Min Sanghan recalled the Security Force officer who had stood next to Seo Suho. A strangely familiar face, even though it was someone he was certain he’d never seen before.
“A damn nuisance just had to show up…”
Clicking his tongue in frustration, Min Sanghan stared down at the drug he’d been planning to mix into the tea once Seo Suho stepped into his house. It was the same substance he’d used on the former Captain, so the effect would have been guaranteed.
He had already expected that the soft-hearted Seo Suho would visit out of concern for Lee Minha. That’s why he hadn’t gone to sleep, anxiously waiting for an uncertain arrival—now, that effort felt utterly wasted.
Sealing the container tightly, he glanced toward the bedroom. Since he had thoroughly confined her and only put her to sleep, Lee Minha had remained quiet. She likely hadn’t even noticed Seo Suho had come and gone.
He had detained Lee Minha to keep her from babbling nonsense to Seo Suho and tampered with Min Yugeon’s watch to erase as much evidence as possible. Still, there were traces left unhidden—especially the Disposal Unit, who had yet to be silenced and remained out of contact. That concerned him the most. Which was why, after weighing his options, he concluded it would be best to eliminate Seo Suho as soon as possible.
If only Yeo Wonjin hadn’t overheard the conversation between him and Seo Suho, he might have been able to halt the search for the Disposal Unit. Scowling, Min Sanghan chewed over the image of the person at the end of his growing fury.
That was when it happened.
In the stillness of the room, a chime rang out, signaling someone at the door. When he checked the clock, it was well after Seo Suho had left—more time had passed than he’d realized.
“Who the hell is it now?”
Frowning in confusion, Min Sanghan got up and headed for the entrance. But before he could check who was outside, THUD—a deafening boom echoed as something crashed against the door. He froze in his tracks, startled.
“W-What the hell…”
THUMP. THUMP! The rhythmic pounding continued, growing more forceful with each beat. Min Sanghan’s face hardened. His heart began to pound wildly, a drumbeat of panic.
CRASH! With a final, thunderous impact, the door burst off its hinges.
Armed Security Force officers stormed into the house without his permission.
“Min Sanghan, you’re under arrest on suspicion of murder.”
“What the—!”
He instinctively opened his mouth to protest, but never got the chance. Rough hands twisted his arms back and shackled him. A sharp cry tore from his throat as he dropped to his knees. The sudden, searing pain shooting up from his forcibly bent arm brought tears to his eyes.
“Let go of me! Do you even know who I am?!”
“…”
“If you don’t want to regret this, release me right now!”
Face flushed red with humiliation, Min Sanghan shouted at the top of his lungs. But pressed face-first into the floor, thrashing and barking threats, he no longer posed a threat to anyone.
“What grounds do you even have to arrest me?!”
Still, he wouldn’t stop running his mouth.
“You got proof? You got any fucking proof?!”
“Tch.”
The officers winced as if his voice physically hurt. One of them, muttering that he was unbearably loud, stepped forward.
“Of course we have evidence. That’s why you’re being detained, Mr. Min Sanghan.”
“…What?”
“Someone turned themselves in. They testified to a murder you orchestrated in the past. And that’s just the start—we’ve got more than enough evidence. The Captain’s waiting. You’ll hear the rest soon enough.”
“…!”
Min Sanghan clenched his teeth tightly.
“There’s someone here! But their consciousness…”
One of the officers, who had scattered through the house to gather more evidence, emerged from the bedroom shouting.
…Goddamn it.
Min Sanghan ground his teeth so hard it felt like they might crack.
***
I walked down the hallway, deliberately glancing toward the security camera so my face would be clearly recorded. It needed to be evident that taking Lee Shin had been entirely my decision—so the rest of the team wouldn’t get dragged into it.
When I brought Lee Shin into the lab, he immediately scanned the surroundings like always. His eyes widened in fascination, head whipping from side to side as he sniffed the air.
“Suho smell.”
Glancing at him, I slipped my arms into the sleeves of my lab coat. Then I headed toward the corner and took out high-altitude drop equipment. It was emergency gear kept throughout the ship, even in residential areas.
“Lee Shin.”
With the equipment in hand, I walked up to him. He turned away from the bookshelf he’d been staring at and looked at me. A few strands of hair had fallen over his forehead, so I tucked them neatly behind his ear.
