In a place where life had completely disappeared, the pure white walls made even breathing feel impossible.
Outside, rain poured heavily. Cold drops struck slowly… one after another… against the glass ceiling of a lifeless, frozen room. Long strip lights around the ceiling flickered intermittently, as if exhaling their last breaths. The smell of chemicals suffocated the air in a way that was impossible to describe.
On a fixed iron chair bolted to the ground…
A woman in her early twenties sat restrained by a long iron chain attached to the adjacent wall.
She was extremely thin, tall, and had beautiful features… but now they looked distorted by pain. Dark red stains covered her clothes, and marks of torture were scattered violently across her body.
As for her gaze…
It was empty.
Cold.
As if she was silently saying goodbye to life.
She stared at the ceiling without blinking, begging for a salvation she no longer believed existed.
Then…
Footsteps.
Heavy steps approached through the long corridor.
Her eyes widened suddenly, and her heartbeat spiked violently.
She whispered in a trembling voice:
"He… he's back…"
Her gaze locked onto the sealed iron door. The sound of keys echoed, then locks began opening one by one.
He entered.
A man with jet-black hair, wearing a mask shaped like a terrifying blue jay bird that completely hid his face. He stood firmly, his body slightly tilted toward her.
His voice was calm…
Terrifyingly calm.
"Woo Jin… worshipped weight."
She froze in place.
He continued in a deadly whisper:
"Remind me… what was his favorite line?"
Tears streamed down the girl's face, and her lips trembled.
"He… used to say…"
He leaned closer, tilting his head toward her lips, listening to her broken breathing.
Behind the mask, a distorted smile formed.
"I'm listening… continue, girl."
Her voice came out hoarse, barely audible:
"Anyone… who is overweight… is not considered a woman."
A short laugh escaped him, filled with arrogance and pleasure. He pressed his forehead against hers, enjoying the terror in her eyes.
Then he whispered while holding her face:
"Justice… is all I want."
He paused for a second.
"That's why… I gave him a perfect ending."
He stepped back slightly, as if admiring a masterpiece he had created.
"I cut his body into pieces… and arranged them very carefully. Every piece weighed exactly one kilogram."
He tilted his head slightly.
"No mistakes… not even a single gram."
He reached out and gently touched her hair, sending chills through her body.
"Do you know how lucky you are?"
She trembled violently.
He grabbed her right hand slowly, pressing his fingers on her pinky.
"You are extremely lucky."
His voice dropped lower:
"They have one week. If they realize that this fingernail belongs to you… I will gladly release you."
Her voice broke into tears:
"Please… let me go… I didn't do anything…"
She stammered while gasping:
"I didn't even see your face… just let me go… why me?"
Silence fell.
Then…
A laugh.
Cold, hysterical laughter that froze her blood.
"You foolish girl…"
He leaned closer until his voice was right beside her ear.
"Don't you know your mistake?"
He whispered:
"Haven't you realized yet… what your crime is?"
Her pupils trembled violently…
As if a distant memory was forcibly tearing its way into her mind.
And in the next moment, her expression completely changed.
Her eyes widened… but not because of tears this time.
Because of pure, undiluted terror.
Her body froze, as if her soul had been ripped away.
As if the angel of death…
Was closer than she had ever imagined.
At the same moment, Hemi stepped into a modest roadside restaurant in the suburbs.
The place was full of life; the sound of utensils mixed with customers' laughter, and strong food aromas filled the crowded air.
"Hey! Where's my order?" shouted a man from a corner.
Another added impatiently:
"Hurry up! I'm starving!"
Amid the chaos, the restaurant owner moved with the ease of someone used to storms. No stress showed on her face; she kept smiling warmly while serving dishes.
"I'm coming! A little patience won't kill anyone!" she called cheerfully.
She placed a plate of cold noodles in front of a regular customer and winked jokingly:
"You come here almost every day just for noodles… haven't you gotten tired of my cooking yet?"
The man laughed while eating eagerly:
"What can I do? My wife is kind, but her cooking… let's just say it's a deadly weapon!"
Amid the noise, Hemi sat in a dark corner, silently observing everything.
Her eyes followed the woman's every movement with heavy focus.
The restaurant owner approached her, wiping her hands on her apron:
"Miss, what would you like to eat?"
Hemi slowly raised her gaze and looked deeply into the woman's eyes.
"Anything you recommend, ma'am… it's my first time here."
Hemi wasn't there to eat…
She was there to wait.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the woman, watching her laughter and facial expressions, until customers gradually left one by one, and silence settled in the restaurant, leaving only the sound of rain outside.
The owner pulled a chair and sat beside her. Her professional smile faded, replaced by curiosity.
"What's wrong, young lady? Since you came in, you've been looking at me like you've lost something."
She leaned slightly forward.
"Tell me… what's the problem?"
Hemi replied steadily:
"You are Mrs. Young Ja."
The woman waved her hand dismissively and stood up.
"Yes, but it's late and I want to go home. Say what you want quickly."
Hemi lowered her voice, filled with something like breaking hope:
"I don't know… how to start."
She looked up at her pleadingly.
"All I want from you now… is hope."
Tension appeared on Young Ja's face.
"Young lady… what do you mean? I don't understand riddles."
Hemi sighed deeply, then grabbed her hand.
Young Ja's eyes moved across her face, searching for meaning.
"Speak. I need to close the shop."
Hemi's voice broke:
"Ma'am… please…"
She paused, then whispered:
"Do you remember the winter of 2005?"
The woman froze.
Hemi continued with difficulty:
"You handed a ten-year-old child… to the national orphanage."
Suddenly, Young Ja's face turned pale.
She stood up in panic and interrupted:
"Enough! Get out of here… I don't remember anything! I don't know what you're talking about!"
Hemi tried to hold on to her last chance.
"Please, Mrs. Young Ja, just remember—"
But the woman pushed her violently toward the door, then slammed it shut and locked it while breathing heavily.
"Leave this place… and never come back!"
Young Ja leaned against the wooden door and closed her eyes.
Her breath trembled.
Then she whispered to herself:
"I buried that years ago…"
She placed her hand over her shaking chest.
"I don't want to reopen that wound…"