“—Wooshin. The Mongolian Commissioner for Economic Development was found dead an hour ago.”

The voice came through his earpiece just as he was about to step out of the room, and he froze in place.

Lee Wooshin had just wrapped up a dreaded company dinner with Blast Corp’s senior management. He was feeling liberated—finally free from the grueling social obligation.

Throughout the evening, under the guise of assisting inebriated executives to their cars, he had repeatedly inserted and removed a hacking tool—the Poison Tap—from their phones.

And now, with both hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat, he was walking down the dim hallway.

“The Mongolian Economic Development Commissioner?”

That man had flown in for the rare earth MOU. Wasn’t it rookies like Han Seoryeong who’d been dispatched to the event site? He even recalled that the Commissioner had requested personal protection from Blast Corp.

And yet now he was dead...

“—Official cause is cardiac arrest. But we’re treating it as assassination.”

He checked his watch. Already past midnight. Han Seoryeong, who had surely finished her duties by now, hadn’t so much as checked in with a call or report.

Her lack of needless friendliness toward others was, in some ways, praiseworthy. But her rigidity? That was something else entirely. Wooshin frowned in disapproval.

“—Mongolia entering a rare earth agreement with us was already a move to break away from Russia’s grip. But the Commissioner acting independently? Rumor has it he’d become a real thorn in Russia’s side.”

“If it was cardiac arrest, then they probably used potassium chloride.”

Wooshin closed his eyes and massaged the tension from the back of his neck.

“They won’t find anything even after the autopsy.”

“—Exactly. Blast Corp can wash their hands with a payout, but NIS has to handle the aftermath. It’s a damn mess.” 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

From the other end of the line came the flick and flare of a Zippo lighter, followed by the faint sound of a cigarette burning.

“Do we have a suspect?”

“—Hoo... yeah. There’s a group who had the same travel path from the airport to the Seoul Hotel...”

“Go on.”

“—Name’s Kiya. Twenty-eight. Third-generation Koryoin. Currently a priest with the Russian Orthodox Church.”

Wooshin’s expression blanked out completely.

The Russian Orthodox Church was a state-run religious body, deeply entangled with political power. Having once lived in that world himself, his nape went cold.

“—The tricky part is, he’s not officially ordained. Academia considers him heretical.”

Orthodoxy was one of the oldest and most rigid Christian denominations. True to its age, it had established majestic branches across the world—Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, Jerusalem... and Moscow.

And the one place that the Ecumenical Patriarchate had steadfastly refused to recognize as legitimate—

“—He’s from the Sakhalin branch.”

Wooshin’s face hardened like stone.

Of all places—Sakhalin.

That branch was widely shunned for its rootlessness, violent tendencies, and religious fanaticism.

In particular, Sakhalin’s founding patriarch had once preached that dying in war absolved all sins—and openly colluded with the then-fractured Soviet Union.

With full backing from the USSR, the Sakhalin church had grown rapidly.

To this day, no one knew exactly how they had wormed their way into the military. But one thing was certain—the founding patriarch of Sakhalin had been Korean.

Black hair. Black eyes...

Even the children Wooshin had seen in Winter Castle had all been Korean.

Colorful masks. The rusty, clanking sound of an old carousel. Overgrown swings. An abandoned unicycle...

As these images passed through his mind, a cold frost crept across his features.

“—That’s Kiya’s official identity. But here’s the real problem...”

The Deputy Director’s voice dropped, now weighted with a suppressed, forceful breath.

“—There’s a chance he’s a Class-1 Boogeyman.”

Wooshin, mid-stride, stopped cold.

“—You remember those agents of ours who went abroad a few months back and didn’t return?”

“I do.”

You practically drilled into my molars over it, he thought dryly. And thanks to that, I had to go undercover in Blast Corp to fill their gap. Of course I remember.

“—It’s just a theory, but we believe he’s the one who took them out. The intel community’s been sharing stats across agencies for years now, and here’s the kicker—three out of every ten field agents who died went out from cardiac arrest.”

“...”

“Boogeyman” was insider slang for an assassin who exclusively targeted intelligence agents.

“—We’re in no position to poke Russia first. Tomorrow’s official statement will just say the Commissioner died of sudden cardiac arrest. Be careful, Wooshin. The most plausible assumption is that agent data has already leaked to the Russians.”

Only then did Wooshin realize what this call had really been about. A warning.

“Have I ever been safe?”

He # Nоvеlight # replied with a wry smirk.

Outside the bar, he handed his car keys to the waiting valet driver.

