“She's got the aptitude, but... still seems to lack conviction.”

Conviction? Conviction for what? Seoryeong's brows creased faintly, only to smooth again a moment later.

She didn’t believe in people anymore—let alone anything unseen.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept the kidnapping request involving an NIS executive.”

“...!”

“The Special Security Team already brings in enough revenue from its overseas work. There’s no benefit in willingly tangling with the National Intelligence Service and taking on that kind of risk.”

“......”

“But—I can help. If what you need actually requires the Special Security Team, that is.”

Wasn’t that just a roundabout way of saying no? There was something irritating about how evasively he’d phrased it. Seoryeong felt a vague sense of unease crawl down her spine.

Director Kang got up from his seat and started walking toward the door.

“So, when do you think that arm will heal?”

“The nerves weren’t damaged. Once the sutures are removed, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Two months.”

“...Pardon?”

“Then take those two months to rest and focus solely on your recovery.”

Wait a minute... That’s not the answer I wanted. Then what exactly did he mean by “help”? Was that all just big talk to get a read on me?

If she’d known it would end like this, she might’ve just asked him to give her a job back at the company. The regret didn’t suit her, but it snuck in anyway.

“Make sure you get proper treatment so you don’t end up with any lingering issues. I’ll send over an orchid—please accept it gladly. Once you do, I’m sure everything you want will fall into place.”

The words were cryptic, but Seoryeong had been so disappointed by the lack of a clear answer that she promptly forgot them.

But a few days later, a small orchid with budding flowers arrived at her hospital room—along with a set of unfamiliar pamphlets delivered by express courier.

As soon as Seoryeong unwrapped the gift, she was stunned speechless by Director Kang’s terrifying intent.

<Blast Corp: 10-Week Basic Training Program for New Recruits>

It was a dangerous invitation.

***

The African police trainees sat collapsed on the dirt, panting raggedly. The harsh African sun beat down without mercy, and their sweat-soaked uniforms clung heavily to their skin.

“Then we'll meet again after a 10-minute break.”

Lee Wooshin gave the order to the Nigerian police officers, who lay sprawled across the ground in exhaustion.

The schedule of the Special Security Team had been completely thrown off after Hur Channa’s unexpected disappearance. Several pending contracts had been delayed or outright canceled, resulting in an unexpected block of free time.

Right then, Nigeria had sent a request for counterterrorism training, and Blast Corp deployed the now-idle Special Security Team.

Currently, Nigeria was plagued by Boko Haram, an Islamic extremist terrorist group. A string of large-scale student abduction cases had already shaken the country.

As a result, the Nigerian government had commissioned Blast Corp to train their police in hostage rescue and security detail.

Military-grade training programs were one of the company’s core businesses—and the fact that the assignment was in Africa had sealed the deal.

Lately, Africa had become a direct battleground in the growing tensions between the U.S. and China.

Blast Corp believed money followed wherever the new Cold War emerged. In fact, other PMCs had already secured African mining rights as part of their contract fees.

It wasn’t surprising, then, that Blast Corp had sharpened its claws for a slice of that pie. Compared to Western firms, Korean PMCs were cheaper, and their service quality was superior—making them highly competitive. It was worth the effort.

Lee Wooshin stepped back into the operations tent and, out of habit, crunched a piece of ice between his teeth. Having spent most of his career deployed in tropical climates, he was intimately familiar with hydration management.

Even with all the shady contracts under Blast Corp’s belt, here he was, just spinning his wheels in Africa. He could practically hear that bastard Na Wonchang’s voice echoing in his head:

—“Wow, must be real tough being team leader... Pfft...” 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Wooshin folded his tall frame into a narrow couch and lazily tracked the clouds drifting past the window. He wasn’t sure what he was even looking for. His eyes traced the sky with the slow detachment of someone deeply bored.

“Goddamn it!”

Suddenly, one of the team members jumped up from behind a monitor, swearing loud enough to startle everyone.

It was Jin Hoje, ex-UDT, who had cursed without thinking. Now he was staring at the lounging team leader, who looked half-asleep in the shade.

