As if she had an alarm clock implanted in her stomach, Kim Tae Rin woke up every morning around 6:05.

When she went down to the kitchen to start preparing for opening, she could often hear Choi Yoon stirring and getting up late on the second floor.

It took him quite a while to come down.

He took great care to wash and groom himself, like a cat licking its fur meticulously.

Even in this dire situation where all the professionals who used to manage him in teams were suddenly gone, the sight of an actor who led the era walking down the stairs every morning, having done his best to style his hair and check his attire to maintain the best condition, never became familiar.

Even Kim Tae Rin would sometimes inadvertently exclaim that his hair looked particularly nice today.

Choi Yoon’s shy yet pleased reaction to such comments would, in turn, fluster her.

It wasn’t just his hair. His eyes, nose, chest, and limbs. His elbows were always smooth, and even his earlobes seemed elegantly crafted.

With an appearance so perfect that even his internal villi must be handsome, what could be special about my compliments? He must have heard them countless times.

“Is there anything that shouldn’t be caught on camera? If so, please put it away in advance.”

When Choi Yoon asked that, Kim Tae Rin was in the middle of taking inventory of ingredients in the kitchen. She shook her head, saying there wasn’t, but somehow it was quiet.

Looking around, she found Choi Yoon staring at her from a distance. He had frozen in the posture of checking recorded footage on a laptop placed on the table.

There was a moment of silence.

Kim Tae Rin blinked and then answered aloud.

“No. You can film everything. You said you won’t install cameras in the bathroom. And you said you’d exclude our bedroom too, so everything else is fine.”

“…Really?”

Choi Yoon looked like he had many questions.

Kim Tae Rin waved her hands dismissively. Inwardly, she thought it was a thousand blessings that she had burned everything in advance.

“Don’t worry and install them as you please.”

Choi Yoon truly did just that.

He installed them so freely that it seemed as if a hailstorm of cameras had rained down on the restaurant.

Even the customers who came and went were startled by the swarm of cameras scattered everywhere, despite knowing that filming had begun.

Though somewhat tense about what might change, Kim Tae Rin quickly got used to the numerous camera lenses. Perhaps it was easier to adapt because there were so many.

Choi Yoon didn’t ask anything special of Kim Tae Rin.

“Is it really okay like this? Don’t I need to do anything?”

“Of course. The point is to do nothing.”

“When will it start uploading?”

“We’ll film for a few more days to secure enough footage. When the time comes, I’ll hand over the files, and professionals will work on them, and we’ll receive the results. The upload will come after that.”

Kim Tae Rin couldn’t shake off her worries. She would get anxious even while clearing dishes from a table after customers had left.

“Who would watch something this boring? Why would anyone want to see someone else clearing tables?”

At that, Choi Yoon would laugh. Sometimes he would respond in a playful tone.

“Well, who would think Tae Rin’s face is boring?”

Occasionally, when the restaurant closed early, Choi Yoon would call Kim Tae Rin as she was about to go up to her bedroom and show her the footage recorded that day.

Thanks to Choi Yoon, Kim Tae Rin learned that her expression became completely blank, as if washed clean, after customers left.

She also learned that she had a habit of wrinkling her nose sometimes, that her left face was prettier than her right, that she would occasionally sniffle and tilt her head back when cutting onions, and that sometimes she would pause her work and gaze intently at Choi Yoon.

“I’m going to adjust the camera angle a bit. To show Tae Rin moving in the kitchen better. You see, when Tae Rin goes out to the hall alone, she often places her hand on this counter here. So her side profile gets hidden. It’s pretty, but we can’t see it, so I’ll move the camera a bit. In exchange, can we remove the onion net from the ceiling? All we can see is onions…”

While the onions could simply be removed, Kim Tae Rin felt somewhat embarrassed that aspects of herself she hadn’t known about were being fully captured on camera.

“My expression looks not just blank but almost angry. Should I try to fix that?”

“There’s absolutely no need to fix it. You’re prettiest just as you are now.”

When he said such things, Choi Yoon didn’t smile. His gaze was firm and serious, as if emphasizing that he truly meant it.

Even when looking at the laptop, if Kim Tae Rin showed signs of worry, he would always lift his eyes to look directly at her. He would tell her it was okay.

It was an unfamiliar experience.

Kim Tae Rin had long considered her appearance a hindrance in life.

