Even when they called it a “rescue,” all it meant was tossing down some climbing gear.

At that moment, she raised Wooshin’s bound wrists high like a torch. Better to declare it openly while others were watching—to get quick acknowledgment. The instructors’ eyes went wide at the sight.

“Recruit Han Seoryeong.”

Lee Wooshin, who had just lifted her waist and thrown her out of his arms, suddenly grimaced and spoke. He immediately stood, picked up the gear.

“Why’re you making that face like it’s all over just because someone came to help you?”

“......!”

It was as if he’d never shared body heat with her. He snapped right back into his cold, disciplinary self.

“You know why people usually live or die in the final second?”

He clipped the climbing rope to her harness, fastened metal spikes to the soles of her boots, and shoved an ice tool into her hand as he spoke.

Seoryeong looked into the eyes of the instructor whose former hostility had drained away.

“Because they don’t have the strength to take even one more step.”

“.......”

“That’s why we bust our asses through training while getting paid with someone else’s money. So we can learn to take that one step, even when it feels like death. So tell me, what should you do here?”

His gaze lingered on her lips for just a beat before falling away.

“From here on, Recruit Han Seoryeong climbs up alone.”

“What...!”

“You should get into the habit of saving your own damn life.”

He swiftly unraveled the wire from her wrist, pulled off his coat, and threw it at her. It had been a disaster zone just moments ago—now, somehow, it had become training.

He yanked Jin Hoje’s jacket without permission and started scaling the ice wall.

Jin Hoje frowned, then smoothed his sun-browned forehead and muttered, “Obey orders... obey orders...” under his breath. But like a veteran, he moved fast. He leaned toward Wooshin, murmured something, but the gusting snowstorm swallowed his words before they reached anyone else.

In the blink of an eye, Seoryeong was alone. She fumbled to strike the ice wall with the tool. Even amid the struggle, that smooth, low voice echoed faintly.

“Better break her down until she’s sobbing now...”

You won’t die just because I’m gone.

Wooshin didn’t look back even once before reaching the edge of the cliff.

Each time she slammed the ice tool upward, shards of shattered ice flew into her face. Jin Hoje occasionally glanced down at her straggling behind, but only gave her a helpless expression—he never offered any help either.

Sometimes he opened his mouth to say something, glancing between her and Wooshin, but a loud “Achoo—!” always interrupted and rendered it useless.

After climbing for hours, clawing her way up with everything she had, Seoryeong collapsed flat on the ground. Her wrists felt like the ligaments had stretched beyond repair, her body completely spent from the last drops of moisture being wrung out.

Even on an empty stomach, a dry retch crawled up her throat—just as a smooth face suddenly hovered upside-down in her vision.

She’d thought he’d just left her there.

“Good work.”

Wooshin knelt beside her, staring down with a blank expression.

Seoryeong didn’t have the strength to lift a finger, but she grabbed his wrist right away. The man simply smiled with his mouth and gave her forehead a hard flick.

“One operative got stabbed, another fell. This quarter’s reproductive training ends two days early. Among all the operatives, you’re the only one who took down an instructor, Han Seoryeong.”

“......!”

“Congratulations. When you return to the company, you’ll be officially assigned to the Special Security Team.”

The moment the words came directly from Wooshin’s mouth, her chest inflated like a balloon. The endless moments of rage and cursing that had burst out without passing through her brain flashed before her eyes like a reel.

She’d wondered more than once if she’d been reckless to the point of suicide, but she’d never imagined the reward would be this sweet.

Then, with a meaningfully narrowed gaze, Wooshin pinched and jostled her torn, scabbed lips as if to tease her.

“What’ll you do now? Recruit Han Seoryeong has no choice but to obey me.”

“What...?”

“On the field, my word is law. How exactly do you, a rookie, plan to act out?”

“......!”

“If you defy me even once, there won’t be a second chance.”

He squeezed her lips hard before letting go and stood up. His downward gaze, sharp as a blade, pierced into her body that seemed to have melted into the earth.

“Of course, your behavior will have restrictions. You’ll be expected to keep annoying promises, too.”

Wait a second—this...

Seoryeong pushed herself up with effort, tightening her abs to sit upright.

Didn’t I already reject that line back in the infirmary?

