BZZZZZT! Crackle! Snap!
“Grrgh…! AAAAAARGH!”
A violent spark leapt from the bars, and the stench of seared flesh filled the air. Min Sanghan shrieked and convulsed, unable to pull his hands away from the bars.
“This is what happens when you go around startling people. It’s not like I wanted to smell this either.”
Yeo Wonjin let out a sigh and stepped back. The way he grimaced at the stench was more than enough to make Min Sanghan feel utterly humiliated—if only he wasn’t too consumed by the unbearable pain scorching through his body to feel it.
“Ughhk! Guhhh!”
Only after quite some time did the electric current cease. Min Sanghan collapsed to the floor with a thud. The aftershock of a pain unlike anything he had ever endured in his life left his body trembling and refusing to calm.
“Why are you acting like it hurts so much? The people you tortured probably tasted a hell that makes this feel like child’s play.”
Yeo Wonjin’s words didn’t even register. Min Sanghan sat there mumbling mindlessly, dazed and unfocused.
“After everything I went through to survive… you dare treat me like this?”
Covered in soot, a pitiful mess, he rolled his eyes up toward Yeo Wonjin, glaring.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“……”
“I’ll kill every last one of you.”
“And who else are you planning to kill now?”
Yeo Wonjin asked quietly, unmoved by the senseless venom Min Sanghan was spitting.
“Were Suho’s parents and my mother not enough for you?”
His voice, though still laced with a smile, had sunk into a low, biting tone that clashed sharply with his expression.
“……!”
Min Sanghan’s face, once full of venom and murderous rage, suddenly went rigid. Slowly, the blood drained from his expression, replaced by shock and disbelief. He hadn’t anticipated that even the murder of the former Captain had been uncovered.
“I know that you met with my mother the day before she collapsed.”
Yeo Wonjin’s smile faded as he spoke.
He had never been fond of Min Sanghan meeting his mother alone, but as Captain, she was obliged to routinely meet with the heads of each department aboard the ship. She’d met with Min Sanghan to discuss work matters—but by the next day, she was coughing up blood.
“And that you poisoned her tea that day.”
Yeo Wonjin had already obtained a witness statement claiming to have seen Min Sanghan mix poison into the tea. It was only after his mother’s death that he learned the truth—far too late to change anything.
But even knowing that, there was nothing he could do but watch. Other than the witness, there was no additional evidence. If Min Sanghan refused to confess and accused the witness of lying, the case would turn into a battle of testimonies, and Yeo Wonjin’s judgment would be called into question for believing one side without concrete proof.
In the end, Min Sanghan had been arrested for his crimes against Seo Suho and his family—but it wasn’t for that particular murder.
…What would satisfy Seo Suho?
It had been Min Yugeon who gave Seo Suho the opportunity to condemn Min Sanghan once and for all. Even so, this was how Yeo Wonjin could give Suho a choice. He quelled the simmering desire to torture the man who had killed his mother and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again.
If Seo Suho was satisfied, then he would be too.
Yeo Wonjin looked down at Min Sanghan. His eyes, untouched by even the faintest glimmer of light, were shadowed and void.
Bzzzzt.
A familiar vibration made Yeo Wonjin turn his head. The screen of his watch was blinking.
It was the message he’d been waiting for—the one about Seo Suho.
***
Sun Woosung walked briskly with a rigid expression. His heart was pounding faster than it ever had in his life. Thump, thump—each beat came with a heavy pain, as if his heart were physically dragging him down. Cold sweat trickled down his cheek and splattered on the ground.
Had he ever felt such overwhelming fear before?
“Colonel!”
Even the voices calling out to him barely registered. Every time someone tried to stop him, he instinctively shoved them aside, barreling forward, driven by the coordinates burned into his mind.
“……”
He moved like a man stripped of all sensation, until he finally snapped back to reality when a sharp wind lashed across his skin. His hair whipped about violently as the sudden chill seeped into his flesh.
He recognized this air.
Soldiers clustered near a wide-open entrance turned to look at him. One of them stepped forward and saluted, beginning to speak—but Sun Woosung didn’t need to hear it.
It was nothing more than a repetition of what he already knew.
Seo Suho had fallen—together with a survivor—at this very location.
“Are you certain?”
At the mechanically delivered question, the soldier gave a firm nod.
“Yes, sir.”