At the same time, over the years that had passed. While Choi Yoon grew tall like a water-soaked willow and his shoulders broadened in the most brilliant positions, blossoming flawlessly without a single blemish, Kim Tae Rin repeatedly prayed that her pretty face would rather be ruined, so that she wouldn’t catch the eye of any human who could buy others’ freedom with money.

Choi Yoon precisely pointed out this part of her that she had turned away from, believing it to be of no help to her dreams.

Sometimes Choi Yoon would pause the video and trace the line from Kim Tae Rin’s forehead, over her nose, to her chin with his fingertip, saying it was something not just anyone could have. He particularly liked Kim Tae Rin’s eyes, her deep black and dense pupils.

“They’re like a coniferous forest. So dense.”

While doing so, he wondered why Kim Tae Rin hadn’t entered the entertainment industry.

“I like cooking.”

However, Choi Yoon didn’t seem easily convinced. He said if it were him, he would have entered the entertainment industry first, then accumulated funds to venture into the food service industry.

That Kim Tae Rin was really pressed for time back then, that there was a desperation that prevented her from considering any other path even for a minute or a second for fear of being discovered as an undercover agent, was something Choi Yoon would probably never understand.

Thinking about this made a corner of her heart feel crushed somehow. It made her sad, even while sitting right next to Choi Yoon.

After observing Choi Yoon for several days like this, Kim Tae Rin concluded that his questions about undercover agents weren’t because he had guessed her identity. It seemed more like an aversion to Kim Tae Rin for defending undercover agents.

If those questions had been aimed at uncovering something rather than a simple difference of opinion, Choi Yoon should have taken further action. But he showed no signs of suspecting Kim Tae Rin.

However, just as she judged herself to be safe, Kim Tae Rin sensed something strange.

It started in the kitchen. When a neighbor brought some beef bones and she was looking for a large pot to make bone broth. She opened the drawer under the counter and reached in, but couldn’t touch it.

Surprised, she knelt down and looked inside. The pot was pushed deep into the corner of the drawer.

She hesitated for a moment.

Kim Tae Rin doesn’t push things this far back. She kept all cooking utensils within easy reach to use them quickly. It was an old habit.

Just then, Choi Yoon passed by behind her.

“Tae Rin, the customers say the pepper grinder is broken, so I’ll bring the one we use in the kitchen.”

He spoke hurriedly as he grabbed the grinder from the shelf. As he was about to go back out to the hall, Kim Tae Rin quickly stood up and caught him. She pushed the drawer shut with her foot.

“Choi Yoon, could you take out the pot for me?”

Choi Yoon bent down without a word. He held onto the edge of the counter to support himself, opened the drawer with one hand, and pulled out the pot. He smiled brightly.

“Let me know if you need anything else.”

With the pot at her feet, Kim Tae Rin watched as Choi Yoon went around the counter to give the pepper grinder to the customer.

One of the customers said,

“Bring me my personal plate too. It’s blue and oval-shaped.”

Choi Yoon came back to the kitchen and immediately opened the upper cabinet to take out the plate.

Only then did Kim Tae Rin realize that Choi Yoon knew the layout of not just the kitchen, but the entire restaurant thoroughly. This wasn’t just because he had looked around while preparing for filming. It required a level of scrutiny that could only be achieved by examining every nook and cranny. Or by secretly searching all night.

A chill ran down her spine.

Kim Tae Rin had only asked Choi Yoon for the pot, but he opened the drawer without asking. And in Kim Tae Rin’s memory, she had never taken out the pot in front of Choi Yoon. So when Kim Tae Rin asked Choi Yoon for the pot, he should have first asked about its location.

Could it be?

Just in case, when Choi Yoon went up to sleep, Kim Tae Rin inserted a tiny piece of paper, no bigger than a fingernail, into the gap of the counter drawer and closed it carefully.

And when she checked the next morning, the paper had fallen to the floor.

Someone had opened it.

When this kept happening for several days, Kim Tae Rin called Park Jae Sun.

“Sir, I’m coming up to Seoul. Can I stay at your place until I hear from the broker?”

− What about the filming?

“The situation has changed. I think Choi Yoon is suspicious of me.”

− What? Did you get caught?

“I’ve cleared out anything that could give me away, and there’s no reason for that to happen, but the positions of things keep changing. He’s the only one who could be touching them.”

− Oh no…

Kim Tae Rin listened silently as Park Jae Sun cursed profusely.

Park Jae Sun let out a long sigh and asked in a voice still tinged with anger.

− Didn’t you say you got money from Choi Yoon? What are you going to do about that?

