—Yes, go ahead.

The breath she’d been holding shattered, erupting violently from her throat as her vision trembled. She had to say it. She had to say it now. But her breathing came too fast, too shallow, and dizziness surged through her.

“Dead... someone’s dead.”

—......

There was no reply for a moment. That silence stretched on, feeling infinite.

Then he spoke, like he was confirming what he thought couldn’t be real.

—...Han Seoryeong?

It was the voice of someone who couldn’t understand why he was hearing her, of all people.

“Yes... Han Seoryeong. This is Han Seoryeong.”

Her head was a mess. She didn’t know where to start or what to say first. Gasping for breath, she yanked hard on her own hair to snap herself awake.

“An employee... the employees are dead.”

—...What?

“They’re all dead.”

Seoryeong looked around the chillingly silent room.

“But Channa’s not here. She’s missing. She’s gone.”

—......

She was the one who’d been cleaning their rooms for the past few days. If something was off, she would’ve noticed. Seoryeong scanned the room again, checking for anything out of place.

“There’s no blood, no sign of a struggle. The sheets are just... curled, like someone slipped out from under them. No scent, either. The rooms with the bodies had this strong perfume smell but here...”

She stopped mid-sentence.

“The shared kitchen...”

She had gotten up, parched in the middle of the night—maybe Channa had too, maybe she got up to get water after they ate ramen.

If it was just a matter of crossed paths, then the intruder was probably searching for Channa right now.

The thought hit her like a stone dropping from her chest.

There wasn’t any time.

“And I think... I think the intruder is still inside the motel.”

That was when Lee Wooshin finally responded—in the same calm, detached tone.

—Then Hur Channa will most likely be killed.

“......!”

Wait. What did he just...? Seoryeong’s pale face crumpled in shock.

—To be blunt, Han Seoryeong, you’re probably going to be killed too.

“......!”

—Witnesses don’t get to live.

A chill slid down her back like a knife of ice. What... what was she even hearing?

—Still not getting it? How exactly do you plan to escape a trained assassin?

“......”

—So listen carefully.

Suddenly, his voice dropped, harsh enough to make her fine hairs stand on end.

—There’s a handgun under my bed. The door’s locked, but if you hit the knob hard with something heavy, it’ll break fast. But the second you make a sound, you’ll give away your position.

“......!”

—I’m sorry, but do it anyway.

Her mouth was dry, and her eyes trembled. But Lee Wooshin didn’t pause.

—The gun comes first. Are you listening?

“......”

Seoryeong nodded quickly, but her voice wouldn’t come.

—Get a grip. Even if we floor it right now, the best we can do is collect your corpse. If you want to survive, run now!

He shouted it like a slap across the face. And as if that was a starting gun, Seoryeong took off running.

The door to his room stood tall like a wall. She kicked it—once, twice—CRACK. The knob shattered on the second kick.

She dove under the bed, reaching toward the frame. Her fingertips brushed something heavy. Cold metal.

“I found it...!”

She sprang to her feet, about to rush toward the shared kitchen—

Then froze as she heard his voice again.

—Then leave Hur Channa behind and get out.

He said it flatly, like he was discussing the weather.

—That’s the only way you survive, Han Seoryeong.

Her foot halted midstep. Paralyzed.

Her face, pale with terror, twisted with fury as she clenched her fist.

The scariest part—she understood his logic completely.

His ruthless reasoning made sense. And more terrifyingly, she found herself agreeing.

Maybe she really wouldn’t make it out.

She’d already seen two corpses.

And it shook her.

—People who are weak and stubborn die. I call it a pointless death.

“......”

—You don’t even get to hesitate. You can’t afford that luxury right now.

His voice led her. If she just followed his instructions, she wouldn’t have to think. Wouldn’t have to feel.

—I'm the Special Security Division team leader. I command this site. You will follow my orders. I’m saying it one last time—leave Hur Channa behind and get out {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} of that building.

Yes. Like this.

Just like now, where the guilt fell away so easily.

But—

“No. I don’t want to.”

Seoryeong tore free of the mental trap like ripping off shackles, and sprinted toward the shared kitchen.

The suffocating temptation clinging to her fell away as her feet pounded forward.

Instinct was one thing. Abandoning Channa was something else entirely.

—Han Seoryeong!

Wooshin’s furious voice tore through the earpiece.

—You trying to die? You gonna be stubborn and get yourself killed?

“No...!”

—I told you—I’ve seen enough idiots die because they wasted time thinking! Get out now, you dumb fuck!

Seoryeong’s breathing came in ragged gasps. She didn’t even know why she was so angry. Maybe it was the way he ordered her to toss someone aside like it was nothing.

“Don’t leave me...! No matter what, don’t you dare leave me behind...!”

Her voice trembled like grinding teeth, desperate and fierce. Then, silence.

She knew exactly why Lee Wooshin’s coldness struck something deep inside her.

Because her beloved husband had left her. Just... disappeared. Without explanation. Without a word.

This was about that. The wound that never healed.

Maybe this was reckless. Maybe she really would die.

But she didn’t want to surrender to the tidy, rational way Wooshin had framed it.

If people could be discarded that easily, what right did she have to resent Kim Hyun for leaving?

If Hyun had his own overwhelming reasons... reasons big enough to justify abandoning her...

Then what was she supposed to do with her pain?

She had wanted—desperately wanted—that man to choose her. To defy reason, to love her past all logic. To be the fool who never let go.

Seoryeong swallowed the sob rising in her throat.

“I have to tell him... someday. I have to say it in front of my husband.”

—......

“This is how I feel. This is how I live.”

—......

“I couldn’t let anything go. I couldn’t let you go.”

So she had to prove it first.

She wouldn’t abandon someone. Wouldn’t let go first. Not even in the face of death.

She wanted him to see that. To recognize her thirst—for life, for love—for what it was.

—I’ve seen tons of idiots like you. Get all emotional, act like you’re the only bleeding heart in the world. They’re all dead now.

He finally spoke. His voice was low, muttering between clenched teeth, a smirk audible in the curl of his words.

Heartless though he sounded, somehow it didn’t offend her.

Right now, she needed that voice.

“Then I’ll be the first.”

—......!

“The first one to survive despite all that.”

She couldn’t see him—but she could imagine the look on his face.

Probably scowling. Probably hating this.

Seoryeong didn’t look back.

She ran straight for the shared kitchen.

The gun was heavy in her hand. Her legs trembled. But her mind—clear as ice.

She had no intention of dying here.

Not when she hadn’t even found Kim Hyun yet.

This wasn’t reckless. This wasn’t stupid.

She simply wasn’t afraid of pain. And she knew she wouldn’t give up first.

Then—finally—she found the door she’d grown so familiar with over the past few days.

She shoved it open.

The instant she did, a foul, thick stench punched her in the nose. It clung to her nasal cavity, sticky and sickening.

“――Ah... ahh...”

A groan slipped from her throat.

Channa was sprawled on the floor, limbs limp, eyes glassy as she looked up weakly.

Seoryeong rushed to her, dropping to her knees, trying to press down on the blood gushing from her neck.

No. No, no, no. This can’t happen. Don’t die.

A thread-thin gasp escaped her lips.

Channa moved her mouth urgently, trying to say something. But only wheezing air came out.

“Run...”

“Hang in there, Channa. Just hold on...!”

“R...run!”

Channa sobbed the word and pushed hard against Seoryeong’s arm.