“......!”

Wait—something she'd once dismissed as cultist nonsense was now being explained through science? Seoryeong momentarily forgot all the turmoil within her and became completely absorbed in Yu Dawit’s explanation.

“There was also that verse about being forcibly marked on the right hand or forehead, right?”

‘...He causes all, the small and the great, the rich and the poor, the free and the slaves, to be given a mark on their right hand or on their forehead... so that no one can buy or sell unless he has the mark... Revelation 13:14—’

“Yes, that’s right.”

She nodded, recalling Kiya’s voice.

“That mark on the forehead or hand... it might actually be a biochip.”

“......!”

“To my knowledge, VeriChip has already been commercialized.”

Yu Dawit rubbed his chin and gestured with his palm toward Gitaemin, as if asking for something. Understanding instantly, Gitaemin handed over his phone. After tapping at the screen a few times, Yu Dawit continued in a grim tone.

“It’s a tiny microchip, about the size of a grain of rice, implanted by surgery or injection. In the U.S., it was approved by the FDA all the way back in 2004. You can use it to make purchases, track location, conduct bank transactions—and of course, it stores your medical data.” 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Gitaemin, who had been listening in, looked intrigued.

“They started with pets and endangered species, but now I guess they’re implanting it in humans too. Just one chip replaces your house keys, credit cards, ID. Apparently, in Sweden, you can even use it for train tickets?”

He handed over the phone, and a whole article on Sweden’s national railway company popped up. Yu Dawit glanced around, seemingly thirsty, and Seoryeong quickly poured him some water. After clearing his rough throat again, he went on.

“Anyway, the world changed too quickly. And the Bible warned us to beware such marks. Said they would control humanity in the end. Manipulate us.”

Seoryeong’s expression shifted slightly.

Had Kiya also spoken of it as a warning? He had seemed tormented by childhood memories, but... no, that wasn’t it. It was different.

She clearly remembered his voice when he recited that verse—the one he said he had memorized while beaten daily, clutching her hand.

Fast, solemn, without rise or fall. Almost breathless with reverence.

It wasn’t the face of someone warning against the Mark of the Beast. It was the face of someone waiting for it. Someone who believed.

A fanatic’s face.

Seoryeong stiffened, uneasy.

“Come to think of it, don’t you think humans still haven’t given up on brainwashing? During the Cold War, the U.S. and Russia both went all-out trying to brainwash prisoners. I heard they poured enormous effort into it. But all those projects failed.”

“......”

“But... who knows—”

Yu Dawit shrugged nonchalantly, then winced and clutched his side again.

“If someone brilliant enough ever manages to fully decode and dominate the human brain... it might really become possible.”

“......”

Silence briefly enveloped the hospital room.

“But those kinds of chips, implanted in the head—they cause severe side effects. Like... suddenly wanting to kill someone. Or wanting to kill yourself. Or being unable to sleep. Or not needing to sleep for days.”

“......!”

“Or exhibiting highly dissociative behavior.”

Seoryeong’s face grew more and more serious.

“There’s a famous electric car CEO who’s taken it further—he developed the chip into a full-on ‘neural implant.’ Supposedly, it can fix spinal injuries and even restore lost brain function.”

“Okay, wait—this isn’t one of your delusions, right?”

Still skeptical, Gitaemin gave him a look. Yu Dawit just rubbed his brow.

“It hits closer to ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) home for us, actually. The tech’s designed around the motor cortex, so it’s useful for enhancing soldier performance.”

“...Soldiers?”

“They could make actual Sol-diers.”

“......!”

“Not just that—if it works, it might finally cure all kinds of previously untreatable conditions. Like dementia, hearing loss, blindness, paralysis, depression, insomnia...”

“All of that, just from implanting a chip in your brain.”

Gitaemin clicked his tongue and scoffed. Yu Dawit took another sip of water, then gestured with his chin toward the ceiling lights shining down.

“They say electric stimulation of the visual cortex could let blind people see. Of course it’s dangerous, which is why the FDA hasn’t approved it yet. But once it’s perfected... we’re talking about technology that can literally turn your vision on and off.”

“......!”

“And if it can manipulate emotions, too—then cults would throw a damn parade for it.”

He covered one eye with his hand, then removed it as if unveiling light. For some reason, Seoryeong’s heart began to race uncontrollably.

