Since that day, she couldn’t digest food properly and lived on antacids. She wanted to ask Damon what the name of the child she gave birth to was—whether that child had also been dragged into those monstrous performances. But the thought was so hypocritical it made her laugh. A sharp smile turned inward, cutting at herself.

It wasn’t her child. It had just been another part of the mission. No different than assembling a listening device and planting it in enemy territory. That’s what she told herself every night as she closed her eyes.

Her husband worried whenever she ate and immediately fell ill, but Ju Seolheon couldn’t bring herself to say her stomach hurt. Whenever she remembered those bear-like soles of the children’s feet, she couldn’t utter anything that sounded like weakness.

Clutching her abdomen, she thought only—over and over—of the glorious position that awaited her.

I got every promise out of the CIA... Only a ruthless agent could’ve done this—no, only I could have. She grit her teeth until veins bulged at her forehead, sweat breaking out across her skin.

“Ugh...”

Even so... For the first time, she wanted to call out to God. She wondered if chasing after His traces would truly lead to the correct answer.

She entered her husband’s room and opened the Bible Ligai had once touched with his own hands. From its pages echoed the crowd’s applause and jeering.

Panting, she tore the Bible apart page by page—then suddenly hurled it onto the desk.

CRASH—! A shattering noise broke the stillness of dawn.

God, my ass...

If even someone like me is still breathing...

Then You’re a fake.

Your existence itself is a lie.

She glared at her own reflection in the crucifix’s shine.

“Looks like Ligai Viktor has finally succeeded.”

She had lost a drastic amount of weight in just a few years. Damon glanced disapprovingly at her increasingly gaunt cheeks every time they met.

To think that absurd, delusional paper... had actually been completed. Even the initial combination of injections stimulating the amygdala had been astonishing—but now he had gone even further. It was hard to believe.

The world would now shift into something completely different. Soon, there would be those with chips in their brains—and those without. The day when humans could be controlled completely wasn’t far off.

Moreover, the {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} Russian military could likely control every single third-generation Korean it had scattered across Asia... with the flick of a switch. And it was he, Ligai, who had brought that terrifying future closer.

“Ligai’s research will flow straight into Russia, no doubt. Looks like even having a wife he loves wasn’t enough to save him from God. Cults really are terrifying, aren’t they, Zoya?”

Damon handed her a thick envelope containing something hard. The feel of it—it was unmistakably a Glock 17.

She felt nothing but: So it’s come.

She wanted to leave Russia. She wanted it all to be over.

Ju Seolheon nodded, her face devoid of expression.

***

The house had become packed with small, delicate plants she’d started collecting—lined up on the balcony, filling the living room.

Ju Seolheon stared blankly at the plants she’d raised... then pulled them out by the roots and stuffed them all into garbage bags.

Then, as always, she cleaned the house and cooked her husband’s favorite meal.

When Ligai came home, they sat across the dinner table, exchanging mundane conversation. He said the food was unusually delicious and helped himself to a second bowl. As he set his spoon down—

She retrieved the gun she had taped under the table and loaded it.

Click. It happened in the middle of a peaceful evening.

“...Zoya?”

One bullet. Just one was enough. She tightened her grip. Across the muzzle, Ligai’s eyes wavered in confusion, unable to focus.

She had given her youth to him, but he was still pathetic and naive. There was no need for goodbyes. Her throat tightened—but the joy of finally being able to return to Korea welled up inside her like something long overdue. So yes, just one bullet was enough.

“I gave birth. Ten years ago.”

Ju Seolheon adjusted her grip, eyes brimming red.

“She didn’t die... She actually cried—loudly.”

“......!”

“I don’t know her name. I don’t know her face.”

“......”

“All I know is she was a girl.”

She hated how her lips trembled so pitifully. She tried to force strength into them. She just had to shoot him cleanly, right between the eyes—but her mouth moved on its own.

She confessed her shame like someone malfunctioning.

“Tell me. If she’s in Sakhalin... how can I find her?”

Clatter. The glass cup fell from Ligai’s hand. He staggered back. His trembling hand missed the table—sending the rice bowl crashing to the floor.

“I thought... she would grow up to be smart. Like you, Ligai.”

