“I don’t get any glory riding on the backs of premature jackasses...!”

“.......”

“I’ll crawl if I have to—but I’ll get there on my own feet.”

She felt a few chilly gazes shoot toward her from around the field, but Lee Wooshin only leaned his elbow on the vehicle and let out a dry laugh.

The cold wind swept his hair across his high, sharp nose, the strands scattering in the breeze like shavings off a blade.

“Then what—want a ride from a non-premature jackass?”

“Do we even have one of those here?”

“Sure we do. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Don’t need it.”

“You’re gonna mess up your feet.”

“I haven’t run ten miles in the opposite direction yet. I’ll live.”

Her answers came back without hesitation, snapping like a whip. Lee Wooshin’s perfectly shaped brows furrowed at last.

Her whole body felt like a pile of bricks, but if she didn’t make it back in the first group, she’d be eating dinner dead last. And having experienced what that meant at lunch, Seoryeong forced strength into her buckling knees.

If you ate last, all the good side dishes were already gone—just cold rice and kimchi left.

“Hhhf...”

But her teammates had already pulled ahead, and Seoryeong was falling behind for all to see. She knew there would be a gap in stamina and physical condition, but being the only one left stung like acid in her gut.

“Pfff... hhhh—”

She finally staggered back to the training yard, slapping her hand against the goalpost and nearly collapsing against it to gasp for air. Her legs trembled so badly she had to grip the metal frame to hold herself up. Bile surged up her throat with a sickening burn. No wonder she cursed so damn much.

Then came those slow, deliberate footsteps—and a shadow fell over her.

“How many more times does Recruit Han Seoryeong need to come in last before she rings that bell?”

“Training’s only just begun.”

She straightened her back, still gasping for breath. She didn’t want to show any weakness in front of this man. Even though she knew she was a mess, dripping sweat and reeking of exhaustion, she lifted her chin.

There was a bell in the training yard. But no one had rung it yet.

And it was no secret anymore—he was waiting for her to start it. Every time he looked at it, Seoryeong scoffed inwardly.

He might’ve scolded the other recruits and humiliated them in public, but the truth was: no one in this entire place looked down on her as much as Lee Wooshin did.

It was like he thought only he had the right to beat her down. He’d sneer and mock her—but the moment anyone else crossed a line, he’d step in like it annoyed him more than anything.

At this point, she was starting to wonder if even he knew why he hated her so much.

“Han Seoryeong. You got something to fall back on?”

“...Excuse me?”

“Or are you just gritting your teeth and thinking that’ll be enough to get you through?”

“...Well. Honestly, yeah. That’s all I’ve got. Pure spite.”

She scratched her cheek. This, too, was why she always ended up on edge with him.

“You do know suffering through all this won’t bring your husband back, right? Or are you just building yourself a nice excuse to wallow in self-pity when you crash? That’s pretty useful, I’ll admit.”

See? The bastard always struck right where it hurt.

Unlike her gentle, indirect husband, Lee Wooshin read her like a glass window and had no problem saying it to her face. That was what made him so damn dangerous.

“Still... it’s easier than chasing after him without a plan.”

Holding on through pain—that was something Seoryeong could do. Maybe the only thing she was truly good at.

Maybe it was the way they always hurled shit back and forth, but for some reason, she could talk about her husband in front of Lee Wooshin without choking. She didn’t need to pretend or sugarcoat anything around him—and that, oddly enough, was a relief.

She gave a curt nod and turned to walk off.

Ugh! The second her foot touched down, her whole sole felt like it had been lit on fire. She winced.

Just two months. Just hold out for two months. Seoryeong bit the inside of her lip.

To reach Kim Hyeon—wherever he might be now, under his identity as a Black Operative—she needed to become a headache. A liability the National Intelligence Service would want to drop fast. And for that, she needed the Special Security Team.

She wanted to guard a notorious international drug lord and blow her cover. Wanted to take every rotten mission and draw Kim Hyeon to her like a moth to flame.

