“Hey! Han Seoryeong!”

“It was the defector, Heo Channa, who helped me.”

“Shut that damn mouth of yours!”

“And the brother-in-law, turns out he’s a former NIS agent?”

Seoryeong smiled, and Jung Pilgyu turned beet red up to his neck, eyes flaring.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!”

“Looks like you’re surprisingly sentimental, Mr. Jung.”

Suddenly, she smiled a bitter smile and asked,

“Did you quit your job to marry a defector’s sister after taking care of the both of them?”

“There’s no reason to keep listening to this.”

He started to get up and turn away.

“If Channa-ssi gets investigated, don’t you know your wife’s hair gets dragged into it too? Don’t turn your back. I’m not done talking.”

Jung Pilgyu’s broad chest heaved as he clenched his fists. His gaze toward Seoryeong brimmed with revulsion and suspicion. But she met the murderous stare without blinking, sitting calmly in wait.

“...What the hell do you want?”

“A job.”

“...What?”

The tension in his furrowed brows loosened momentarily, like air had just hissed out.

“I heard Blast Corp is the number one private company in this country for VIP protection.”

“...!”

“I read an interview with the CEO. Said the NIS Deputy Director personally handed out awards at this year’s Cyber Defense Competition. The event’s security was handled by Blast.”

Seoryeong wore a friendly smile, carefully concealing the dangerous intent beneath it.

“From what I read in defense papers, the NIS outsources some of its work to Blast. When operations are short on manpower, they make use of private companies.”

“...Why the hell would you look something like that up?”

Jung Pilgyu’s complexion had returned to normal as he crossed his arms. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

“What do you want from me?”

“I told you.”

Whether she used a bodyguard as a pawn, or got close to a VIP herself—what Seoryeong needed was a cover job.

“A job? And you expect me to believe that?”

“So you’re not going to?”

“....”

Jung Pilgyu clenched his jaw. The arrogance in her voice—like what if you don’t believe me, then?—made his fists clench all on their own.

His wife, his young daughter, and his wild little sister-in-law all flashed through his mind. If this woman really tied Channa to her defection attempt...

Even thinking about it made his temple throb. But he started by pointing out the obvious obstacle.

“Blast only hires people with military or defense backgrounds. Ministry of National Defense, former NIS, special forces, intelligence agents, discharged soldiers. And you, Ms. Han...”

He looked at her like she was a headache personified.

“You have no skills.”

Blast Corp was a subsidiary of Sehwa Group, the third-largest corporate entity in the country. It had started out providing security for executives traveling abroad on architecture bids, but after merging with a foreign PMC (Private Military Company), it had seen serious growth.

A world where even war was a product you could sell.

In the shifting global landscape, they’d spent the past twenty years dispatching private soldiers to conflict zones—places like Iraq, Libya, Afghanistan, the UAE, and Nigeria. Those records became proof of capability, eventually making them East Asia’s leading military company.

Beyond direct combat, they offered services in security, logistics, transportation, investigation, and military contracting on a national level. Some government deals alone reached into the hundreds of billions of won. Private firms like theirs were beginning to cover the blind spots too big for ministries like Foreign Affairs or the NIS to handle alone.

Their clientele ranged wildly—from ruthless dictators, corrupt rebel forces, and drug cartels, to legitimate sovereign nations, humanitarian NGOs, and aid organizations.

And that meant the company’s priority was always highly skilled personnel.

“So what are you good at, Ms. Han?”

There was only one thing that came to Seoryeong’s mind.

“House...”

“Let’s not go as far as murder, please. Attempted defection was already well past the line.”

He rubbed his forehead. But Seoryeong calmly shook her head.

“No—I meant housework.”

***

Heavy steel bars shook violently front to back. Every time a guard passed by, the naked inmates pressed up against the metal, hurling curses and rattling the cell doors.

A private detention center in Cambodia, crammed with hundreds of inmates on land no bigger than a palm.

The detainees, unable to bathe, tangled their greasy bodies together—fighting, killing, and even fucking.

In this place devoid of all order and hygiene, only one man lay sprawled out, casually watching the sky beyond the bars.

Clouds.

He looked like a big-eyed owl, and yawned so wide his mouth almost tore open.

His knuckles were stained so dark with dried blood, it looked like that was their natural skin tone. That’s how many punches he must’ve thrown.

Coming here to rest after a mission had become a yearly tradition of sorts. The man slept in, didn’t bathe, and blankly observed the chaos of the uneducated beating each other senseless.

The Deputy Director always nagged him about his antics, but this kind of madhouse was where he felt most at peace.

Maybe because he had nowhere else to return to.

Pretending to live a normal life made him break out in hives.

Clock-in-and-out office worker. Devoted, gentle husband. Sleeping only on soft mattresses, never missing breakfast...

Even now, just thinking about it made him snort.

The daily life where his housewife wife washed his underwear had been the most grueling mission he’d endured in his ten years as an agent.

And that blind, desperate devotion that considered “Kim Hyun” the center of the world—just thinking about that suffocating affection made his face twist.

He’d rather slit someone’s throat than hold hands and go on a walk with someone like that.

He pressed his nails into his skin, scratching at the itch that came from wearing a silicone mask for too long.

How many days had it been already? His dry eyes blinked slowly.

“...Ah.”

Just then, one of his molars started throbbing. His smooth forehead crumpled instantly.

“Should’ve smashed this thing earlier.”

He gripped his jaw and distorted one side of his face.

The cause of the pain was simple: inside his molar was a device that transmitted a low-level electric signal. It was used for black agents to report their survival once a month.

Pressing it meant “I’m still alive.” But the sensation now—

Throb. Throb-throb. Throb-throb-throb. His tooth vibrated repeatedly. A rhythmic pattern—both signal and code. The pain rattled his skull.

It was an emergency recall order.

Lee Wooshin handed the guard a tightly rolled bundle of dollars. “Good rest, as always,” he said, and the guard—who’d been dealing with him for years—grinned, revealing a gap-toothed smile.

Once outside, the man climbed into a prepared car and immediately removed his mask.

Unlike previous operations where he could change masks periodically, this time he’d left it on for weeks. His skin was red and inflamed.

He dumped a bottle of cold water over his face. Then he opened the glove box and shoved a wireless earpiece into his ear. As soon as he started the engine, a painfully familiar voice flowed through the receiver.

—Lee Wooshin, return home immediately.

She had many titles. Youngest Deputy Director in the NIS. The only female executive. The strongest candidate for the next Director.

Also, the superior who had personally scouted UDT special forces agent Lee Wooshin ten years ago.

“I’m only accepting calls about my resignation paperwork.”

—Two of our overseas agents are dead.

“So now you’re poking around a living person’s molar because you didn’t send a wreath?”

Wooshin didn’t blink as he stepped on the gas. Obituaries meant nothing to him anymore. He massaged his stiff neck with one hand as he steered with the other.

—Just come back. We’ll talk in person.

“Coming back’s a pain, and I’m sick of talking.”

—I told you to wait! Do you know how hard it is to raise someone like you?! We’re already short on agents with ten years in the field, and now two are dead—! You think I’d just let your resignation, scrawled with ‘personal reasons,’ slide while your molar’s still pinging?!

“That’s why I gave you a follow-up.”

—...Right. A text message. ‘Diagnosed with mental illness.’

From the other end of the line came the sound of her taking a long, deep breath.

Wooshin ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) grinned with relief.

“Come on. You really thought I’d been sane this whole time?”