I carefully tied up his hair again and fastened his outerwear snugly, tucking it into his pants. Clothes needed to be tight to minimize air resistance during the fall, but since I didn’t have a proper set for him to change into right now, this was the best I could do—secure it as tightly as possible.
“Nngh…”
“Don’t move.”
I looked at him steadily as he flinched under my touch. His cheeks had flushed slightly. He gave a small nod.
“Watch closely.”
Once I’d finished adjusting his clothes, I began strapping the drop gear to his body slowly, so he could memorize the process. Lee Shin obediently lowered his gaze and followed my movements.
After having him try it himself, I explained everything I knew—when to deploy the parachute, how to land safely, and the steps involved. Then I took the gear off him and packed it away into a bag.
“Is it mine?”
“Yeah.”
I slung the bag over his shoulder as he tilted his head. He blinked, absently touching his shoulder. I cupped his face and met his gaze.
“Lee Shin. Do you really remember how you got onto the ship? Clearly?”
If there was even a slight mistake, he’d be caught immediately. I furrowed my brow, scrutinizing him for any hesitation. But Lee Shin met my eyes with a carefree expression.
“I remember.”
…
All the restlessness and anxiety I’d been carrying suddenly felt pointless. But then again, what good would worrying do now, after I’d already taken him from the observation room?
“Once we reach the exit, just strap it on the way I showed you. You can do that, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go.”
Together, we left my lab. Then, instead of heading toward the main entrance, I moved in the opposite direction across the lobby.
The lobby was still empty, so getting out of the research building itself wouldn’t be difficult. The problem was avoiding the gaze of the soldiers stationed outside the building. That wouldn’t be so easy.
They were usually good about staying at their posts—occasionally negligent, sure, but generally alert. And considering it was the crack of dawn, the sight of me and Lee Shin leaving the lab would draw attention. Just earlier, my visit to the lab had already raised some eyebrows.
So we planned to escape through a special corridor used for transporting beasts. There were no guards stationed there.
“Ah! Here.”
Remembering the route he’d been dragged along, Lee Shin nodded to himself and confidently took the lead. He didn’t seem particularly cautious, but his footsteps made little noise. It looked like he was heeding my earlier warning to move quietly.
The corridor, built to accommodate beasts, was massive—wide and tall enough that it felt more like a long chamber than a hallway. As if to avoid agitating them, the lighting was dim like in the observation rooms. We crossed the space, and the exit came into view.
Wuuuuung…! Creeeaaak.
It didn’t lead directly outside, of course. We still had to pass through a secure door requiring authentication, but I managed that without issue using my researcher ID. The door creaked open with more noise than expected as we stepped past it.
But then—
“Suho.”
“…!”
Lee Shin abruptly grabbed my arm and slammed the door shut, leaving only a narrow gap.
“Someone’s there.”
He whispered to me, now back inside.
“They heard the sound.”
My face tensed as I peered through the door crack. Sure enough, someone was nearby, likely a janitor or building maintenance, peeking around curiously at the noise. Luckily, they didn’t seem to suspect it came from the door.
They failed to notice the slightly ajar door and eventually turned away, walking off. If it hadn’t been for Lee Shin’s uncanny sensitivity, we would’ve run right into them.
“…Clear now?”
When I looked at Lee Shin, he nodded. I pushed the door open even more cautiously this time and stepped outside. Lee Shin followed closely behind, and together we crossed the fence and left the research zone.
By the time the lab was barely a speck behind us, Lee Shin suddenly glanced to the side as we walked.
I tensed, thinking someone might be nearby—but I quickly realized his gaze had fallen on a store preparing to open. A small boutique that sold clothes and accessories.
It wasn’t exactly the time to go shopping, but something about the way Lee Shin was staring made me hold back from rushing him.
“Lee Shin.”
“…That.”
He pointed with his index finger.
The distance was too far to see clearly, so we moved closer to the storefront. Lee Shin was staring intently through the transparent glass at a display shelf, where a plain black hair tie with a small ribbon sat.
“It’s noona’s…”
He spoke in a puzzled tone.
I fell silent. There was no way it could actually be a keepsake from someone who’d died on the surface. It probably just happened to resemble it by coincidence.
“This shop handmakes all its items.”
“…”
Maybe he’d already guessed that too. He went quiet as if my explanation made sense to him.
His shoulders seemed to slump a little, in a strangely dejected way.
