There was a new resort branch under construction by Chunwoo Group on the East Sea. When Ha-jin got on the express bus to follow Kang Sung-oh, he simply assumed that must be their destination. So when Kang headed in a completely different direction after getting off the bus, Ha-jin was more than a little thrown.
The unpredictable path Kang Sung-oh took eventually led them to a small harbor.
The sun had completely set, and a row of fishing boats lit up the pitch-black sea with their bright deck lights.
Kang Sung-oh stayed glued to his phone the whole time, looking nervous and uneasy. The way he urgently scanned his surroundings made it seem like he was waiting for someone. Blending in among the groups of night fishermen chatting in clusters, Ha-jin kept a careful eye on the situation.
Before long, a middle-aged man in shabby clothes approached Kang. After a quick exchange of glances, the two said a few words and began walking along the dock. Ha-jin followed at a distance.
They stopped in front of a rundown, unimpressive-looking boat. A man who seemed to be the captain poked his head out. The three appeared to be having a conversation, their expressions sharp and tense. Unlike the other fishing boats, this one had a completely different vibe. It wasn’t lit up, and there wasn’t a single angler nearby trying to negotiate a fare.
That’s when Ha-jin felt something was off. Why would someone who worked in Chunwoo Group’s secretary office be trying to board such a shabby vessel—especially at a time like this? It was as if… he was trying to run away.
He saw Kang Sung-oh discreetly hand the middle-aged man an envelope. The man checked his watch and said something in a guarded tone, as if they were exchanging secrets.
Stowing away?
The words flashed through Ha-jin’s mind like lightning. Kang Sung-oh was clearly planning to flee the country by boat. Judging from his anxious demeanor and the condition of the vessel, Ha-jin’s suspicion instantly turned to certainty.
He felt like all the blood in his body had drained away. Kang Sung-oh was trying to escape through illegal means. That could only mean he had committed a serious crime—serious enough that Ha-jin might now be entangled in something life-threatening.
I can’t let him get away!
Panic clouded Ha-jin’s judgment.
He had to stop him—somehow.
His heart thundered in his chest, his vision swam. Not in his right mind, he grabbed a broken piece of lumber lying in a corner.
Just as the coarse grain bit into his palm, someone ambushed him from behind—and everything went black.
***
When he opened his eyes, Yushin was right in front of him, gently wiping the sweat from his forehead with a worried look. It felt like he’d finally escaped a nightmare.
“Hyung, you’ve got a fever. Are you coming down with something?”
“…No.”
But the moment he spoke, his throat tightened in pain and he winced. Yushin, as if expecting it, handed him a warm cup of water.
“You totally are. You were in the water all day yesterday—it was the first day, too. What a great idea.”
“Stay away from me. If it’s contagious, you’re screwed.”
“You can catch a fever?”
“Yeah, go stay in the other room.”
As he slowly sat up, dizziness washed over him. He noticed the white sheets and bedding were soaked through with sweat. Gradually, his senses returned to reality.
It was only 8 p.m. He had come back to the hotel suite earlier in the late afternoon after delivering documents to Kwak Mari’s office, so it hadn’t even been that long. And yet, his body felt like it had been stuffed with wet cotton.
Ha-jin slowly got up, retrieved some fever meds from his bag, and took them. After sending Yushin away with reassurances, he headed for the bathroom and ran hot water for a bath. He figured washing off the sweat and soaking in hot water would help loosen his aching body.
He stripped down and, staggering slightly, lowered himself into the wide tub. A chill swept across his skin. Curled up in the cypress-scented bathwater, Ha-jin’s mind drifted again.
The moment he’d lost consciousness by the dock felt like it had just happened. When he came to, he was inside a dark storage unit. The air reeked—musty, fishy, damp—making the fear hit all the harder.
His wrists and ankles had been tightly bound, and duct tape covered his mouth. When he struggled, trembling with fear, one of the men standing guard came over and grabbed his chin, tilting it this way and that. His grip was brutal.
“Leave him alone.” “The Chairman will handle it himself.” “Omega…” — fragments of conversation drifted around him, but most of it was unintelligible. His vision blurred from the intense heat rising in his body.
Tormented by a sudden, inexplicable fever, Ha-jin began to think he was being punished. He wondered if he might actually die here. But the group didn’t kill him.