Upon hearing that the survivor had descended while holding Seo Suho in their arms—at the exact moment the team arrived—Sun Woosung clenched his fists so tightly that even his short, blunt nails dug into his skin, drawing blood.
A storm of impulses scattered through his mind. He wanted to make the soldiers guarding this place pay for their incompetence. He wanted to leap off the edge and chase after Seo Suho, even knowing full well that all he’d get from such a reckless act was a meaningless death.
…He never should’ve brought him back in the first place.
Capturing the survivor had been a mistake from the start.
Contrary to his cold demeanor, Seo Suho was deeply compassionate. It was obvious now that he’d intended to set the survivor free. Reports confirmed he hadn’t been wearing high-altitude drop gear. That meant he hadn’t planned to leave—not of his own volition.
Sun Woosung stared down at the world sprawling beneath the ship, his eyes boring holes into the earth, as if he could spot Seo Suho’s fading silhouette.
“He’s alive.”
A voice he knew well reached his ears, breaking through his thoughts.
Turning his head, Sun Woosung saw Yeo Wonjin, who had arrived unnoticed. His pale face was set against the rough wind that whipped his clothes violently as he strode forward.
“Bring him back.”
“……”
“No matter what it takes.”
It wasn’t conviction that Seo Suho had survived—it was a fragile, desperate hope, clinging to faith that felt dangerously close to obsession.
Sun Woosung stared into those eyes, eyes that mirrored his own. Had Yeo Wonjin not given that order, Sun Woosung had already decided to go to the surface on his own. But today, that look in his eyes was something he welcomed.
He lowered his head in silent acknowledgment.
***
With access to Research Building B granted by the Captain, Sun Woosung stepped into the observation room. His footsteps echoed as he made his way toward the barrier. As he approached, S8A152, who had been resting with his body curled up, raised his head.
-……
Always by Seo Suho’s side, the moment he saw Sun Woosung, the creature instinctively rolled his eyes around, looking for Suho. But as he scanned the room and found no one else, his eyes narrowed and his tail struck the floor with a sharp thud.
It was an unmistakable display of displeasure at Seo Suho’s absence. Sun Woosung knew all too well that S8A152 only cared about Seo Suho.
Grrrrrr…!
Only after confirming that Suho was truly not present did S8A152 fully unleash his murderous intent. His glossy eyes widened, lips pulling back to reveal sharp, gleaming fangs. Sun Woosung watched, unmoved.
Through long observation, it had become clear that S8A152 had learned Seo Suho didn’t appreciate him acting hostile toward Sun Woosung. As a result, the creature had gradually reduced his outward aggression—though “reduced” might be generous. It was more accurate to call it indifference.
Of course, that only applied when Seo Suho was present. Sun Woosung had never expected the beast to remain docile in his absence. That’s why he remained unshaken.
Rrrrrrrr.
The guttural growl, low and menacing, rumbled like a threat to break through the barrier and tear Sun Woosung limb from limb. The fury in the sound all but screamed, How dare you show up alone without Seo Suho? And in that fury, Sun Woosung saw a faint validation—that all the time he had spent facing down this beast hadn’t been entirely in vain.
Taking another step closer to the barrier, Sun Woosung looked directly at the creature and spoke.
“Cut the noise and listen.”
His voice was slow, measured, relying on Seo Suho’s claim that the creature could understand speech to some degree.
“You remember where you used to live, don’t you?”
Growl!
“I mean the land where monsters like you come from.”
S8A152 bared his teeth menacingly and began dragging his claws across the floor, leaving deep scratches. He seemed ready to ignore anything Sun Woosung said.
But then, his ears twitched, standing alert.
Sun Woosung caught the subtle shift and knew the beast was listening.
“Seo Suho is there now.”
-……
“Your master is in danger.”
S8A152 shut his mouth, hiding his fangs like a well-forged blade being sheathed.
He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to parse the meaning of Sun Woosung’s words, falling into a strange silence. It was hard to tell whether he understood or not.
Sun Woosung spoke again.
“You might never see him again.”
-……!
This time, the reaction was immediate. The creature’s eyes flew wide open, his jaw dropping—just like a human’s would in shock.
Judging from that, he’d understood. Fully.
Staring at the visibly shaken S8A152, Sun Woosung said in a low voice:
“I’m going to bring Seo Suho back.”
S8A152 remained frozen, his eyes locked onto Sun Woosung.
And to that beast, Sun Woosung began explaining why he had come.