“Team Leader! Did you see the new directive?”

“Not interested.”

“Come on...! This is really not the time to be lying around like that. Just read it!”

“Go fetch me some more ice.”

“.......”

“Jin Hoje, you have to do something cute if you want me to consider your request.”

“Sir, this is about our team! Why would I need to suck up to you to report an official update?!”

Wooshin merely tilted his chin toward the outside, and Jin Hoje grimaced. It was strange—this man acted lazy and indifferent, but the moment they hit the field, he moved like a ghost. Every single time.

“Fine, I’ll just read it to you.”

Wooshin treated anything outside his assigned missions like a flipped-off switch—complete and utter indifference. Even now, it was bizarre. No, impressive.

Jin Hoje raised his voice and began reading the notice aloud.

“Request for participation as training instructors in the Blast Corp’s Basic Training Program for New Recruits—”

“Instructors?”

Wooshin’s brow twitched upward as he gazed out the window.

“Yes, sir. And it’s addressed to our team.”

“......”

“They want us to whip some rookies into shape as soon as we get back from Africa... Like hell! Do they know how much we cost? Why keep sending us to these bullshit jobs?”

“Because Hur Channa’s death screwed up our schedule for the next six months.”

“Sir, she’s not dead.”

“...I see.”

“......”

“Then she’d better wake up soon.”

It didn’t sound like concern. The words came lazily from the man sprawled like a sunbathing predator—and they were chilling because of how utterly cold they were. He just wanted her conscious so she could be used again.

At that moment, another agent came back from washing his face, his cheeks still damp. He quickly scanned the screen.

“Yeah, well... this might not be so bullshit after all.”

“Oh, shut up, princess—what would you know?”

Usually respectful around Wooshin, Jin Hoje snapped with irritation.

“Look here—at the bottom. It says we get to pick the recruit to fill our vacant slot.”

“...Oh!”

Two agents of similar height immediately started whacking each other with sweat-soaked towels.

They used them like whips, slapping each other’s heads, cheeks, chests, and shoulders—without anyone stepping in to stop them.

Even while exchanging blows, they kept chatting casually.

“God, I hope it’s someone young this time.”

“The last one was young too, and the one before that. They all quit right away.”

“Yeah—what’s with these rookies, always flaking out?”

They tossed aside the towels and started wrestling—whoever grabbed the other’s collar first won the advantage.

“Isn’t it because of you, Kim Taemin? You’re always being standoffish and picky. They probably felt alienated.”

“Bullshit! You’re the reason they quit. You got them wasted on day one, made them sleep on your porch, and dragged them to the sauna against their will!”

“You antisocial fuck, that’s what bonding is.”

“No, dipshit, that’s called hazing.”

They glared at each other, fists still gripping one another’s shirts—then simultaneously turned to Wooshin.

“Team Leader, what kind of rookie would you prefer?”

Half-asleep amid the familiar chaos, Wooshin yawned. Then, glancing at the clock, he rose without a sound.

For someone who had been lounging with his long legs propped up on the table, he moved with the fluid grace of a wildcat. A big cat.

As he crouched to re-tie his loose bootlaces, he spoke.

“Anyone who doesn’t get on my nerves.”

The ice in his mouth had long since melted away.

***

Ice clinked in the whiskey glass, the deep amber liquid slowly seeping around it.

At the very top of Blast Corp’s Seoul headquarters—inside the glass-walled executive office—stood Director Kang Taegon.

He swirled the crystal-clear glass and stood before the window, staring out at the unceasing glow of the Seoul nightscape.

Without a shred of awe or feeling, he raised his phone and made a call.

In addition to its Seoul HQ, Blast Corp had offices in Hong Kong and Saint Petersburg.

Having just returned from an overseas inspection of those branches, Kang now rubbed the bridge of his nose with the same hand that held his drink. Despite standing ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) above the glittering city, he drank as if parched.

A calm voice answered on the other end of the line. After a brief, perfunctory greeting, Kang got straight to the point.

“We’ve secured a female operative on this end.”