They gave him just enough water to stay alive, tearing off the duct tape to let him drink. But whenever he asked about Kang Sung-oh, he was met with a beating.
With no windows, he had no idea how long he’d been trapped. His mind flickered in and out, and he spent more time unconscious than awake. Then one day, the container doors swung open, flooding the space with light.
“You’re lucky the Chairman made it out safely.”
The man untying Ha-jin’s limbs spoke in a chillingly low voice.
“Get up.”
“He can’t even stand.”
“Pull yourself together before I break your legs for good.”
“Just do as you’re told.”
The men in black barked threats as they dragged him out of the container. What he had assumed was a storage unit turned out to be a small shipping container. When they ripped the duct tape off his mouth, it felt like his skin was being torn off too.
A bucket of ice-cold water was dumped over his head.
“Hahhk…!”
The shock snapped him awake—and then, a scent hit him like a truck. Gasping for air, he barely managed to lift his head, only to see Cheon Tae-seong staring down at him, his expression like that of a cold, emotionless statue. Tae-seong clicked his tongue in visible disgust.
“Stop… Stop thinking about it.”
Ha-jin climbed out of the hot tub and rinsed himself off with cold water, scrubbing his face hard—almost irritably. He didn’t want to remember his past life anymore. Soaking in hot water only seemed to drag him deeper into those memories.
Why had that nightmare felt so vivid all of a sudden? After thinking it over, he realized it was because of Joo Yoon-seo.
When he left Kwak Mari’s office after returning the files, it had been raining outside. The parking lot wasn’t far, so he just sprinted for it, but the rain came down harder than expected. In just a few seconds, he was drenched to the scalp.
Maybe that’s what triggered it. The memory surfaced out of nowhere—that it was Joo Yoon-seo who got hurt instead of Chairman Cheon Han-jo at the scene of the attack. That she had gone to his home for a house call and taken the knife in his place. That the Omega doctor who barely survived after a long surgery was named Joo Yoon-seo. He’d overheard the thugs talking about it.
There was no confusion in his memory. He had simply dismissed it as unimportant and forgotten.
But because Cheon Tae-seong had changed, and because the emotional touchpoints between them were multiplying, the pieces of the puzzle—once slightly misaligned—were now fitting perfectly.
And so, Ha-jin came to realize…
Joo Yoon-seo wasn’t just a doctor—she was someone close to Cheon Tae-seong.
That realization hit him hard.
Things he’d only brushed past before were now looming large, tormenting him.
“……”
Ha-jin stared into the mirror.
Was this going to be like last time—missing the right moment to confess, getting swept up again in a fate he couldn’t escape?
Once he uncovered the truth behind Kang Sung-oh and the people backing him… then what?
Could he deliver a real warning to Cheon Tae-seong while still keeping the secret of his regression?
His chest ached suddenly—because he saw a glimpse of the version of himself from months ago, desperately trying to avoid Tae-seong. Back then, he’d thought it’d be enough to send an anonymous tip before anything happened. That kind of naive idea.
Even if the changes were impossible to predict, his conscience still pricked at him. What if he had kept running and only heard about the incident on the news? Would he have been okay? No—he would have regretted it.
Even after everything he’d been through—even dying in that horrific accident—he still hadn’t learned a damn thing.
Why did it always have to hit him square in the face before he understood anything? Ha-jin let out a deep, weary sigh. He felt like such a fool.
When he stepped out of the bathroom in his robe, Lim Han-soo was unexpectedly in the suite. He was sitting across from Yushin, having tea. Yushin waved him over.
“Five more minutes and I was about to bust the door down. I thought you collapsed or something.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes. Well… I took some medicine. The fever’s gone down.”
Ha-jin glanced at Yushin, silently asking if he was the one who let Han-soo in. The answer was no. Just as he was about to speak, Lim Han-soo stood up.
“The CEO has returned to Korea. He’s waiting for you.”
“….”
Ha-jin blinked, momentarily unsure what that meant. Was he still dreaming?
Lim Han-soo raised an arm and gestured toward the suite’s entrance.
“Let’s go. He’s waiting in the next room.”
Even though his face remained stiff with reluctance, Ha-jin’s feet started moving automatically. Yushin jumped up, grabbed his arm, and told him to get changed first—that’s when Ha-jin finally came to his senses. After that vivid dream, it was hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t.
