An exotic song flowed from the radio.

In Russia’s Dagestan region, Azerbaijani was spoken, and Seoryeong, thinking of the vicious bear and the children, picked out a few familiar words.

Beyond the car window, wide expanses of rock and red semi-desert stretched endlessly past, but even as he sped up, Lee Wooshin had been silent for some time.

After spending about seventeen hours in airports and on planes, they had arrived in Azerbaijan.

On the plane, while she had sat with her eyes closed in fatigue, he had draped a blanket over her, but that only made her nerves sharpen.

Blast Corp, the company she belonged to, seemed to be on the verge of disbanding. She had witnessed firsthand the murder scene of a high-ranking NIS official, and yet no one was chasing them.

And the person who fired the gun...

“Haa...”

Her partner hadn’t changed in the slightest. That was as troublesome as it was bitter in her mouth.

She wanted to ask Wooshin what Deputy Director Ju Seolheon had been thinking, spiriting them away almost as if protecting them—but now was not the right time.

He was hiding the fact that he was with the NIS, and if that was the case, she couldn’t be the first to act like she knew.

At least, not now.

Ju Seolheon’s strange connection with Ligai, and Kiya watching them from above—this was something she thought she would have to ask Kiya himself.

Those endless thoughts clogged her head, but from the moment she had boarded the plane—or more precisely, from the moment the land had shrunk to the size of a fingernail—everything began to feel unimportant.

Her ears were dulled from defying gravity, and the jagged swings of her emotions began to settle. Everything frantic had already blurred like a dream.

She fiddled with the rosary Ligai had forced onto her wrist. A bracelet of beads as clear as glass.

Thinking of it as something belonging to the dead, it wouldn’t have been strange to take it off immediately, but surprisingly, she didn’t feel that urge. Counting each bead one by one brought her an odd sense of calm.

“Instructor, don’t we...”

Propping her chin against the window, Seoryeong suddenly spoke.

“Don’t we look just like fugitives?”

“What?”

“Like people running away after committing a crime.”

“......”

“In the movies, bad guys always run like this. Then they get unlucky and get caught by a police car chasing them for a traffic stop.”

She deliberately looked back, but there was no suspicious car. With a small shrug of disappointment, she caught Wooshin, who had been lost in other thoughts since the plane, letting out a quiet chuckle. The slight curve of his eyes drew her gaze—it felt like the first «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» time she had seen him smile in a while.

“So... how are we going to make a living now?”

“Worried about getting your hands dirty?”

“Honestly, we quit without any sort of plan...! What about the Special Security Team members? They’re not going to end up in prison or something, right?”

“If they’re unlucky.”

“Haa...”

She pressed her forehead to the window, and his gaze rested on her.

“Tell me—do I look like someone with no money?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“When I first came to Korea, I did struggle with money, but I’ve never once thought I truly had none.”

“...Is that, like, some kind of mental victory?”

She asked with distaste, and the corner of his mouth rose smoothly. He didn’t seem inclined to explain further, simply turning the wheel with an easy hand. Watching him, Seoryeong found it odd how natural he looked in a foreign country.

“Instructor, have you been here before?”

“I have.”

At the unexpected answer, her eyes widened.

“This is a war zone. There was an old territorial dispute that led to civil war with Armenia, which then escalated into a full-scale war. It’s a ceasefire now, but small skirmishes still break out.”

Seoryeong simply nodded.

“They’ve broken three ceasefire agreements and still fire short-range missiles. So when you suddenly suggested coming here for a honeymoon, I really—”

Just how long do I have to keep letting you win? Wooshin shook his head, looking at her.

But despite his scolding tone, there was a deep, carefully hidden warmth in the slightly softened eyes.

“Did it really have to be here? Even the opposing country had to mobilize female soldiers and boy soldiers.”

She was suddenly certain that if the Sakhalin monastery and Winter Castle were still standing, they would have been sold off into this war as well. Pushing away the dimness in her thoughts, she said:

“They call this the land of God’s fire.”

