Channa, recognizing her voice, stayed silent for a moment—then screamed like a bolt of lightning.

—Unniya, you’re alive...! The Blast Corporation freighter is a total warzone—!

“I planted the tracker!”

At that urgent sentence, the other end of the line fell silent. The faint sound of sniffling and sharp breath was followed by a shift—Channa’s tone hardened instantly, even over the phone.

—Just hold on a second.

Seoryeong took off running with everything she had. She didn’t know exactly where she was, but she had a gut certainty she could catch up. Her stomach cramped from hunger, and the sudden sunlight gave her vertigo, but the harder it got, the more strength she found in her thighs.

—He’s on the move...! That bastard’s moving now!

“Where? Where is he going?”

—We’re tracking his location in tandem with this number! I’ll give you coordinates!

“Hurry, Channa...! He might’ve already changed clothes by now...!”

Her heart felt like it was going to explode. Strangely, her legs felt light as feathers.

But if she hesitated even for a second, she knew the blinking red dot on Channa’s monitor might vanish for good. Panting hard, she didn’t slow down for a moment.

—...Unni, are you walking right now?

“No—huff—running—huff—why?”

—At that speed, you’ll never catch the bastard! Ride something, anything!

Following Channa’s direction, she darted her eyes around and spotted cars speeding down the street. But there wasn’t a taxi in sight—and she didn’t have money. Stealing someone’s car wasn’t going to work either.

Frustrated, Seoryeong clutched her hair and scanned her surroundings again and again. Worst case, maybe she could hitch a ride on a delivery truck. Her legs, taut with tension, refused to stop moving.

“That, that woman—! She’s the bitch who stole my phone!”

With a thunderous roar, the same motorbike from before came roaring back, this time with a police cruiser in tow. The young man from earlier clung to the cruiser’s window, loudly pleading his case.

“Look, I told you—she’s a fugitive or something! Look at her wrists, the handcuff—!”

Seoryeong looked down at the handcuff still dangling like a bracelet from her wrist. Ah... The agents had removed the cuffs, but in her haste to bolt out the door, one had gotten stuck and come out with her.

Two officers got out of the car, hands moving toward their belts—reaching for radios? Batons? Their eyes were full of suspicion.

Her gaze dropped to their utility vests—on them hung the exact same model of handcuffs as hers.

Same model meant same key. Hiding her calculations, she approached them obediently.

—If you’re gonna do it, do it now! That piece of shit bastard is still moving! Based on the tracking log, he stayed put in your sector for a while, then ducked into some redevelopment zone, then suddenly came near Blast Corp’s perimeter—what the hell is he doing?! Now he’s speeding down the main expressway—we’re gonna lose him at this rate!

Channa was shouting frantically in her ear. Seoryeong’s urgency surged, but she forced a calm expression and edged a little closer to the police car.

“Ma’am, can I get your name?”

The officers pulled out their PDAs, boxing her in as if to demand identification.

Seoryeong hesitated, then in a split-second changed her expression and slammed the back of one officer’s head against the car. As he stumbled, she snatched the cuff key and made a break for it—only to get struck hard across the back.

“Ugh...!”

She didn’t stop. She struck back, targeting vital points and landing multiple punches.

She hadn’t wanted to do this. But when she thought about how to catch Kim Hyun, she always ended up crossing lines she didn’t mean to.

Even so, she bowed her head with an expression like stone.

“I’m really sorry. I’ll return the phone and the car, I swear. My name is Han Seoryeong. You can check my ID.”

“Ugh... c-call for backup...”

“I’m sorry for interfering with your work, but I can’t explain the whole story right now...!”

As one officer reached for his taser, Seoryeong dove into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. The biker just stood there, mouth agape.

She floored the gas and yanked the steering wheel. Listening to Channa’s directions over the phone, her heart pounded like a runaway engine. With Channa shouting “Left turn! Right turn!” she charged forward, eyes locked on the road.

Vrooooom—! But in the side mirror, she spotted the motorbike again—somehow, it had caught up.

“Shit...!”

Her mouth was dry with thirst. Her vision blurred in layers. But she couldn’t stop now.

She jerked the wheel hard, crossing the center line again and again in a desperate bid to shake him.

Horn blasts shrieked all around her. As she barely cut into another lane [N O V E L I G H T] and pulled ahead, Channa screamed:

—Sehwa Hospital! I think the destination is Sehwa Hospital!

