Chapter 17

Days had passed since Subject 330 crossed the border from the North, yet the investigation remained lukewarm. Just when something substantial seemed about to surface, the subject would clamp his mouth shut, retreating into silence time and time again.

Two North Korean soldiers in uniform had crossed near the Military Demarcation Line on foot. The moment the South Korean surveillance systems detected them, one committed suicide by ingesting poison, while the other claimed defection.

Yet despite his claims of defection, the defector refused to utter another word on anything else, nor had he brought any intelligence with him. Even though two soldiers from a frontline unit had vanished, not a single reaction could be detected from the North.

Under these circumstances, G2’s failure to extract any meaningful statements posed the gravest problem. As the probe remained stalled, journalists had caught scent of the story and grown persistent. The matter was critical enough that real-time briefings on a single defector were exceptionally submitted all the way to the Presidential Office, yet progress lagged on every front.

Still, having received word yesterday that the subject had finally been transferred to a safe house, the Joint Chiefs of Staff could only hope to gain something through direct interrogation.

Waiting at a red light, Se-woong tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as his gaze fixed on the road ahead. He was mentally organizing the briefing points to present to the Chairman the moment he arrived at headquarters, when a familiar figure on the sidewalk caught his eye. That conspicuously tall frame belonged to a silhouette he knew all too well. Perhaps the one he knew best in the world. It was almost surprising it had taken him this long to recognize it.

Hesitating for a moment over whether he should simply drive past or pull over to offer a ride, Se-woong eased into the right lane and crept toward the curb. Spending time with Lee Shin first thing in the morning would surely leave him unsettled, but driving by pricked his conscience. Besides, if Shin so much as glanced sideways, getting caught was only a matter of time.

Fortunately, no vehicles were approaching from behind. When Se-woong gave a light tap on the horn, the tall figure strolling with hands thrust in his trouser pockets turned toward the car.

“Major.”

Lowering the driver’s side window, Se-woong leaned across the console to address him.

At first, the title had felt dreadfully unnatural on his tongue, but now ‘Major’ tumbled from his lips far more easily than ‘Shin-ah.’ Working together in the same office over the past few days had made him even more accustomed to it.

Even though his home was close to headquarters, rush hour traffic was absolute hell. Coupled with the poor public transit typical of affluent residential areas, Lee Shin often commuted on foot or by bicycle like this. His innate distaste for driving also played a part, as he much preferred physical movement.

“Allow me to give you a lift, sir,” Se-woong offered with a faint nod.

Peering inside the car, Shin offered a strikingly handsome smile.

The moment Shin climbed into the passenger seat, the car filled with his distinct scent—a heavy, yet refreshing aroma of crisp wood. Bringing with him the brisk chill of early morning, Shin clicked his seatbelt into place, and Se-woong waited quietly without shifting into drive until he was secure.

Adjusting the passenger air vent with an amused half-smile, Shin remarked, “I must be lucky then.”

“You see more than enough of me at the office,” Se-woong retorted smoothly.

Leaning his head back against the headrest, Shin teased, “I never get tired of it. In fact, I wish the task force would never end. I’m actually debating whether to drag out the 330 case a bit longer just for that.”

“You really are something…” Se-woong shook his head, gripping the wheel. “…Fine. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Shin murmured softly.

A vibrant crimson flushed Se-woong’s ears.

Perhaps because they were enclosed in a private space without watching eyes or listening ears, Se-woong had unthinkingly slipped into informal speech. After using honorifics constantly for the past few days, one might expect him to be thoroughly conditioned by now, but old habits proved terrifyingly stubborn. Of course, a few brief days could hardly compete with a decade of shared history.

Watching Se-woong, Shin bit the inside of his lip to stifle a laugh. It was almost absurd that he had to be so cautious about smiling, lest Se-woong notice and hastily revert his tone, but it amused him all the same.

Glancing past the passenger seat to check the right side mirror, Se-woong smoothly guided the steering wheel.

“What about you?” Se-woong asked, keeping his eyes on the road. “Did you get any sleep last night? Are you even sleeping these days?”

Shin relished hearing Cha Se-woong worry over him without second thoughts. It felt just like old times.

Letting out a faint, weary sigh, he said, “More like closed my eyes for a bit than actually slept. What about you, Se-woong? You left early yesterday. Did you sleep well?”

“Nothing special,” Se-woong muttered evasively.

Checking the clear morning sky through the windshield, Shin offered, “The weather looks nice today. If the wind dies down later, head up to the rooftop and catch a nap. I’ll give you ten minutes.”

“…Thanks,” Se-woong murmured with a quiet, wry smile.

With an amused chuckle, Shin asked, “Why is it so easy to get gratitude out of Cha Se-woong today?”

A road that was usually congested to the point where crawling ten meters took an eternity was wide open today, perhaps owing to the early hour. For once, Se-woong thought he would not mind a traffic jam, yet the entrance to headquarters looming ahead was already far too close.

“Oh, right. I received a wedding invitation from Professor Kim Won-joon,” Se-woong mentioned casually. “Did you hear from him too, Shin?”

Shin turned his head sharply. “The military law professor? You’re still in touch with him?”

“Just exchanging occasional regards by email,” Se-woong explained, keeping both hands on the wheel. “Remember, I used to consider becoming a Judge Advocate.”

“And he’s only getting married now? That’s exceptionally late. Isn’t he pushing sixty by now?” Shin scoffed.

Shin’s voice dripped with indifference. Even acting like this now, he would surely play the devoted disciple of a millennium if they met face-to-face.

Se-woong gave an incredulous scoff. “Hey, he’s not that old. He isn’t even fifty yet. When we took his class, he must have been in his thirties.”