“Zoya... what the hell is this...?”

“I think I misjudged things. Badly.”

“......”

“The child I gave birth to—she’s in Sakhalin...”

Ju Seolheon shut her eyes tight and vomited up the rotting truth. Ligai turned pale, as if he’d just eaten human flesh.

“I... I don’t get it... You said... the baby died, Zoya... So how... how can she be in Sakhalin?”

When she didn’t answer, Ligai—revealing a coldness she’d never seen—shouted for the first time.

“Zoya, answer me properly!”

She flinched, the gun trembling in her grasp.

“...You were too focused on your father.”

Ju Seolheon didn’t avoid his now ghost-like face.

“Sixteen years ago, after you published that paper, I was sent here at the request of the United States—an agent of the Korean NIS. The name’s changed now... they call it the National Intelligence Service.”

At those words, Ligai grabbed her arm as if the gun no longer mattered. Her wrist bent back limply, but Ju Seolheon offered no resistance. The urgency in his touch was unmistakable—his strength oddly fierce.

“America... sent someone after reading my paper?”

His eyes blurred. He wasn’t angry—his voice was filled with something else. Gratitude? Hope? No—it crashed instantly into despair.

“Do you... do you know how long I’ve waited...!”

She didn’t understand his reaction.

“Was it you, Zoya? Ugh... I... I published that exaggerated paper on purpose. I thought if I did that... America would investigate me... and they’d take an interest in us Koreans, too...!”

He smiled through falling tears.

“I thought they’d save us...!”

Ju Seolheon’s expression hardened bitterly.

But Ligai...

“America already knows. They know the Sakhalin monastery is an unofficial KGB branch.”

“......!”

“All they care about is your research data.”

“No... no way...”

“Even as they watched children being violated, they didn’t get angry.”

His eyes quaked with misery. It was the look of a naive child whose fragile hopes had just been shattered.

That paper... had been bait? He hadn’t been able to stand alone—so he deliberately tried to draw in America? It was an unexpected revelation. But so clumsy. So innocent.

Ligai was someone who just sat waiting for a savior. But the moment you rely on others to do the saving—what you’ve made is a pact with the devil.

In the end, her husband was far too indecisive and weak to ever save Sakhalin. Let alone save it—now, his daughter was there.

“No... no... Please, tell me it’s not true...”

Ligai dropped to his knees and began pleading. He clung to her legs, shaking violently as though a chill had taken over his entire body.

Like someone who knew that if he didn’t grab onto something—he’d be swept away in a flood.

“I... I opened their heads, Zoya...”

“......!”

“I did it... I...”

His face twisted in agony. What was he saying? Ju Seolheon froze.

“I implanted chips into those children’s brains, Zoya... I opened their heads... I helped my father by creating the Mark... I submitted to God...”

“......”

“But even as I did it—I wanted them to escape. So I started with the strongest ones. I thought... if anyone survived... it would be them. They’d make it out of this hell, unlike me...”

Ligai buried his face in her lap.

“I swapped the chips. Not for control—but to store my research data.”

“......!”

“I chose the strongest kids... so the real blueprint would be buried forever... so no one could ever find where I’d hidden it... But what if—”

Ligai stared at his own hands like they were monster eyes.

“What if my child was one of them?”

Ju Seolheon couldn’t say a word to the broken man before her.

The weight of the sin was too crushing.

“Zoya... What have I done?”

His shattered voice was soaked with grief.

***

Maxim Solzhenitsyn, lord of Winter Castle, was perhaps the most famous man in Russia.

Arrogant in bearing, born to an elite path from childhood, former KGB Prime Minister, mastermind behind the Eurasia scenario—the brain of Siberia.

He was the core of the siloviki and the one who designed the youth training program himself. He had personally offered up Winter Castle—an unbending imperialist.

Some even said that it was thanks to Maxim Solzhenitsyn’s cunning that a single president had held power for so long. The mansion alone radiated the might of the Solzhenitsyn dynasty.

And we—entered that Winter Castle.

We didn’t know the name. Nor the face. Not a thing.

Ju Seolheon stepped across the snow, each foot sinking deep.

She had to save them. Every living child.

Because among them—was her own.