’s mind game, another strand of his web caught her ankle. She swallowed dryly.

“Think carefully. If you answer wrong, your team will be vaporized.”

“...!”

“They’re in a minefield right now.”

A... minefield?

That shook even the calmest part of her mind.

“And you’re still going to say Kim Hyeon?”

He asked again, grinning darkly. There was a mocking edge in his voice, like a test.

Even knowing it was just his cruel habit, her throat closed up. The answer was obvious—shouldn’t have required thought.

And yet Seoryeong hesitated.

Then came a loud, delighted laugh.

“Well, well—look at you...”

She unconsciously averted her gaze.

Were Kim Hyeon and Lee Wooshin even comparable? She’d only used Lee Wooshin to reach Kim Hyeon.

Even with that clarity, she couldn’t speak. It made no sense—even to herself. Her stomach twisted.

“――.”

A faint shame—a ripple she hadn’t expected—swept over her. This wasn’t hesitation she wanted to know she had.

She bit her lip hard. It felt like she was the one caught in an invisible trap.

Kiya finally let her go, his gaze now strange and inscrutable. The grip on her nape released, her body dropped—and cold air rushed in.

“You don’t even need me to destroy you. You’ll do it yourself.”

“...!”

“Just like God died and came back to life—maybe you too...”

The words made no sense. Kiya kissed the crucifix around his neck and offered a short, chilling prayer.

“So that’s it... To find Sonia, Han Seoryeong has to die first.”

“...!”

It was a curse in the form of prayer. His eyes met hers—filled with arrogant malice.

“Fine. Go ahead. Chase it your way. Come back in pieces.”

At that moment, the earth shook violently, and Seoryeong flinched, shoulders tensing. Her head snapped toward the blank wall where there should’ve been a window.

What the hell was that? What’s going on outside?

Her pale gaze drilled into the wall. That blast had been massive—loud enough to shake the entire place.

“I’ll come collect my Sonia then.”

***

Beep. Beep—

The handheld metal detector hanging around Yu Dawit’s neck kept emitting ominous sounds. Lee Wooshin stepped carefully, following the disordered footprints scattered across the dirt.

The children and Han Seoryeong had vanished. Only unfamiliar footprints remained—far too many. Which meant just as many people had been mobilized to extract them.

The surroundings were nothing but overgrown farmland. The trail of prints continued through the crops like a rail line, suggesting a possible escape route.

Lee Wooshin didn’t hesitate. One step. Then another. Then a third. As he moved boldly forward, Yu Dawit crawled out of the car behind him.

“Team Leader—! Wait, no, don’t move, ngh—!”

“No time.”

“Sir?”

“That detector around your neck? Useless.”

His voice was cold, decisive.

“Realistically, the only way to avoid stepping on a mine is to find and disable it before you do. Can you do that now? We’d need four days to scan just this tennis court-sized area.”

“......”

“And that detector? It’s not even a proper model. It’s picking up aluminum, copper, all kinds of junk. The mine’s metal parts are barely a centimeter. Rescue’s our only option.”

“Then let’s call for backup, you should stay put—!”

“I’d rather die walking than rot waiting.”

“...!”

Agent Yu couldn’t say anything. One look at the wrecked trailer made it clear why the team leader was rushing like this. He clenched his fist, eyes screwed shut against this cursed situation.

Lee Wooshin followed the unidentified footprints leading through the fields and spoke evenly.

“We should have signal outside the monastery. Contact Heo Channa. She’ll alert the Saint Petersburg office and they’ll send an emergency rescue team. This mission ends with formal withdrawal.”

He cut it off with ice-cold finality.

“And as of now, the operation shifts to full survival priority.”

As expected, the children were a pretext. Kiya’s real goal had always been Han Seoryeong. The Special Security Team—just background props. Lee Wooshin moved more decisively.

Click—

Then came the sound they should never have heard. A compressed spring clicked under a boot sole. The trigger of a landmine.

It felt like a dead hand had shot up from the ground and grabbed his ankle. That chilling sensation crawled up his spine. One leg locked up stiffly.

Lee Wooshin turned to the source of the sound.

“Who just—”

Ki Taemin had frozen mid-crawl from the truck. Yu Dawit stood rigid in an awkward posture. The one who had been following closest in his footsteps was Yu.

He had gone pale, sweat dripping cold.

“Agent Yu Dawit, don’t move.”

Lee Wooshin’s voice was low and steady—barely a raised brow.

“That could be an S-mine. Or anti-personnel. If it’s the former, metal pellets shoot in all directions. We all die. If it’s the latter, your balls explode. You know that better than I do.”

“......”

Yu Dawit didn’t even dare breathe.

Dusk had already begun to fall. Lee Wooshin glanced at his injured teammates, bloodied and broken in various places, then fixed his eyes on the distant steeple.

The muscle in his jaw tensed as he ground his teeth, then shifted direction. His stride back toward the others was harsh and firm.

“There’s a way. Switch places with me.”

It was time to quit Blast Sado for good. After this mission, he would leave everything behind.