“Why on earth do you remember that in such vivid detail?” Shin muttered.

“Well, he did look… a bit older than his age,” Se-woong conceded, reflecting back. “It was probably because he was in the field so long, studying for the national exam out in the garrisons…”

Cutting in with a dry rasp, Shin countered, “Cha Se-woong. I couldn’t care less why your military law professor looks so old.”

Shin would happily listen to anything Se-woong had to say, but stories about another man were a different matter entirely. Especially since that military law professor was someone Se-woong had been quite close with during the period when their own relationship was strained.

Naturally, Shin remembered the professor well. The man was nowhere near sixty, let alone fifty, and had been promoted to lieutenant colonel the year after they graduated. Se-woong likely had no idea, but Shin even knew the professor had once attempted to discharge and join a major law firm, only to remain in uniform when the transition fell through.

There was no elaborate motive behind Shin’s extensive knowledge. Simply put, Se-woong had sought career counseling from the professor multiple times, and because the reserved officer kept so few people close, Shin had naturally gathered intelligence on one of the rare individuals Se-woong maintained regular contact with.

“…Ah, and Shin-ah, I heard from my second brother,” Se-woong added hesitantly.

Ah. I care even less about his second brother.

Cha Se-woong’s second older brother. What on earth had Cha Se-gyeom—who was also Shin’s brother-in-law—said to prompt Se-woong to address him so tenderly?

It felt as though someone had rung a bell signaling that his allotted time had expired, dragging him abruptly back into reality.

Fingering the steering wheel nervously, Se-woong ventured, “Today… well, the Chief of Staff of the Army is visiting headquarters. He suggested I might stop by to pay my respects.”

“…”

“Nothing good would come from drawing attention,” Se-woong continued, his tone softening. “So I’m thinking of making a quick trip to Camp Casey instead. I actually had business there anyway. That being said… please pass along my regards to your father.”

Hearing his own father mentioned from Se-woong’s lips felt as surreal and distant as hearing about the president of a foreign nation.

“Do you talk to your brother often?” Shin asked in a subdued tone.

Se-woong glanced over with a puzzled blink. “Who, Se-gyeom-hyung?”

Shin noticed Se-woong gnawing at the thumbnail of his left hand, the one not resting on the wheel. It was a habit he had never possessed before. Se-woong trimmed his nails so short there should hardly have been anything left for his teeth to grip.

“Just normal check-ins,” Se-woong murmured, lowering his hand. “Don’t brothers usually keep in touch at least this much?”

Ever since their days at the Korea Military Academy, Shin had resented the exceptional bond shared among the Cha brothers. After losing their parents in an accident, the three boys had banded tightly together to build upright, respectable lives. The fact that all three had grown up admirably without a single flaw was deeply touching in its own right, but that very tenderness made their brotherly devotion an eyesore to Shin.

Speaking of his eldest brother, Se-woong’s face was almost invariably filled with warmth and smiles. From what Shin had gathered, the eldest was born cheerful and naturally affectionate. In contrast, whenever he mentioned his second brother, a tinge of sorrow clouded his expression. He had once mentioned that the second brother had made immense sacrifices for both him and the eldest.

The affectionate eldest brother was one thing, but Shin especially detested that second brother. A man who appeared cold and stoic at first glance was utterly devoted to Se-woong, and the fact that Se-woong was particularly vulnerable to that second brother left Shin perpetually uneasy.

And ultimately, things had turned out exactly like this. They had ended up facing each other at the formal family meeting for that cherished second brother’s upcoming wedding. Recalling Se-woong gazing blankly at him across the banquet table on that fateful day, Shin simply shut his eyes.

“Um… is… sister-in-law doing well?” Se-woong asked timidly.

Clicking his tongue in bitter distaste at the mention, Shin muttered, “…Sister-in-law, my foot.”

“…”

Gazing out the passenger window, Shin stated flatly, “I have no idea. I don’t care how my sister lives, and I’ve never kept in touch with her like that.”

In stark contrast, Shin possessed zero affection for his older sister, Lee Young. In fact, calling it a lack of affection was too generous; there simply was no warmth between them whatsoever. While their inherent personalities certainly contributed, Shin’s sheer exhaustion with the endless trail of disasters Lee Young caused played an even greater role.

In short, Lee Young had been the family troublemaker. Running away during high school and drinking until the police called home had been regular occurrences. Sure, that could be chalked up to adolescent turbulence. Shin could generously write off those teenage years as the volatile growing pains of an artistic temperament.

Yet the moment she turned twenty, she turned the household upside down by shacking up with an unknown man. She totaled vehicles in drunk driving accidents and even gambled overseas. Shin refused to view his sister as someone of sound mind.

With Lee Young acting this way, it was only natural that their father’s expectations fell squarely upon his son. Shin merely played along with his demanding father because he despised a noisy home, but in the end, that compliance had thoroughly satisfied the patriarch. As time went on, his father’s ambitions only expanded—a dynamic that remained an ongoing reality to this day.

There was an immense difference between shouldering an only child’s share within a household and carrying the weight of two because one’s sibling was completely incompetent. Even more so when living under the thumb of a greedy, authoritarian father.

In a way, Shin’s enrollment at the military academy—despite having had no initial desire to become a soldier—was also because of Lee Young. Back then, she had caused a catastrophic scandal, and he had entered the academy simply to divert their father’s wrath. Once enrolled, the military life suited his constitution well enough that he forgot how it all started. Thanks to that decision, he had met Cha Se-woong. And because of Lee Young, they had parted ways once more.

“Major, we’ve arrived,” Se-woong announced, easing the car to a smooth stop.

Shin wished the journey had been longer, feeling a pang of regret at how quickly the brief morning commute had slipped away.