Chapter 53.1

Chapter 53.1

Ki Taemin was puzzled by what he heard and flinched slightly.

“Are you possibly under Jin Hojae’s command…”

“Do you know if Mr. Jin Hojae’s under–.”

Lee Wooshin’s face twisted as if he had tasted something disgusting, wrinkles forming between his brows. Then, as he separated the gun and the chamber in sequence, he shook his head dismissing what he was about to ask.

A sigh of disgust escaped from his lips.

“It’s amazing how quickly you can lose your mind at the sound of an owl’s hoot.” He muttered to himself.

Lee Wooshin resented the comfort of those sunny days when he had fallen asleep on the sofa holding her. He disliked the monotonous routine of having breakfast together, sitting affectionately like sparrows, and laughing while taking neighbourhood walks.

But what was this thirst, and what were these rising emotions? Every time he saw her blindly chasing after Kim Hyun, his insides twisted like this.

When you trust someone too much and give them your whole heart, eventually your foundation crumbles, and you get betrayed. People are irretrievable and uncontrollable, so it’s best to use them only for their purpose and intent.

However, he felt a strong aversion, sometimes to the point of goosebumps, whenever he saw the owl acting contrary to his thoughts.

Why can’t you forget your husband’s warmth and be so obsessed?

Lee Wooshin soon stepped out of the partition and passed by Ki Taemin.

“―If you’re not going to bring my husband back, stay out of it.” He remembered her words.

His steps halted at the voice that suddenly crossed his mind. It felt like he was caught in a very nasty trap, but now it was time to make a choice, one way or another.

His paused legs started slowly climbing the stairs again.

***

After the training to refuse information leaks, which resulted in many injuries, the members faced a recovery week.

With exactly half of the training program completed, they received their returned phones for the first time. During the recovery week, they were free to make calls at designated times, and everyone wore comfortable shoes while attending lectures all afternoon.

The lectures were mostly about domestic security missions or operational rules for overseas dispatches.

Particularly, Korean companies operating abroad faced various terror issues; there were threats from pirates when crossing the South China Sea, and construction sites clashed with armed forces.

Since Blast primarily handled such security tasks, they provided detailed education on terrorist organizations.

Seoryeong concealed her expression and listened attentively during these sessions.

Of course, her focus was on “how the hostage situation was carried out.” Seoryeong filtered and reinterpreted the instructor’s teachings in her own way.

How did they capture them? How did they succeed? Such ruthless thoughts continued beneath her pretty face.

“Gasp, hey, the instructor is coming…!”

The instructor in charge of the class was quite elderly, and the lessons always dragged on tediously. Even though her colleague sitting next to her nudged her with an elbow, Seoryeong continued to prop her chin up with a disinterested expression.

Since the torture training, she hadn’t met Lee Wooshin either publicly or privately. He was nowhere to be seen during simple runs, meals, or fitness evaluations.

While Seoryeong flipped through the booklet she had received, she occasionally furrowed her brow.

The stiffness between her legs had disappeared, but something kept catching at the threshold of her heart. That frustrating feeling had persisted since the training. Every time it happened, Seoryeong couldn’t find an answer and just tilted her head in confusion.

After the rough experience in Thailand, Director Kang Taegon had once asked if she had any PTSD symptoms… Could it be that a little torture training had given her that?

While repeatedly wrinkling her forehead and pondering these unknown emotions, the classroom door slid open, and a tall man walked in. The previously noisy atmosphere instantly tensed up, and she briefly removed her hand from her chin.

“…!”

Lee Wooshin entered the classroom, rubbing one eye.

He appeared tired, his body slouched, clearly showing signs of drowsiness and annoyance as he dragged the heels of his military boots.

The man casually rested one arm on the edge of the podium, looking indifferently at the mottled faces of the members. Each time he leaned on the long podium, it seemed like the bottom might tip over.

At some point, he slowly began to speak.

“Once you complete the training safely, some of you will be dispatched to isolated and dangerous countries.”

But he didn’t turn his head even slightly toward where Seoryeong was sitting. Facing his deliberate disregard felt like a flint striking hard against a corner of her heart.

Wasn’t it him who arbitrarily stuck his finger in someone else’s hole? So why does he act as if I’m the one who did something wrong?

Is this really what PTSD feels like?