People walking through the airport lounge glanced briefly at the man in the black clerical robe.

Kneeling in prayer with a hard, long case laid at his feet was enough to draw everyone’s attention.

He mumbled in a rapid, unintelligible foreign language, and his red tongue flicked against his teeth. Kiya furrowed his brow and began whispering more intensely, more fervently.

“――”

The boy seated in the front row kept turning back, fascinated by Kiya. Their eyes met beyond the cross he clutched like a pair of soft breasts.

Kiya’s expression changed in an instant as he opened his palm. He curled it into a circle, placed it on his nose, then flapped it like a bird—and suddenly, a red Rudolph nose popped out.

“Waaah―!”

The child clapped and let out a cry of amazement.

Kiya kept showing and hiding the red nose, teasing the child playfully. Then he picked up the case at his feet, placed it on his lap, and began assembling a gun.

“Mister, is that a real gun?”

The child’s eyes widened at the quick, dazzling hand movements. In a flash, the gun was fully assembled. Kiya grinned and pressed the muzzle against the child’s forehead. Immediately, the people who looked like the child’s parents stiffened and pulled him back.

Bang—Kiya made the sound himself as he pulled the trigger, and a spray of colorful paper exploded like a party popper. The child burst into giggles again, slung on his backpack, and hopped down from the chair. Kiya’s gaze followed the dangling owl plush.

“Mister, can I have that gun?”

“Do you like owls?”

“Huh?”

“I like that plush. Want to trade it for my gun?”

The boy grabbed the plush hanging from his backpack and pouted.

“Umm... Grandma gave this to me as a present...”

“Do you know what an owl means?”

“Owls are birds!”

“Right, a bird’s a bird. A bird that looks like a cat. But in the old days, they used to call it an unfilial creature that eats its own mother. Especially if you heard one hooting at night, they’d say someone in the village would die soon.”

“What’s ‘die’ mean?”

“You don’t know? Means someone’s gonna f**king croak.”

“.......”

“But owls keep showing up in my dreams, crying.”

Kiya pressed the red ball against the bridge of the boy’s nose and asked,

“So who do you think’s gonna die today? Your grandma?”

“Ugh, waaah―!”

The boy’s face turned red and his chin wrinkled like a walnut, and Kiya split into a wide, jagged smile.

***

Seoryeong, wearing the polished leather shoes Wooshin had shined for her, stepped into the Orthodox Archdiocese building.

The white exterior with its domed roof and arched, oversized doors resembled a Byzantine-style cathedral rarely seen in Korea.

This unofficial security operation that had Kang Taegon on edge was a suspicious affair that involved inviting prominent Korean figures—ones who’d received Russian funds—to unveil a new religious leader.

Seoryeong walked past the chapel with its red carpet, adjusted her clothes again as she crossed a corridor lined with abstract portraits of saints. Each time she made eye contact with one of the tight-faced bodyguards stationed throughout, she felt an odd wave of tension ripple through her.

—Agent Han Seoryeong, do you copy?

Her steady pace faltered briefly. Pressing a finger to her earpiece, she let out a long sigh.

The man watching her from somewhere came to mind, and suddenly her stomach twisted. It was that damn breakfast they’d had together.

Wooshin had tossed and turned all night, wrapping himself around her, unable to sleep. Each time he stirred, Seoryeong woke up too—and sure enough, she always heard him sigh.

He’d roamed around the dark living room aimlessly, holed himself up in the study without coming out, or pressed his face into her underarm and gnawed at her flesh like a dog. At dawn, she even heard the door lock disengage, but she’d pretended not to notice.

—I packed your things roughly and shoved them into the suitcase. Anything urgent, we can buy locally.

“Isn’t this moving a little fast?”

—It’s not like we’re having a shotgun wedding. What’s fast?

“You’re really planning to go straight after the job ends?”

—Why not?

He started talking about marriage that morning. Over his terrible breakfast, they’d absentmindedly decided on a honeymoon destination, agreed to have a quiet ceremony with just the two of them, and he’d already ordered a bouquet of peonies for pickup at the airport. Before she’d even fully woken up, she’d just kept nodding yes, yes—and by the time she realized it, Wooshin had packed everything.

The quicker the schedule, the better for her—but it also felt like an irreversible ending was closing in. She’d stopped chewing the food he put in her mouth, just gulped water instead.