Her head throbbed. She didn’t want to be indebted to Park Jae Sun and had hoped to manage on her own, even if it meant relying on Choi Yoon, but now even that seemed impossible. However, safety was the top priority.

“I’ll have to return it without a choice. As for the filming, I’m leaving before it even starts.”

− You don’t need to be indebted to Choi Yoon. As I’ve said many times, let me give you some money.

“I’ll pay it back. I’m really sorry. I feel so ashamed.”

− Don’t worry about it. I’ll ask the broker when it’ll be possible.

“I’ll come up as soon as I’ve sorted out the restaurant.”

So Kim Tae Rin put all her effort into organizing her affairs.

She cleaned and arranged all the ingredients in the kitchen and storage so that anyone could use them immediately, and she called all the suppliers they had been using to settle any outstanding bills.

Online sales had already been suspended when the emergency measures began.

Thus, what she would take with her was neatly packed into a single bag, just like when she first came here.

The only difference was that instead of the shabby bag that would burst open at the slightest bump, spilling its contents onto the street, it was now a rather expensive branded product that Han Seo Jung had gifted her last birthday, having saved up her pocket money.

The contents hadn’t changed much, only the Hamburger Steak project proposal was missing.

The bag, feeling particularly light without the thing she had yearned for most, was placed in the wardrobe, ready to be picked up and carried at any moment.

As her affairs were mostly in order, one dawn after Choi Yoon had gone up to sleep, Kim Tae Rin remained in the hall to write a letter.

Sitting alone on the first floor of the restaurant, she wrote each character carefully, as if embroidering, taking her time.

It wasn’t her first time writing a letter to Han Seo Jung, yet the pen tip kept stopping, unable to find its bearings.

It was truly strange to write a letter to someone who would be left behind while being fully prepared to leave at any moment. Perhaps that’s why it was difficult.

After refining and filtering many words into just one page, Kim Tae Rin stared blankly at this array of her feelings.

Han Seo Jung would probably keep this letter for a long time. Assuming she doesn’t tear it up in a fit of betrayal after reading it, if she can safely pass that moment of anger, Han Seo Jung might look at this letter much more frequently than ordinary people take things out of their drawers.

So Kim Tae Rin took out another sheet of paper. She copied it once more with all her heart. While writing carefully, her phone buzzed.

Kim Tae Rin wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder and answered while continuing to write the letter.

“Hello…”

− Come up tomorrow right away. They say everything’s ready.

Kim Tae Rin was startled and put down her pen. She gripped the phone properly. Her voice came out hoarsely.

“Already?”

− What do you mean ‘already’, you lucky girl. Don’t you know how urgent this is? We barely managed to secure this. Right now, all the undercover agents across the country are lining up to leave.

Kim Tae Rin just listened quietly. Though she had anticipated and prepared, her mind was in turmoil.

− What’s wrong? Is it because of that filming or whatever? That can proceed without any problem even if you’re not there.

“That’s right. Since the restaurant and the neighbors are still there, the filming can proceed as intended even if I disappear. They can just find another chef.”

It was regrettable that she couldn’t stay longer to help, but it couldn’t be helped. If she stayed and a full investigation was conducted, it would be all over.

− Choi Yoon is the problem. What are you going to tell him? He’ll find it strange if you suddenly say you’re leaving.

Kim Tae Rin glanced up at the second floor where Choi Yoon would be sleeping. She lowered her voice.

“I’ll send Choi Yoon out of the restaurant tomorrow, telling him to take a lunchbox to Seo Jung’s house. I’ll slip away during that time. I’ll leave a note saying I’ve gone to Seoul for an urgent matter. That should buy me at least a day.”

− Will Choi Yoon just let it be?

“He probably won’t even look for me, but even if he does, I’ll already be out of Korea by then.”

− You absolutely cannot be late. Can you come up right now?

“I can’t. The searches are intense at night. I’ll go when it gets light tomorrow.”

− You need to arrive in Seoul by tomorrow evening at the latest. Let’s go meet together.

“What about the hospital?”

− I’ll take a day off. After what happened last time, I just can’t send you alone. I’ll take you from there to Incheon. You’ll take a ship. A cargo ship, secretly. Don’t be late, understand? If you miss it, your spot will go to someone else.

“Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After hanging up, Kim Tae Rin let out a long sigh. She picked up her pen again. She copied slowly.

Now it’s the end of everything – Sosul-ri, this restaurant, Han Seo Jung, Choi Yoon, the tiresome undercover agent label, and the even more tiresome dream.

We will never meet again.