“God’s what?”

“They say eternal flames rise over the hills. That it’s the cradle of humanity, inhabited for 400,000 years. The flames never go out—rain or snow, no matter what. Isn’t that amazing? I wanted to see it with you.”

“That’s just gas. Methane, sulfur, and oxygen fusing naturally—”

“......”

When she stared at him silently, Wooshin broke into loud laughter. Seoryeong pinched her ear for no reason, then opened the window. The wind whipped her long hair, and to her surprise, the sky was clear and cloudless.

***

The house on the outskirts was set in a semi-desert region far from the capital.

The moment they arrived at the converted historic building that served as a guesthouse, the smell of local food washed over them.

In one corner of the yard, skewers of lamb were roasting, and inside a deep, pit-like hearth, rows of appetizing kebabs were cooking.

As they unloaded their luggage from the trunk, they looked over the arched terraces. Round and white, reminiscent of the Shirvanshah Palace.

In the front yard, where clusters of purple wisteria were in full bloom, Seoryeong planned to hold a modest ceremony. They would gaze at a sunset as red as flowing blood, speak of eternity, and share a kiss of vows.

Even Wooshin, who had at first been unenthusiastic about the destination, twitched his brows as if conceding it wasn’t bad—quiet, exotic, and surrounded by nature.

“Welcome—!”

The hostess, with her graying hair and warm demeanor, ran over and greeted them in clumsy English. When they gave the name on the reservation, she exclaimed, “So you’re the couple who’s getting married...!” and immediately hugged them. She was the lively woman who had shouted over the phone that she’d gladly let them use the beautiful yard.

“But, ma’am, what’s that smell?”

“Oh, is the kebab smell unfamiliar—”

“No, not that—”

Seoryeong’s expression hardened as she looked around. It felt as though a shadow had fallen across her forehead, and when she looked up, she locked eyes with large birds of prey, beaks wide open. Their wings were so broad and soft that there was almost no sound as they flew.

“Oh my.”

The hostess glanced at her in surprise.

“Do you... perhaps smell a corpse?”

“A corpse?”

Seoryeong lifted a brow.

“Because this is the outskirts, there’s a community of Zoroastrians living nearby.”

At first, the hostess spoke in halting English, then began mixing in Russian. Seoryeong’s ears perked, but she turned her head as if she hadn’t understood. Wooshin translated for her.

But what could that have to do with a corpse? Seeing her baffled expression, Wooshin smoothed her messy hair and continued.

“It’s an ancient religion that flourished in Central Asia. They consider fire sacred, so they neither cremate nor bury the dead. They believe corpses pollute fire and earth. So they favor sky burial.”

“Sky burial?”

“Letting birds eat the body.”

“......!”

“They place the bodies on a hill, and vultures gather.”

Ugh—her face twisted.

“They believe the birds carry the dead to the next world.”

I heard it’s banned now, but it looks like they do it in secret. Wooshin gazed toward the low hill and murmured.

“I feel bad for the newlyweds. A lot of the guests here are people attending the funerals. Will it bother you?”

“No, it’s fine.”

Seoryeong looked at the birds of prey perched in the trees with an unreadable gaze. They moved their long necks with keen alertness, then opened their beaks and let out piercing cries—loud enough to make her ears ring. The hostess covered her mouth and whispered:

“They say if the right eye is eaten first, the person goes to paradise; if the left eye, they fall to hell.”

For some reason, hearing that made her think of Deputy Director Ju Seolheon and Ligai.

The hostess handed over the keys, introduced them to their room, and told them to rest comfortably.

Soon after, Seoryeong laid her suitcase open on the bed and stared for a long time at the white dress she had brought from home. Meanwhile, Wooshin, having immediately begun checking the corners of the ceiling, under the bed, and even inside the kettle, heard her speak as if she’d come to a decision.

“I’m going to change to a black dress.”

The rosary bracelet clinked.