Still, thanks to that, the job was expected to be smooth. Handling illegal immigrants should be easy.

“The safety of the hostage comes first. No shooting allowed.”

As they approached the back gate, Kwangil cautioned once again.

“Give up on Song Myunghwan.”

He had said it precisely to ensure understanding, but Kijoo paid no attention.

Ugh. Why would I have to help someone so unappealing?

Without hesitation, Kwangil pushed Kijoo, who was trying to enter the back gate, aside and went ahead. Holding the gun to the back of the lieutenant patrolling carelessly, Kwangil aimed at his head. As the gun touched the head, the guy’s movement stopped.

Indeed, he’s not a novice.

Kwangil forcefully nudged the guy’s neck with the gun. Having aimed accurately or not, the guy fell silently. Kwangil promptly supported the collapsing body, gently laying it down.

Meanwhile, Kijoo casually checked the connection status between his body and the wire. He seemed calm, to the point of looking indifferent now.
When people go mad, they become oddly indifferent.

Without delay, Ik-gwangil looked at Kijoo, who was standing in front of the gas pipes, and spoke quietly.

“There’s nothing to say in this situation, but I’ve been curious about something.”

“…….,”

“Do you see me as your superior?”

In response to that question, Kijoo replied with an annoying expression.

“I’ve been busy with the annoying task of dealing with Song Myunghwan’s mess.”

He started crawling up the pipes with gloved hands.

“Even though you’ve been watching me, you’ve left me alone.”

At that, Ik-gwangil’s eyes widened.

“I don’t care how the report on today’s events turns out.”

Ik-gwangil blankly watched him as he haphazardly tore transparent tape and stuck it on the window.

Recently, through Director Oh Geun-seok, Ik-gwangil learned about Kwon Kijoo’s past. He also received instructions to monitor it more for personal reasons than public ones.

But Kijoo seemed to be aware of all of that.

How much does Kwon Kijoo actually know?

With a strange mix of fear in his eyes, Ik-gwangil spoke.

“I know personal emotions are involved. But you.”

Kijoo, entrusting himself to the wire, raised his eyebrows.

“Is this for your personal revenge, or is it for Song Eunchae?”

With that question, Kijoo finally showed a reaction. He turned his head and fixed his dark eyes on Ik-gwangil as if piercing into an abyss.

In the momentary silence, Ik-gwangil felt a heavy oppression. Before he could cope with it, Kijoo broke the silence by kicking the window.

Crash!

The window, which had been filled with men’s chatter, suddenly dropped, making a loud noise on the warehouse floor.

The guy who had been dozing off for a moment even quickly picked up a weapon and stood up. From the empty window, a round metal piece fell to the ground and rolled.

Thunk!

As the wind blew, the sound of glass breaking echoed, and a purple smoke quickly spread. Thinking it might be a grenade, the men coughed as they tried to confirm if there was an intruder, but due to the spreading smoke, they couldn’t see where Eunchae was, let alone if there was an intruder.

“Open the door first! And find the woman right now!”

Eunchae was also in a situation where her view was blocked. Afraid of being caught by the menacing voices of the men, she stood up from her place, dragging her feet backward. And at that moment, someone’s body touched hers.

Her head jerked up, and a large hand covered her mouth and nose. Unknowingly on the verge of screaming, Eunchae widened her eyes at the strong scent of cologne coming from the closely pressed body.

“Ugh…!”

Her heart pounded loudly, and her body, confined in his arms, was suddenly pushed back. At some point, her feet were no longer touching the ground.
As Eunchae panicked and struggled, the force embracing her tightened even more. Feeling suspended in the air, she tightly shut her eyes due to the floating sensation. When the cold air touched her cheek, she slowly opened her eyes.

“Cough, cough…”

As the hand blocking her throat released, she began to cough. Eunchae, holding her throat and coughing, turned to look at the man holding her.

“Kwon…”

As she tried to say his name, only the unfamiliar name ‘Kwon Eunho’ lingered in her mouth. Eunchae bit her tongue, stopping herself.

Kijoo, who had let go of Eunchae, tidied up the wire while quickly checking her condition with his eyes.

“Where are you hurt?”

With her mouth tightly shut and having swallowed her saliva, Eunchae weakly shook her head. Although it seemed tears had gathered in her bloodshot eyes, after blinking a few times, the moist feeling disappeared.

A bit away, watching from the front gate, Kwangil signaled to Kijoo.

Seeing Kwangil’s sign, Kijoo grabbed Eunchae behind her knees and back and lifted her. He proceeded forward as if holding a handful of sand.

As Eunchae, whose head swayed as if she were going to faint, moved her gaze upward.

A sturdy Adam’s apple, a pronounced jawline, and slightly shaking, short black hair under the eyebrows.

As she shifted her eyes one by one, she slowly blinked and eventually closed them.

“Where is this?”

Eunchae, sitting on the brown sofa, asked.

It was another new place brought by Kijoo. She looked around the villa, devoid of any signs of daily life, and stared at his back heading towards the kitchen.

“Make yourself comfortable. It’s a home.”

“Mr. Kijoo… a home?”

Opening the built-in refrigerator, Kijoo stopped for a moment and turned around.

“Yes.”

Eunchae didn’t say anything. She thought the studio she had seen before was his real home, but now even that wasn’t true. With sunken eyes, she stared at the pattern on the carpet.

“To be specific, I can’t say it’s a perfect home right now. I stay here and there.”

Kijoo, who opened a bottle of water he brought, extended it to Eunchae. Taking the water, Eunchae didn’t drink but touched the surface of the cold water bottle.

Kijoo sat on the floor, facing her, with one knee down.

“Can you tell me what happened from the beginning?”

“…”

“It might be difficult, but as detailed as possible.”

His voice was softer than usual, as if trying to reassure her.

Eunchae lifted her eyes fixed on the carpet and, after staring at him for a while, slowly spoke.

“…Haman Ajumma said the future had come. So I went down to the living room, and there was a woman I’d never seen before. I was surprised, and when I turned around, another maid opened the door for me. At that moment, Haman Ajumma screamed. I went to the warehouse with my vision suddenly blocked from behind.”

“Didn’t you see Mrs. Ajumma in the warehouse just now?”

In response to the suspicion about Mrs. Haman, Eunchae forcefully said.
“Haman Ajumma did nothing wrong. Except for being deceived like me.”

Eunchae raised her head, observing Kijoo’s expression sensitively.

“Don’t suspect Ajumma. It’s true.”

“…”

“Hey, Mr. Kijoo.”

Kijoo, who had briefly looked elsewhere, turned his eyes towards Eunchae.