And so, the two had decided that once this security detail ended, they’d cross over to Azerbaijan, near the border with Ukraine.

Wooshin hated the idea, citing poor safety and its proximity to Russia, but Seoryeong had insisted—she wanted to see the sprawling red rock fields.

“So this is what you gave me the in-ear for?”

—Well, that and a few other things.

“Whatever. I’m really going in now.”

Seoryeong stopped in front of the door where Ligai was waiting and pulled up the building’s floor plan in her head.

—Seoryeong.

Suddenly, his voice dropped low and echoed in her ear.

—From now on, think of it like you’re underwater.

“Huh?”

—Just hold your breath for five minutes. That’s all.

The abrupt instruction made her knit her brow.

—Keep your head down for just five minutes.

“What is this...”

—It’ll be over soon. Don’t look Ligai Viktor in the eye. Just look at the shoes I polished for you this morning.

“.......”

—Do you have any idea how hard I buffed those shoes at the crack of dawn just to reflect your face in them?

His childish reasoning left her speechless. What the hell is he playing at? Seoryeong’s bafflement must’ve come through, because Wooshin gave a bitter chuckle.

—If I said it was Director Kang’s order, would you behave?

“You expect me to believe that?”

—Ligai Viktor has more followers than you’d think. It’s out of respect—don’t stare him down. He’s already unstable, so let’s not provoke him. That’s how I read it. Isn’t that how you read it too, Agent Han?

“.......”

—Your superior’s not the type to screw around.

Isn’t he? That voice asking her was cold and certain. She hadn’t even been briefed on the target’s personal info despite being assigned as his close protection detail—but Wooshin, somehow, seemed to know all of it.

Could it be, like Director Kang feared, that the NIS had its fingers in this too? Seoryeong pressed her lips together and glanced around, uneasy.

The atmosphere wasn’t noisy, but there was an unmistakable tension. She kept her eyes on the workers adjusting the altar and installing equipment, studying each unfamiliar face.

—Don’t flash those pretty eyes at that old man. Just wait.

A dry chuckle escaped her lips, totally out of place.

—I’ll come to you.

His firm voice clamped down on her chest. But there was something about what he said that just didn’t sit right.

She was about to ask when the thick, arched door opened and a foreign man scanned her from head to toe. His gaze lingered on her neatly tied black hair, then he stepped aside.

Following him across the plush carpet, the first thing she saw was a white ceremonial robe. Its wide sleeves hung grandly like a dragon robe, sunlight spilling in behind it.

The broad-shouldered man guided her deeper inside and knocked on a door. She strained her ears instinctively, but the silence was absolute.

The foreigner casually shrugged his shoulders and slowly opened the large door. Then, without warning, he took the sunglasses tucked into his pocket and handed them to her.

—Eyes down.

The command struck her like a blow to the back of the neck. Her pride flared—but the moment she heard that voice, her body instinctively obeyed. She dropped her head and focused only on the tips of her shoes.

A room sealed tight with blackout curtains, not a single ray of light creeping through. Someone sat in a chair, back turned.

Seoryeong slowly raised her gaze from the person’s feet. In contrast to the hall’s grand scale, the figure hunched over looked far too small.

“――”

Pathetically thin ankles. Spine jutting up to the nape. Hair growing like green grass in spring. The bowed head drooped with crushing weight, a picture of despair. Patches of skin peeked through—dark and blotchy. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

They didn’t seem to notice someone had entered their space. Or maybe they did and didn’t care. They didn’t feel like a living person.

—Han Seoryeong, respond.

The voice was tight with unease. It barely brushed her ear. She looked around—no sharp objects in sight, thankfully.

Swallowing dryly again, she stepped toward the man sunken in the chair like a bog. She didn’t know what was going on—but Wooshin said he’d be there soon.

Checking the time on her wristwatch, she glanced idly at the hunched back—and froze.

A twisted neck, turned like a knotted stem, had already been staring her way. Their eyes met.

“――!”

Her whole body seized up. Now she understood why the foreigner had handed her those sunglasses.

It was a horrific sight. The scars weren’t from a one-time stab—they were old, never healed, sealed into flesh like stone.

Gasping sharply, Seoryeong pressed her earpiece and whispered.

A cold shiver ran down her spine.

“Instructor... this man... he doesn’t have any eyes.”