And just then, the Deputy Director’s previously sharp tone unexpectedly softened.

“—By the way, Owl made contact with him too.”

“...!”

“—Nothing serious. They just briefly crossed paths in the same space.”

The second he heard that, a curse boiled up inside him. Though he’d drunk heavily, not a trace of intoxication dulled the shock—his reason staggered.

The alcohol that hadn’t affected him all evening now surged through his blood, heating his veins.

Working in the defense sector meant constant exposure to unthinkable risks.

He’d wanted to cast Han Seoryeong out, but in the end he hadn’t. He’d taken her in. He thought that if he trained her hard enough, interfered enough, she’d gain at least a minimal safety net.

“—But a few of Blast’s security staff were killed too. That’s going to stir things up over there.”

But maybe that, too, had been arrogant. Hearing that she’d encountered a high-risk individual while he wasn’t around made his gut twist violently.

It was like a control switch had suddenly snapped inside—rage flared without warning.

He yanked at his collar like he was tearing off an invisible necktie. His mouth went dry from the urgency that crashed into him without warning.

He wanted to get Han Seoryeong far away from here. But Kim Hyeon—always Kim Hyeon—was the problem.

“—Wooshin... you need to wrap up that infiltration mission ahead of schedule.”

Yes. He needed to make her abandon that obsession with Kim Hyeon as soon as possible.

So she could see just how foolish that belief really was. But Han Seoryeong still acted like a blind woman—still wouldn’t open her eyes.

As Wooshin climbed into the backseat, he closed and reopened his blurry eyes.

He was no longer even listening to the Deputy Director’s words.

His head sank into the firm seatback, and a dull sigh escaped his lips. Before he knew it, his face had gone completely cold.

***

Han Seoryeong woke up in the middle of the night.

She had passed out the moment she got home from work.

Her throat was parched. Groaning, she shoved off the blanket and sat up.

One thing she always appreciated—especially in moments like this, waking up in the dark—was how easy it was to navigate the house without opening her sleepy eyes.

Dragging her dry bare feet across the floor, she shuffled toward the kitchen.

She blindly grabbed a cup, filled it with filtered water, and gulped it down.

Then, just as she was about to head back to the bedroom—

“Ah...!”

Her body slammed into something large and solid.

Her drowsiness vanished in an instant.

When she opened her eyes wide, she saw Lee Wooshin standing there, rigid as a dead tree.

Her lips, which had parted in surprise, shut tightly at once.

This was the first time they’d stood face-to-face since that night.

Pretending not to notice the awkwardness required far more effort than she expected.

“...What are you doing here?”

He just stood there, frozen in place in front of the wall.

It wasn’t clear whether he’d just come in from outside, or if he hadn’t changed out of his clothes all this time.

Lee Wooshin was staring—of course—at the empty wedding photo frame.

“I couldn’t sleep thinking about taking you on that business trip.”

Only then did he start to move, expression deep in thought.

He took off his coat and unbuckled his wristwatch.

“It’s too quiet in this house.”

He ran a hand down his face and asked flatly.

Seoryeong wrinkled her nose and sniffed.

What was that... smell?

“Did you drink?”

The faint trace of alcohol caught her off guard. She asked with exaggerated surprise.

His eyes, still sharp but just a bit loosened, curved slowly—as if to say good guess.

Leaning one shoulder against the wall, the man began looking down at her.

His gaze landed heavily on her limbs, pressing in with a thick weight.

Trying to dodge it, she asked:

“You’re that busy?”

“I am.”

“Because of that Equatorial Guinea trip?”

“There’s a lot I have to put off—not just Special Briefing Team work.”

“...”

“You have no idea how much dogs**t goes on in this world.”

Something about that tone—blunt, almost mocking—caught in her ears.

It felt like he was sneering at her just now.

But Lee Wooshin turned away without a care and went back to staring at the empty frame.

He had this habit sometimes—gazing at the blank wall with an unreadable expression.

She’d lost count of how many times she’d seen him do it.

His eyes would linger there and then drift away, again and again.

At this point, she figured she might as well just ask.

“You’re curious, aren’t you? Why that frame is empty?”

“...”

Lee Wooshin said nothing.

Whether that meant yes or no, he didn’t show a hint of reaction.

Like he’d never cared about the frame in the first place, he asked something completely out of the blue:

“Did you clip your nails?”

“...Huh?”

What the hell kind of random-ass question was that?

Seoryeong blinked at him, suddenly wondering if he was drunker than she thought.

Then—bam—he grabbed her wrist, and her hand was yanked right up in front of his face.