Chapter 75

“Seoul, please come this way,” Yu Jeong-ham called out.

Bowing nervously, Geum Seoul greeted him, “Hello. Good morning.”

Surprised by the formal bow, Yu Jeong-ham waved his hands in flustered protest, telling him not to be so polite.

After spending two more days at the safehouse, Geum Seoul had been cleared by Oh Ga-on, who confirmed he had virtually recovered. Gye Do-hyeop had departed the country for his overseas sanction the day prior, and Geum Seoul had traveled here in Yu Jeong-ham’s car.

“You remember our Da-ol, right? Our Da-ol finally finished basement duty and returned to the team today,” Yu Jeong-ham introduced with a smile.

And starting two days ago, Geum Seoul had begun reporting to the headquarters of the National Special Security Agency. The bite marks Gye Do-hyeop had painted across his body had faded into ordinary-looking bruises over the past few days, conveniently blending in with his facial contusions to pass as traces of physical assault.

I’m temporarily hiring you under a special appointment, so stay at the staff quarters for a while.

Those were the words the deputy director had dropped over breakfast. Geum Seoul had been so shocked that he hadn’t even realized whether the bread was entering his nose or his mouth as he listened to the subsequent explanation.

Do-hyeop had explained that although they had severed the ties between Noh Pil-gyu and Gwak Chun-young enough to secure an arrest warrant, the bribes Gwak had scattered across various circles would soon begin to take effect. People would mobilize to spring Gwak from custody as quickly as possible, and with his vault vaporized, there was no telling how the furious chairman might scheme next.

They would certainly round up and pressure his subordinates, but that would happen after Do-hyeop returned from his sanction. Until then, Geum Seoul was to remain within the ministry compound.

It’s the safest place when I’m not around.

It was just as Gye Do-hyeop had said. Geum Seoul spent literally twenty-four hours a day in the company of NSSA personnel. They worked in the headquarters by day, and when shifts concluded, they all commuted to the same dormitory complex.

The unit allocated to Geum Seoul was a modest apartment featuring a single bedroom, living room, and bath, yet to someone who had spent his entire life in a cramped storage shack, it was nothing short of a palace. Moreover, every neighbor—front, adjacent, above, below, and next door—was an NSSA operative.

The residential building was connected directly to headquarters via an underground passage, and passage through the gates required biometric badge scans, making all movements completely secure.

Eco-Friendly Energy Research Complex.

When Seoul first arrived, an enormous sign bearing those words stood outside the perimeter wall. Every public mapping service identified the compound the same way, and unauthorized personnel were forbidden from crossing the barrier under any circumstance. From the dormitory windows, one could look down over the central courtyard. The headquarters and residential buildings contained their own dry cleaner, cafeteria, and cafés, leaving almost no practical reason to go beyond the perimeter. On his first day, Yu Jeong-ham had also explained that the Deputy Director and directors possessed independent hiring authority, with neither side permitted to interfere in the other’s appointments.

“Still, this is the very first time the deputy director has directly appointed a special hire since forming the team, so the team might be a bit… curious,” Yu Jeong-ham whispered. “Aside from Noh Pil-gyu’s faction, everyone is quite gentle. And even Noh’s people won’t dare say much to your face. The deputy director has already broken their spirits thoroughly…”

Perhaps it was just Seoul’s imagination, but Yu Jeong-ham had seemed slightly sheepish while describing the deputy director’s workplace reputation.

Regardless, just as Yu Jeong-ham had warned, Geum Seoul was none other than a parachuted hire installed by Gye Do-hyeop himself. For Deputy Director Gye—a man who despised even his existing subordinates—to personally recruit someone was historic. Geum Seoul recalled his first day here.

Carrying a large tray, Yu Jeong-ham had remarked, “Our cafeteria actually serves great meals. The team practically commutes just for the food.”

It had been exactly as described. The metal tray functioned merely as a base for a massive silver bowl containing an entire whole chicken in piping hot samgyetang. The side dishes were piled high, so Geum Seoul had diligently worked his fork for forty-five full minutes to ensure he didn’t give himself indigestion.

During that meal, he had quickly realized what a spectacle he had become. From the moment he entered the cafeteria, every operative present had sneaked glances, which only intensified once he sat down to eat.

For most of that meal, Geum Seoul had felt like both the main course and the side dish. People glanced over again and again, some openly staring while they chewed, and he had forced his own jaw to keep moving so his embarrassment would not become obvious. More than once he considered escaping before finishing, but this was a hurdle he would have to face sooner or later. Better, he decided, to let everyone exhaust their curiosity in one sitting. He finished the meal with both ears burning scarlet. The digestive medicine Yu Jeong-ham quietly pressed into his hands afterward had been a lifesaver.