Which meant, naturally, she thought of CEO Kang Taegon. Just finish the training. That’s all I need. His eyes had said it—If you survive this, I’ll take care of the rest.

She limped away, dragging one foot, and that was when she heard it—a quiet, restrained sigh. The back of her neck prickled.

But Lee Wooshin neither followed her nor left.

Even as she disappeared inside the building, he didn’t make a single sound.

Dinner—cold, ruined, pathetic—was once again Seoryeong’s reward for finishing last.

Snrrrrk—snrrrrrk—

Night fell, and the room was filled with snores. Every one of the guys who’d screamed that they couldn’t share a room with a woman was now passed out cold.

After a whole day of running until their feet blistered, it only took a second of pillow contact before they were unconscious.

Seoryeong twisted restlessly in shallow sleep. Her body ached too much to sink into rest. All she could do was groan under her breath.

In this unfamiliar place, where she couldn’t trust a single person, Kim Hyeon kept surfacing in her thoughts. She buried her face in the stiff blanket, clenching her eyes tighter.

If I could just sleep once in his arms...

The craving came uninvited.

If her husband would stroke her hair just once. If he rubbed her sore limbs with those warm hands. If he kissed her and told her everything would be okay...

Seoryeong exhaled shakily through clenched lips. The longing was like scar tissue—it didn’t fade, didn’t peel away.

Thud—

Something dropped and rolled across the floor.

A second later, smoke erupted—thick, choking smoke that flooded the room in seconds.

“......!”

Her eyes snapped open.

The room was a haze. She couldn’t see anything. And without thinking, Seoryeong shouted.

“Get up—!”

She waved the smoke away, coughing violently as the sharp particles stabbed up her nose. Around her, she heard faint, muffled groans.

She tried to roll off the bed—but just as the smoke thinned for a split second, she saw it.

A black gas mask.

It loomed at her bedside, silent and still, staring down at her through that inhuman shell. Her heart plummeted. She almost screamed.

“Who—!”

Before she could even finish the word, something was jammed into her mouth.

What the fuck—?!

A gag forced into her mouth, a cloth yanked over her head, limbs yanked back and tied. It was fast, violent, precise. She couldn’t even react before it was done.

Most of the others were still asleep and went down easy. A few tried to struggle, but once they were hit with the smoke, panic overtook them.

“Mmgh, mmph—!”

Slung over someone’s shoulder, Seoryeong was dragged outside. The darkness didn’t scare her—what pissed her off was not being able to move.

She shouted through the gag—“Mmmph!”—and immediately received a hard slap to her ass. You bastard...! The past few days had been turning her into someone meaner, nastier, and this just poured gas ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) on the fire.

The cold sea wind sliced through her flimsy sleepwear. She stopped flailing and focused on listening.

Whoever was carrying her had a hard, solid torso—and was laughing.

“Tsk. You little brat.”

The deep, gravelly voice was too familiar. It made her grind her teeth.

“Mmgh...!”

Before she could picture his face, she was tossed—thrown onto something. The landing wasn’t too painful. One by one, other recruits hit the same surface with dull thuds.

The residual body heat of others around her helped a little against the cold. She was just starting to feel warmth when she heard it:

An engine rumbling to life.

“......!”

Then came the wind.

The kind of winter wind that made your skin peel, like you were being flogged. The sea breeze tore through like knives.

The cloth over her head whipped against her face, blocking her nose, forcing her to breathe through her mouth. But even with her mouth open, the gag made it hard to get any air.

This is torture. No other word for it...

She felt the rise and fall of the surface beneath her. They were at sea. A boat. They brought us onto a boat!

Just then—*fwaaaash—*waves crashed somewhere nearby.

She wriggled against her restraints again. Nearby, others gasped and choked through their gags.

Then, the engine cut.

And at once, the cloths were yanked from their heads.