PTT - 37

- Target's left wrist will be neutralized. Maintain position and avoid movement.

Though the voice in the earpiece didn’t explicitly identify itself, there was no mistaking it belonged to Baek Siheon. Three, two, one—the countdown sent everyone’s nerves into overdrive.  

In this life-or-death situation, even the slightest error could not be tolerated. No one dared breathe, fearing even the flow of air might disrupt the delicate balance. Holding her breath, Raon fixed her hawk-like gaze on the target ahead.  

The instant his fingertip was about to touch the switch—  

BANG! A gunshot echoed from afar. At the same moment, Professor Gwak let out a pained scream, his fingers splayed open as he released the detonator. The officers’ eyes instinctively darted toward the source of the shot.  

But unlike the others, Raon didn’t waste time searching for Siheon. Rolling swiftly in a tight circle, she closed the distance to Gwak and snatched the fallen detonator with lightning speed.  

Without hesitation, she rose to her feet and retreated immediately. The professor was too consumed by agony to notice her presence.  

“Aaah! Hng... haa...”  

“Detonator secured.”  

“Alpha Team, move in for suppression!”  

Raon and Jung Ichul’s gazes met briefly in the air. Confirming that the device threatening everyone’s lives was now in safe hands, Ichul signaled forward with a sharp chop of his hand.  

Four members of the Counter-Terrorism Team, clad in bulletproof vests and helmets, moved as one, swift and precise. Subduing Gwak, who was writhing on the ground clutching his injured arm, proved to be an easy task.  

“Suspect apprehended. Proceed with internal building sweeps to ensure no further threats remain.”  

Finally exhaling in relief, Deputy Leader Ichul radioed Detective Cheon. In less than thirty minutes, how many times had their hearts nearly stopped? Carefully taking the detonator from Raon, he spoke into his earpiece.  

“You haven’t lost your touch, Nox. That was a perfect shot. One wrong move, and we’d all have been on our way to the afterlife. Alright, pull back from the adjacent building—I’ll see you later.”  

Whether the line was private between him and Siheon, Raon couldn’t hear the latter’s response. However, based on their exchange, it seemed the two shared a history. Perhaps Siheon was also a former NIS agent.  

Her heart continued to race, refusing to calm down. Leaning her head against Mabel’s shoulder, who had quietly approached, Raon exhaled slowly. Though the immediate crisis had ended, unease lingered—it wasn’t time to lower their guard yet.  

While Raon’s mind burned with tension, the sky above remained oblivious, painted a clear blue. Spring showed no mercy, its warmth persisting despite the chaos below.  

--- 

Positioning Baek Siheon as a sniper was an impeccable decision, leaving no room for criticism.  

Leadership, including Deputy Leader Ichul, had already anticipated his involvement. Thanks to this foresight, Siheon delivered a flawless shot at the most critical moment, without a fraction of error.  

Professor Gwak was promptly transferred to an interrogation room within the NIS headquarters. Since his injury wasn’t life-threatening, he was treated in the facility’s medical bay. Given the media attention surrounding him, sending him to an external hospital was out of the question. Once recovered, countless truths awaited extraction from him. Who would handle his interrogation remained undecided.  

Amidst the chaos of the operation, Raon hadn’t even glimpsed Siheon before returning to the office. She wanted to speak with him but had pressing matters to address first. Alone in the empty shooting range, Raon sighed deeply.  

‘It wasn’t an accident. Clearly… she deliberately aimed at me.’  

Though Diane’s eyes had smiled in the darkness, Raon’s instincts detected malice beneath the surface. Something had felt off from the start. Her uncanny resemblance to Jeong Ah-young, the chilling atmosphere, and…  

Creak. The heavy iron door designed to muffle gunshots swung open. Raon turned her head sharply to confirm the visitor.  

“Oh, I wanted to practice shooting here. After seeing Team Leader’s skills earlier… I realized I need more training. Besides, my lack of proficiency almost hurt you earlier.”  

It was Diane. Smiling brightly, she stepped inside as the door slammed shut behind her with a dull thud. When had she changed into heels? Her height seemed slightly elevated.  

Wearing a mask of feigned warmth, Diane approached Raon, her neatly cropped bob brushing against her shoulders.  

When anger exceeds its limits, some say it doesn’t boil over but instead grows eerily calm. At this moment, Raon was like still water—perfectly tranquil.  

“Right?”  

“Hmm? If you suddenly ask without context, I don’t know how to respond.”  

“Cut the crap and let’s be honest.”  