Her chest went cold. That was where the entire special security unit was hospitalized...

Was this really a coincidence? Her grip on the wheel tightened as her footing felt like it would collapse beneath her.

—He’s going up and down, but still inside the hospital!

“......”

—Unni, you think he’s injured or something?

It was like driving a car with no brakes. No—it wasn’t that she couldn’t stop. If she wanted to, she could slam the brakes at any time. And yet, the suffocating pressure that told her there’s no turning back now wrapped her like a seatbelt.

Finally, she yanked the wheel and pulled the car to the shoulder. Her hands shook. The hospital in the distance somehow looked terrifying.

—Unni, was that the brakes I heard...?

“No... I’m fine... haah...”

Seoryeong gritted her teeth and refocused. Using the stolen key, she finally unlocked the handcuffs and stepped out of the car. Drawing attention would only hurt her.

Especially now—when she needed to identify Kim Hyun, likely disguised, hidden among strangers.

Clutching the phone, she started up the sloped road toward the hospital.

—You’re exactly 500 meters away...!

With every step, the distance closed. Listening to Channa's live updates, she lengthened her stride, even though her body wanted to turn and run. The contradiction inside her wasn’t something she could name.

—Now 100 meters...! Head for the rear entrance!

As she neared the hospital, she picked up speed again. Her throat was so dry it tasted like blood, her lungs felt ready to burst. The distance to Kim Hyun: 90, 80, 70... steadily shrinking.

If she kept running like this, she felt she could catch him. When had she last felt this?

Ah... right.

That time at the training base, chasing after Instructor-nim on the snowy mountain. Even with nothing in her stomach and her vision spinning, she had chased that bell sound across the snow.

—Unni, go straight...! Twenty meters left—!

But... can I really see Kim Hyun’s real face?

If I do... I’ll realize, to my bones, that “Kim Hyun” was just a manufactured identity by the NIS.

Maybe it’s wiser to bury love with love.

No. That’s bullshit...!

She bit her inner cheek hard and sprinted past the familiar hospital architecture.

—Five meters...! You’re directly aligned! He’s right in front of you!

Goosebumps of elation ran up her arms, her legs trembling. But then—funeral wreaths, big and white as snowflakes, lined her vision and blocked her path. She licked her lips in mounting frustration.

—Do you see him, Unni? Did you find him?

Staff were hauling wreaths bigger than their own bodies. The funeral flowers were so thick and white, she couldn’t see what lay beyond.

Seoryeong rose to her toes, trying to glimpse through the gaps. Then, between rows of chrysanthemums, a man appeared—faintly.

—There’s no mistaking it! You’re lined up directly!

Channa’s voice buzzed in her ear, but it felt far away. The people around her seemed to freeze. Even the ambient noise stretched out like sticky taffy. Her senses—sight, hearing—felt like they’d broken down.

Because otherwise...

What nightmare could be worse than this? A cold shudder wrapped around her.

This... can’t be real. Seoryeong blinked in stunned disbelief.

Channa... Are you sure... that man right in front of me... is the red dot?

Her face went pale, but no voice came out.

“――”

Through the cluster of white chrysanthemums, she saw a man in a wheelchair, leaning back and smiling. His shiny hair was gently tousled, his smooth skin glowing in the sunlight.

Seoryeong stood frozen, nailed to the ground like someone crucified.

Kim Hyun—my husband—was this close. This close...

How... how can that be...?

Kim Hyun... is Lee Wooshin...

How could that...

Those were eyebrows she’d once wanted to brush with her fingertips. The upright bridge of his nose had always drawn her gaze. And that final, gently sloping curve at the outer corner of his eye—maybe it was her favorite part.

“――”

Her hand trembled like it was seizing. She couldn’t breathe. Her side throbbed, crushed as if her lungs had collapsed.

She stumbled backward from the scream that nearly burst out. One of the funeral wreaths bumped into her as she moved. Petals scattered, a sharp odor spread. The only thing crushed wasn’t the nameless flower.

Wearing a white hospital gown, black slippers, and socks pulled over his ankles—Lee Wooshin passed a ball to a group of children.

The kids laughed brightly, like wind chimes. The man’s mischievous smile, curved like a bowstring, burned into her eyes.