"Instructor, how am I supposed to take your hand without knowing what orders you’ll give? It feels like a leash. I don’t want restrictions on my actions. I hate being forced to keep promises."

“Right. How do you know what kind of order I’ll give—and you just grabbed my hand?”

“......!”

“Too bad, Recruit Han Seoryeong.”

She stared blankly at his retreating back. Her lips, once grabbed and released, throbbed in unjust pain.

Haah... She shook out her hair with an irritated flick. She had won. She’d passed the test.

And yet the feeling wouldn’t go away—like she’d been swallowed whole into the jaws of a shark.

And that was the end of it.

Even when saying goodbye to the instructors she'd come to loathe and miss, even as the bus rolled away from the damn camp—Wooshin didn’t show his face once.

When Seoryeong reflexively glanced around, teammates came over and clapped her on the shoulder.

“We heard about that bastard Seong Wookchan.”

Right. What ever happened to that asshole?

But no matter who she asked, no one could clearly say what punishment he got or where he ended up.

And with that, the brutal ten-week ordeal came to a final close.

***

Beep, beep, beep.

Her fingers hesitated awkwardly over the digital door lock. It had been a while. She pressed the last number carefully and adjusted the bundle of bright yellow freesias in her arms.

“I’m home.”

As she opened the front door, her gaze went straight to the framed wedding photo. It was bare, brittle, like a skeleton that should’ve been thrown out long ago.

Even so, she smiled brightly and greeted it. Her chest always turned cold when she saw it—but today, for once, she was glad the photo inside was missing.

She’d been ready to resort to any method, no matter how depraved, just to find Kim Hyeon.

But now, her lips twitching with a scab, the absurdity of it made her cough.

And then, just as the blank frame started to fill—like a sketched memory—with the cliffside and the storm that raged across it...

Seoryeong grimaced. Her bag slipped from her shoulder and hit the floor with a thud.

“What kind of bitch...!”

Right then, there was a crash from inside, and the door flew open. Just two months ago it had been a clean little room—now it was black and green, lit only by glowing computer monitors.

The young face that spotted her twisted in horror.

“Eek...! What the hell happened to your face—what kind of wreck are you?!”

“Congrats on your recovery.”

Seoryeong extended the bouquet without flinching. Channa took the yellow freesias in a daze, her voice unchanged.

“What’s with your busted lips, and what the hell are those claw marks all over your face! Which thug slashed you up so bad the middle of your cheek caved in, and why are your eyes so damn sunken?! Don’t tell me they didn’t even feed you?!”

“Hmm...”

“And your nose is red and all scraped up! You have any idea how deadly winter UV rays are? You didn’t even put on sunscreen, did you?!”

The only thing she’d applied during training was swamp mud and camouflage paste.

“And your arm—what is this muscle?!”

Channa gawked, running her hand along Seoryeong’s forearm. Seoryeong, just to mess with the kid, flexed each time her fingers brushed down. Channa’s eyes went wide in awe.

“This... this isn’t the kind of skill I was expecting...”

Her face turned oddly sulky.

“You should be the one recovering, unnie. I can’t accept this. My conscience is screaming.”

She tried to hand the bouquet back, but Seoryeong slipped past her into the little room.

Until the company called again, all operatives were granted ten days of recovery leave.

Seoryeong hummed to herself as she looked around the space, now a perfect little workshop. It was something she’d planned during long phone calls with Channa.

“You’re not going to get hurt, Channa. All you have to do is—”

“Sigh...”

Channa sighed, clearly scandalized, as Seoryeong smiled faintly.

“Just pin it on me using my home IP.”

“How can I do that to the person who saved my life...”

“You said you’d be the grateful magpie that pays back its debt, remember?”

“I did say that...! But why am I suddenly the North Korean bitch in this story?!”

The hottest news these days was about the 5 billion won severance paid to the son of ex-lawmaker Park Gwangdu.

This “Mr. Park,” a man in his thirties, was the nephew-in-law of the current First Lady—which meant the President and the ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ ex-lawmaker were tied by marriage.

And the NIS—the very organization Seoryeong was targeting—was a direct organ of the presidency. If that 5 billion vanished, it’d be obvious whose pants the nation would cling to.

“I’ve waited long enough. Time to get arrested again.”

So you aim for the relatives. That’s how psychological warfare works—

You always start by breaking the family.