"Last question… Do you swear loyalty to us?"
…
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Nails tapped on the table with an even rhythm.
Dust drifted where the overhead light cut through the air.
Across the table, Kangwoo leaned back in the chair, hands resting on his thighs, eyes fixed on his own reflection in the steel.
Sugar waited, fingers continued tapping.
A full ten seconds passed.
She lowered her gaze and wrote something down on the tablet.
"That will be all," she said, closing the tablet. "You'll have a short break before the skill test."
She stood.
For the briefest moment, her eyes lingered.
Then she left.
The door sealed the silence behind her.
Kangwoo remained still.
…
The handle turned.
Jaewon entered with a tray of rice, curry and water balanced in one hand."You'll need the energy." He placed the tray in front of Kangwoo.
Kangwoo looked at the food but didn't touch it.
Jaewon pulled out the opposite chair and sat.
Kangwoo lifted his hand slightly, as if to reach for the tray.
It hovered.
Then lowered again.
Jaewon's brow shifted.
"What's troubling you?" he asked.
Kangwoo's mouth twitched.
"Is it true," he said at last, looking up, "that you people kill for a living?"
Jaewon didn't react immediately.
He leaned back slightly in the chair, studying Kangwoo the way one might study a younger brother asking something difficult.
"We don't kill for money," he said. "And we don't kill because we enjoy it."
A small pause.
"We kill when leaving someone alive would cost more."
Kangwoo didn't look away.
"That… does not justify it."
"You're right," Jaewon agreed.
Then he folded his hands loosely on the table.
"You and your sister were ambushed," he said. "Three bikers, wolf insignia on their jackets."
Kangwoo's jaw tightened.
"You remember?"
Jaewon's voice remained even.
"You filled one's body with bruises that will never fade completely."
"You robbed another of his spine… and with it, his freedom."
"And the last,"
A pause.
"You killed."
Kangwoo opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
The fluorescent light hummed.
Jaewon tilted his head slightly.
Silence pressed between them.
"You did it because you had to," Jaewon said. "Because no one else was going to protect her."
He nudged the tray forward once more.
"We are not asking you to strip your own humanity away."
His voice lowered just slightly.
"We're asking you to help us."
Kangwoo's gaze dropped back to the table.
The steel reflected nothing now.
Jaewon watched him for a moment.
"You don't need to worry." Jaewon spoke again, quieter this time. "Men who wear animals on their jackets," he continued, "don't get to think for themselves."
His fingers tapped once against the tray.
"They follow orders. They're told who to hurt, and they hurt them."
Jaewon's gaze set on Kangwoo.
"We don't answer to anyone like that."
Kangwoo's brow shifted faintly.
Jaewon's tone stayed even.
"We decide for ourselves."
He leaned forward slightly.
"If we move, it's because we choose to."
"We still get to draw the line."
Jaewon suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
"It won't look clean."
His gaze held steady.
"But it will be ours."
Kangwoo's hand rose again.
This time, it didn't stop.
His fingers closed around the spoon, but he still didn't eat yet.
"Is my sister somewhere safe?" he asked.
"She is." Jaewon answered immediately.
Kangwoo's grip tightened slightly around the handle.
"Is she fed well?" he continued.
"Kept accompanied?"
Jaewon's voice slowed.
"That… I don't know."
Kangwoo looked up. "I swear loyalty to you, if you make sure she is."
He watched Jaewon's expression.
Only then did Kangwoo take a bite.
He swallowed, the rice sat heavy in his throat.
…
Darin choked.
The bite went down wrong, scraping, catching. She bent forward over the tray as a harsh cough tore out of her. Food sprayed back onto the metal in an ugly scatter. She gagged, sucked in air too fast, too shallow, chest hitching as she spat the rest out, strings of rice clinging to her lip before dropping.
She sat still for a moment.
She placed the tray down, lifted her wrist and woke the band.
The screen populated quietly.
Heart rate: 52 bpm
SpO₂: 97%
Respiration: 10 / min
Her thumb pressed lightly against the side of her neck, not to check the pulse, but to nudge it. She inhaled through her nose, slow and shallow, then exhaled even slower, letting the breath stretch just long enough to drag her heart rate down another beat.
The number flickered.
51 bpm.
She stopped there.
Any lower and the band would compensate, raise the room temperature, tighten the air, vibrate once in warning.
Her oxygen dipped next, exactly as expected.
SpO₂: 96%.
She shifted her breathing, just enough to bring it back up. The number corrected within two seconds.
She stood, tray still in her hands, movements oddly calm for someone who just vomited. She walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
The lock clicked.
The noise fell away immediately.
She leaned over the toilet and retched, more performance than needed. When nothing came up, she stayed there anyway, forehead resting briefly against the porcelain until her breathing slowed to something manageable.
Then she reached for the tray, tipped the foot, dumping everything in at once. She flushed twice, watching the water carry it away. Her breathing slowed as the bowl refilled.
She straightened.
At the sink, she set the empty tray down and turned on the tap. She washed her mouth first before reaching for the tray. Water rushed over the metal, washing away what little remained.
"Hey."
The voice came quietly, Darin turned.
Behind the toilet, half-hidden by shadow and tile, was a small hole cut cleanly into the wall. Just wide enough to see through. Beside it, tucked between the pipes, lay a pile of dismantled forks, handles snapped, prongs bent flat, stripped down to useless pieces.
The tile around the hole was darker than the rest, worn smooth by hands that had returned to it too many times.
"Hey, Eun-seo."