Even for Min Sanghan, it was a deeply unsettling thing to deal with his own family with his own hands, no matter how heartless he could be.
Min Sanghan scowled, staring intently at Lee Minha.
“Talk. Why the hell did you try to tell Suho? You’ve kept your mouth shut all this time.”
“……”
Lee Minha glared back at him, biting her lip.
“Because I regret it.”
“What?”
“I stayed silent, and because of that, you ended up trying to hurt Suho… which is why Yugeon nearly died trying to protect him.”
Her chest ached at the thought of Min Yugeon, still unconscious. Her desperate desire to keep her son from being buried under the brutal stigma of being a murderer’s child had instead pushed him to the brink of death.
How Min Yugeon had uncovered his father’s plot or how he’d managed to save Seo Suho—none of that mattered to Lee Minha.
What mattered more was blaming herself for not realizing, despite knowing how deeply Min Yugeon loved Seo Suho, that he would sacrifice himself for him without hesitation.
“Yugeon nearly died at the hands of his own father!”
Lee Minha’s voice broke into a scream. At that, Min Sanghan uncrossed his legs and shot to his feet.
“What do you think I was gonna do to him?! That kid ran headfirst into danger on his own!”
His voice rose into a furious shout, his face flushing an angry red.
“And he ruined everything! Every part of my plan!”
His rage spilled out, drenched in contempt for Min Yugeon.
Lee Minha stared at him in disbelief.
It wasn’t hard to figure out that the “plan” Min Sanghan was shouting about stemmed from some long-held ambition of his. Being the lab director wasn’t enough anymore—now he was desperate to climb to the position of Captain.
But what horrified Lee Minha even more was the realization that Min Sanghan felt no guilt or even the faintest remorse toward Min Yugeon.
Lee Minha had thought she’d seen the lowest depths of this man’s depravity—but her body began to tremble, as if recoiling from the discovery of something deeper and even more repulsive.
“Regret? Did you say you regret it?”
Min Sanghan stormed up to her face, glaring and jabbing a finger at her.
“So what? Things have already gone this far, and now you think telling Suho will change anything? You just want revenge because I hurt Yugeon!”
“Wh-what are you saying…!”
“You’re not trying to tell Suho out of guilt or anything noble… You’re just being disgustingly self-righteous.”
The scornful sneer on Min Sanghan’s face filled Lee Minha with humiliation. If she weren’t tied up, she would’ve slapped him across the face without hesitation. The fear that had taken root from being restrained and helpless turned into seething rage.
“Yeah! I’m a hypocrite.”
She shouted sharply.
“But I’m still better than you—pretending to be some noble adult in front of the children of your dead friends, when you’re the one who killed them!”
“……!”
Min Sanghan, who had been breathing heavily in fury, faltered for a moment.
“You were so consumed with inferiority and jealousy that you killed those two and snatched the director’s seat, and now you want to bury the past by killing Suho too… You’re nothing but a coward who hides behind dirty tricks! I may be a hypocrite, but I’m not you!”
“Y-You—!”
“Oh, please. Is there even anyone more hypocritical than you?”
Her raw, unfiltered condemnation struck him at his most sensitive spot, and Min Sanghan’s face turned a blazing red, like it might explode.
His fists, clenched tightly, trembled violently. Then, with a cold glare locked onto Lee Minha, he made a decision.
***
Even without a guardian present, the hospital still provided most of the necessary care, so I wasn’t too worried about Min Yugeon’s condition. Still, just as the doctor had said, I hoped that when Yugeon opened his eyes, he wouldn’t find himself alone—that there would at least be a family member nearby who could rush to his side.
Min Yugeon always acted like I was his top priority, but even I couldn’t provide the kind of familial love he might need. He’d always gotten along well with Lee Minha, so I wished it would be his mother—someone he could lean on—who’d be the first person he saw when he woke up.
I wondered if Lee Minha had gone to the hospital today. I still couldn’t reach her, but since we had a meeting scheduled for this evening, I planned to ask then if something had happened.
“Watch your step. Stairs.”
Sun Woosung’s deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He even extended one arm slightly in front of me, blocking my path so I couldn’t move forward.
I must’ve been completely out of it while walking. Embarrassment brushed over me.
“…Thank you.”
If not for him, I probably would’ve missed a step. I gave a small nod of gratitude and started descending the stairs slowly, watching my feet.