Why had she feared this person so much? Why had her stomach churned with nausea? She wasn’t weak enough to be shaken by facing the remnants of her past.  

Diane paused mid-motion while adjusting her goggles, scratching her cheek with her index finger. Her lips curved into a smile, but her eyes held no warmth. She, too, instinctively sensed that Raon had figured out her true identity.  

“Still enjoying pushing people into pits and watching them squirm? Your nasty habit hasn’t changed in ten years, Jeong Ah-young.”  

“…Tsk.”  

Diane moved her hand from her cheek to her mouth, lightly tracing her lower lip as if contemplating how to respond.  

〈What should we do about our poor little Sayeon, who’s lost her fear?〉  

Her feigned innocence mirrored the Jeong Ah-young from the past, down to the bone-chilling resemblance. Finally, Diane—or rather, Ah-young—licked her lower lip and let out a small, mocking laugh.  

“So? What of it?”  

“…What did you just say?”  

“Are you deaf? Did you catch it from your grandmother? Already losing your hearing at this rate, Sayeon-ah?”

“Sayeon-ah.” The overly familiar term of endearment sent a shiver down Raon’s spine. Ten years ago, and even now, to Ah-young, Raon was nothing more than the pitiful, poverty-stricken Yu-sim-yeon.  

Her eyes turned icy in an instant as she brushed her hair back, a sneer slipping past her lips.  

“So what do you want me to do about it? Do you even know where we are? This is the NIS, for heaven’s sake. What exactly do you think you can achieve by stirring things up here? Oh, did you just feel nostalgic for our school days or something?”  

“…”  

“Don’t get any ideas. I’m not exactly thrilled about this reunion either. What were those higher-ups thinking, hiring someone so beneath our standards?”  

Ah-young flicked Raon’s shoulder twice with the tip of her long index finger—lightly, almost mockingly. It wasn’t the force that stung; it was the humiliation. Clicking her tongue, she lowered her gaze with a deliberately insolent expression.  

“Do you really think I shot at you on purpose earlier? I told you, it was a mistake. If you’ve got proof, bring it. I already knew you were drowning in inferiority and delusions back then, but your old tricks are getting tiresome. Whether we like it or not, we’ll have to keep seeing each other. So why don’t we try to get along without making things awkward?”  

“Huh?” Her smug, sly smile took on a devilish form. Jeong Ah-young had grown up wanting—and taking—everything she desired, never lacking anything.  

Ten years ago, she needed first place in the youth shooting competition. Now, as Diane, she craved recognition within Special Team 4. And gaining the attention of their team leader, Nox, was yet another item on her growing list of ambitions.  

“Sorry, but… are you mute? I’ve been talking myself hoarse here. By the way, how’s your grandmother doing? Still frail like a sick chicken?”  

Ah-young whispered softly, as if trying to conserve her voice, barely audible. But Raon gave no response. Had she lost the will to fight back? At least in their school days, there had been some semblance of resistance.  

As Ah-young stared indifferently at the bowed head before her, a low, steady voice pierced through the tension.  

“Isn’t it time to stop these childish games, Jeong Ah-young? Do you still think the world revolves around you?”  

“…What?”  

“The Yu-sim-yeon from back then might have succumbed to reality, but the one standing here now won’t. You have no idea how far I’m willing to go.”  

Raon’s cold, twisted smirk spoke volumes. Over ten years, she had grown stronger—not just physically, but mentally. Even if memories of the past occasionally made her vulnerable, she had learned that submission changed nothing.  

“Agh! Are you insane?”  

There was one thing Raon would never tolerate being touched: her grandmother.  

SLAP! With all her strength, Raon struck Ah-young’s cheek. Her face remained chillingly calm as she murmured, watching the once-pale skin flush red like blusher.  

“Why? Don’t have your gang of boys to protect you anymore? All of this is your doing anyway.”  

Raon thrust the back of her right hand toward Ah-young’s face. Though over a decade had passed since treatment, the scar left by the golf club head was still vivid. Clutching her swelling cheek with a venomous expression, Ah-young let out a loud, mocking laugh, as if daring Raon to continue.  

“Do you like my masterpiece? You should’ve known your place after crippling your hand. Shall I break the other one too?”  

This person was incapable of feeling guilt. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Raon raised her hand high into the air once more.  

“…What are you doing?”  

At that moment, the heavy iron door creaked open, and a familiar voice rang out. As if choreographed, both Ah-young and Raon turned their heads to the left simultaneously.