Her knees trembled faintly in a strange, creeping fear. She clenched her cold hands and, for a brief moment, thought of Kiya—and Sonia, the girl he had sought.

Was that the reason they sold off those Korean-Russian children to Russia? If VeriChip had been officially approved in 2004, Seoryeong would’ve been about nine years old back then.

She suddenly found herself calculating her own age, then shook her head as if repulsed by the thought. But... was it really just America pushing for this?

Just then, Yu Dawit groaned again and shifted in his seat.

“If all of this is true, then God’s gonna be furious.”

Seoryeong grabbed the hem of her clothes and drew in her hunched shoulders, stiff as iron.

**

“Patient, sir... You really shouldn’t—this isn’t...”

A faint, awkward voice crept into her ears as she shifted in place.

Was that a woman’s voice?

But her body felt like it was melting under gravity, and she had no desire to lift her cheek from the soft pillow.

How long had it been since she’d last slept so soundly?

The microfiber bedding smelled clean, and wherever her skin touched it, it tickled like goose feathers.

“Sir, seriously, you can’t—!”

“It’s fine.”

Was that... a nurse?

Frowning, she cracked her heavy eyelids. A familiar ceiling came into view.

Where was this again?

Seoryeong couldn’t quite recall how she had fallen asleep. Clinging to the tail ends of her fragmented thoughts, she retraced her steps—slowly. The nurse’s whispery voice still fluttered beside her.

“Um, I checked your chart, and today’s your birthday, sir... S-So happy birthday.”

“......”

“Okay, I’ll just... remove the IV now.”

When Seoryeong turned toward the sound, a now-familiar back and unfamiliar hospital gown filled her vision.

“――.”

So, right now... I’m lying in the patient’s bed, and Lee Wooshin, the actual patient, is standing there?

Mortified, she bit her tongue.

That’s why the nurse was so flustered.

At last, yesterday’s hazy memories came rushing back. Seoryeong, dazed, had left her teammates’ rooms and wandered aimlessly, overwhelmed by the urge to collapse and sleep. Her feet had brought her to a hospital door.

She thought she was heading to her own room—but when she came to her senses, Wooshin was already fast asleep in the room, breathing quietly.

With no idea what else to do, her limbs hesitated awkwardly until she finally pulled out the guardian’s cot and laid down.

And yet—

She pressed her flushed face into the pillow in shame and shifted.

She wanted to sit up right away, but she didn’t want them to realize she’d woken up. So she kept her eyes shut and waited.

Meanwhile, the nurse’s voice kept fluttering around Wooshin, tinged with a hint of nervous giddiness.

“Um... If there’s anything you’d like to eat... I mean, I shouldn’t be offering this, but maybe some iced tea? It’s spring already, and the weather’s gotten so nice outside. I could push you in a wheelchair—”

“Could you lower your voice?”

“L-Lower than this?”

“Yes.”

That flat, emotionless baritone cut her off.

Seoryeong could feel his gaze, and instinctively held her breath. Her face itched like she was about to sneeze.

“You’ll wake her.”

It wasn’t even a proper sentence, but the heat in her ears flared instantly.

The nurse let out a quiet “Ah...”—somewhere between a sigh and a gasp—and turned her attention back to removing the IV. The sound of tape peeling and the shriveled fluid bag being detached echoed oddly in the still hospital room.

Before leaving, the nurse gently reminded him that he should lie down—but Wooshin didn’t reply.

Once the door fully shut, his palm came to rest against her cheek.

“――!”

Seoryeong snapped her eyes open the instant the nurse left. She winced first at the glare of sunlight, then saw the dust floating slowly in the beams between the curtains.

The world outside the window, in the clear light of day, was tinged with green. Young leaves had sprouted like seeds, swaying in the cool spring breeze beneath a spotless sky.

There were so many things she wanted to say to him. But for now, she stared out the window, letting everything else fade away—until Wooshin gently turned her face back toward him by the chin.

When he saw her swollen, sleep-puffed eyes, the corner of his lips twitched.

“Ugly.”

His eyes were clear—nothing like the night before.

Gone was the man trapped behind a curtain of trauma. Lee Wooshin was fully present now, staring straight at her.

Realizing this, Seoryeong felt her body completely relax.

Ah... so the nurse was right.

Spring had come, without her even noticing.