He couldn’t blame them. Geum Seoul fully understood that his sudden appearance was bound to attract scrutiny. Furthermore, to his astonishment, not a single operative in the team emitted any identifiable gender scent.

“The deputy director… absolutely loathes people flaunting whether they’re alphas or omegas…” Yu Jeong-ham had explained.

Given that agents never knew what mission might arise, they routinely received scent-suppressing injections, but those working directly with the deputy director managed their signatures with particular rigor. Geum Seoul had swallowed two pheromone suppressants requested from Yu Jeong-ham on his first day; it was obvious they would recognize him as an omega, and the thought was overwhelmingly embarrassing.

The deputy director’s pheromones dissipated faster than expected. It seemed they had never faded quite so swiftly before; this time, despite having weathered his rut and heat together, the scent had vanished by the second day after the man left the apartment. While somewhat puzzling, it was ultimately a relief that Geum Seoul didn’t have to report for work drenched in the deputy director’s pheromones.

“Would you like some coffee?” Choi Da-ol asked.

At Choi Da-ol’s offer, Geum Seoul shook his head as he settled into his chair.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Seoul replied.

“Oh, come on, I’m the one who should be grateful,” he insisted with an easy laugh.

“Pardon?” Seoul blinked in confusion.

“No, I mean, I heard that the only reason our deputy director took time off for the first time since being posted here was thanks to our Seoul-nim.”

“Ah.” A startled murmur slipped past his lips.

Since everyone already knew he had recently departed due to disciplinary action, he was evidently referring to the leave he had taken beforehand during his rut. Geum Seoul’s ears flushed crimson, yet Choi Da-ol merely sipped his coffee and chattered on.

“Well, it was officially sick leave, but the deputy director is hardly the type to get injured in the field. You looked after him, didn’t you, Seoul-ssi?”

“Ah, looked after…” Seoul trailed off, clutching his cuffs.

Only then did Seoul breathe out in relief. Apparently, the Deputy Director’s absence had been explained as ordinary sick leave rather than a rut. Even so, Do-hyeop was a dominant alpha. Seoul blinked in mild puzzlement, wondering why no one seemed to suspect something along those lines. Choi Da-ol lingered beside him as though ready to drag over a chair and settle in permanently, finally retreating to his desk only after Yu Jeong-ham gave him an earful.

Finally left alone, Geum Seoul looked down at the dossier in his hands. This was an assignment he had to complete—and an order handed down by Gye Do-hyeop himself.

‘Don’t push yourself too hard on this; just read through it.’

In the folder Yu Jeong-ham had handed him two days ago, endless rows of codenames and operational explanations were laid out across the pages. Just a short while back, he had memorized a sheet packed with numbers at the deputy director’s residence, but this material was entirely different.

“Code Odyssey… track and neutralize target…”

Geum Seoul muttered under his breath. If the earlier number-filled slip had been an emergency transmission protocol to signal team members when captured or rendered unable to speak, these were tactical operational orders deployed directly in the field.

Because their frequency of use in real operations was much higher, they carried far greater weight, and the volume of information was so vast that Seoul had spent several days glued to the pages. Frankly, he had harbored some hope that shutting his eyes tight might trigger recall just as it had during his abduction, but no matter how many times he tested it, nothing came to mind.

If he truly possessed this gift because he was special, as the deputy director had claimed, shouldn’t he be able to tap into it whenever he wished? Did having the talent mean the timing and subject of recall were entirely random? Perhaps it only manifested in mortal peril. There was simply no way to know for sure.

Seoul gazed quietly down at the rectangular watch strapped to his wrist.

‘The deputy director preferred that your biometric data not be registered separately in the security network. For now, you can just tap this to gain entry.’

While others pressed their palms against biometric scanners when reporting to work, passing through doorways, or even riding the elevators, Seoul merely had to hold out his wrist.

The watch’s tiny display remained a novelty. He knew that everyone, including Gye Do-hyeop and Yu Jeong-ham, conducted calls and handled tasks through these wearable devices, but he had never owned one himself.

‘Yours was custom-made by the deputy director himself, so he’ll explain the details once he returns. Briefly speaking, your Crebit account is linked to it as well. Welfare credits are loaded into it too, so feel free to pay with this if you visit the shops around the headquarters or living quarters.’

He had mentioned that too. Geum Seoul had not even realized he owned a Crebit account. Technically every citizen possessed one, but Seoul had lived his entire life on physical cash earned through errands and spent just as quickly. He had never once checked the account because there could not possibly be anything inside it. After staring at his wrist for a long time, he raised his head again. A faint, nervous determination had begun to gather in his eyes.