Chapter 129.2

Chapter 129.2

There had been a time when just looking at this room had made her nauseous, furious, desperate to cry, to destroy, to cling.

A time when she hadn’t been able to take a single step beyond this threshold. Now, those days felt distant, as if they belonged to another lifetime.

Standing there in the strange dissonance, she was pulled back by the vibration in her pocket.

“Yes… hello?”

— “Unnie! I checked—it really is a tracking device!”

At those words, Seoryeong glanced down at the transparent film sticker on her wrist.

— “That plastic piece you gave me—it’s a tap that tracks your location in real time!”

That meant Kia had been right: she had only one chance.

Uncertain of what situations might arise, Seoryeong had prepared for anything, securing the tracker on her wrist. If needed, she could transfer it to someone else in an instant.

— “Please, be careful!”

“Thank you.”

She answered lightly, but Channa’s voice suddenly grew louder.

— “I’m not just saying this! That place is a battlefield with this whole new Cold War situation—China and the U.S. lurking like scavengers! And Equatorial Guinea, for all its dictatorship nonsense, still bends over backward for China—they can’t even smuggle out their own money without Beijing’s approval!”

“Which is why this is the perfect opportunity.”

— “…What?”

A quiet smile tugged at Seoryeong’s lips.

The Equatorial Guinea mission had been one she had wanted to take on ever since the Special Security Team first started maritime training. From the moment Team Leader Lee Woo-shin had briefed them on the plan—how they would have to pass through the Chinese forces that had constructed Equatorial Guinea’s ports. It had intrigued her.

“A minor incident spiraling into a diplomatic crisis, that’s what they fear the most.”

— “…”

“And that applies to our country, too.”

— “W-wait, wait.”

“Channa, do you know what the biggest threat at sea is?”

At her question, Chan-na groaned as if she didn’t want to hear the answer.

— “Ugh… You’re at it again.”

Three tries at most. If two had failed, the third had a chance of success.

Seoryeong yanked away the white cloth covering the furniture, revealing Kim Hyun’s belongings.

“This time, he’ll have no choice but to come for me.”

***

“Agent Han Seoryeong!”

Jin Hojae beamed, his face marked by a burn that stretched from his neck to his cheek like flickering flames. Despite the injury, his broad smile remained unchanged.

His booming voice finally allowed Seoryeong to relax her shoulders, which had been tense the entire time.

On her way to the airport, she had rushed to the hospital upon hearing that Jin Ho-jae had regained consciousness.

Even that horrific wound couldn’t dampen his usual energy. He was already chattering excitedly about undergoing skin reconstruction surgery as soon as his strength returned.

His naturally optimistic and resilient personality reminded her of Kim Hyun. Without meaning to, Seoryeong studied him.

“But what’s with that backpack? Where are you going, Agent Han?”

“Oh… I just did some cleaning at home.”

It was an unconvincing excuse, but no one called her out on it.

While Jin Hojae’s comrades bickered over the aftermath of the incident—arguing over who had done well and who had messed up—Seoryeong quietly slipped out of the hospital room.

Once outside, she quickened her pace for no particular reason. Adjusting her overstuffed backpack, she made her way through the indoor park—only to suddenly come to a halt.

“―”

It had been a full week since she’d seen that face.

In the distance, Lee Wooshin sat alone in a wheelchair, idly fiddling with his phone.

The thick bandages, once as bulky as Styrofoam, had thinned considerably. He was lazily pushing the wheelchair back and forth with his uninjured foot, looking like a man hunting down someone who owed him money.

Seoryeong watched him for a moment before quietly settling onto a bench—just far enough to stay out of his line of sight.

“Ah—!”

A loud commotion suddenly broke out as someone tumbled to the ground near the bench. Startled, Seoryeong turned to see a young man sprawled beneath it.

He looked to be in his mid-twenties. His cap had slipped off, revealing a boyish face, now drained of color. Clutching his chest as if he were on the verge of an asthma attack, he stared at her with wide eyes.

For a few seconds, he couldn’t look away. Then, as if realizing something, he hastily hid the phone pressed against his ear and averted his gaze.

A gray cardigan over a simple shirt—he looked like an ordinary engineering student. A laptop sat beside him, an untouched sandwich and a bottle of banana milk next to it.

On the laptop’s screen, an unknown program was running at high speed.

The moment Seoryeong’s gaze shifted to the pitch-black screen, a hand shot out like a harpoon, slamming the laptop shut.

Their eyes met. The man swallowed hard.

“Ow…owl. I mean, hi—no, nice to—wait, no…”

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