We were on our way to lunch after finishing our morning session of building rapport with Cat. Since we typically moved separately from the rest of the team, I ended up traveling with Sun Woosung most of the time. That was probably why the other team members always seemed oddly pleased whenever they spotted us in the cafeteria.
“Is something troubling you?”
As soon as we stepped off the last stair, he asked a question that felt strangely familiar. I looked at him, feeling a little sheepish.
“Do I look like I am?”
“Yes.”
His black eyes were fixed on me, and his posture, though facing forward, was subtly tilted in my direction. Sun Woosung was always ready to listen, but for some reason, today that attitude felt unfamiliar—strange, even.
Ah… I swallowed a quiet breath as the reason clicked into place.
Had he ever come to the lab dressed like this?
It was so natural, I hadn’t noticed until now—he wasn’t in his usual formal uniform but was instead wearing combat gear, with a gun holstered at his waist.
“It’s not that I’m troubled… I was just thinking about the appointment I have later this evening.”
“You have plans tonight?”
“Yes.”
“…I see.”
Sun Woosung gave a small nod and fell silent. Ever since I’d made it clear I didn’t appreciate his concern, he’d stopped prying into my personal matters. That made things a bit easier on me, though I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. Maybe I’d drawn the line too harshly back then.
It was like… even though he tried to hide it, there was still a kind of quiet emotion flickering in the way he looked at me.
“……”
Suddenly, Sun Woosung turned his head and looked in a particular direction. When I followed his gaze, I spotted Min Sanghan walking toward us.
The sight of him gave me a slight sense of unease, but I nodded silently in greeting.
“Team Leader Seo, Colonel Sun Woosung.”
Min Sanghan responded to my gesture with a warm smile and came to a stop in front of us.
“…?”
Just then, Sun Woosung subtly stepped in front of me, closing the distance enough that our bodies were nearly touching. I glanced at him, puzzled, but all I saw was his unreadable, expressionless face.
Min Sanghan didn’t seem to notice anything strange. Still calm, he spoke to me.
“You weren’t in the lab, so here you are. Looks like you’re heading to lunch.”
“Yes. Was there something urgent—?”
“No, I was just going to ask if you’d like to eat together today.”
The way he looked straight into my face as he said it made it clear—he wanted to spend time with me alone. It wasn’t unusual for us to have lunch together now and then, so it shouldn’t have felt odd.
“How about that place we went to last time, Team Leader Seo?”
And yet…
I stared at Sun Woosung, then turned my gaze back to Min Sanghan.
Unpleasant memories started surfacing and weaving together in my head. The nonsense Min Sanghan had spouted when I ran into Yeo Wonjin on the hospital path, how indifferent he’d been even when I mentioned the hospital searching for Min Yugeon’s guardian. The growing unease I’d been feeling toward him in recent days resurfaced with full clarity.
I’d always accepted his lunch invitations without hesitation—but today, I couldn’t.
“I’m sorry.”
For the first time, I turned him down.
“I already made plans to have lunch with Colonel Sun Woosung.”
“…Is that so?”
The smile faded slightly from Min Sanghan’s face. He shifted his gaze toward Sun Woosung.
Sun Woosung met his eyes with his lips tightly sealed.
“……”
“……”
As far as I knew, the two of them had no direct connection. But the look in Sun Woosung’s eyes was far too cold for someone facing a neutral acquaintance.
Min Sanghan seemed to notice it too. His expression tensed slightly, as if trying to make sense of the intensity in Sun Woosung’s stare.
After a long silence, the first to speak was Min Sanghan.
“No helping it, I suppose. Next time for sure, Suho.”
He stepped forward and lightly patted my shoulder. Sun Woosung’s gaze was locked on the motion, his eyes unblinking.
Noticing that, Min Sanghan didn’t offer any more pleasantries. He simply turned and walked away.
As the tension lingered in the air, I glanced at Sun Woosung’s face and quietly asked,
“Shall we go, then?”
“Yes.”
I wanted to ask what kind of relationship he had with Min Sanghan—but it felt too intrusive, so I kept the question to myself. Sun Woosung stayed silent too, walking beside me in step.
…And that evening, after all of the day’s work at the lab was finished—
I went to the agreed-upon meeting place.
But Lee Minha never showed up.
