The next morning came quicker than Jinwoo expected. His body was sore from the relentless training session the day before, but the ache only served as a reminder of the path he had chosen. There was no room for hesitation now.
Mr. Lee greeted him in the training room, his expression as cold and calculated as ever. But this time, he wasn't alone. Standing beside him was a woman Jinwoo had never seen before. She was tall, with sharp features and an air of authority that was impossible to ignore. Her piercing gaze made Jinwoo feel like she could see right through him.
"This is Seo Mira," Mr. Lee said. "She's one of the best operatives in our organization. She'll be handling your psychological and tactical training."
Mira didn't offer a handshake or a warm smile. Instead, she crossed her arms and studied Jinwoo like he was an unpolished gem she'd been tasked with refining.
"You're the one who stumbled upon the book," Mira said bluntly. "You think you're ready for this world?"
Jinwoo met her gaze, trying not to waver. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Mira smirked faintly. "We'll see."
The First Test
Mira wasted no time. She led Jinwoo into a smaller, dimly lit room that resembled an interrogation chamber. A single metal table stood in the center, with a chair on either side. On the table sat a small black box.
"Your first lesson is about control," Mira said. "Control over your emotions, your instincts, and your actions. Open the box."
Jinwoo hesitated, his mind racing with possibilities. He stepped forward, his fingers trembling slightly as he lifted the lid. Inside was a handgun, sleek and polished, along with a single bullet.
"You're going to learn how to handle a weapon," Mira said. "But before you do, I want you to understand what it means to use one."
She placed a photograph on the table. It was an image of a man in his late forties, wearing a suit and a strained expression. "This is Choi Minho," Mira explained. "A corrupt businessman who launders money for crime syndicates. He's your first target."
Jinwoo stared at the photograph, his stomach twisting. "You're asking me to… kill him?"
"No," Mira said firmly. "Not yet. But I want you to imagine it. I want you to think about pulling the trigger, ending his life. What does it feel like?"
The room seemed to grow colder. Jinwoo's mind flashed back to the faces of his bullies, the ones who had tormented him at the orphanage, and the classmates who had mocked him. A quiet, simmering anger began to stir.
"I don't know," Jinwoo admitted, his voice barely audible.
"That's the right answer," Mira said, her tone softening just slightly. "Killing isn't something you should take lightly. It changes you, Jinwoo. But in this world, it's a necessity. You'll learn to make peace with it—or you won't survive."
Training in the Shadows
Over the following weeks, Jinwoo's training intensified. Mira taught him how to handle firearms, knives, and even improvised weapons. She drilled him on surveillance techniques, how to tail a target without being noticed, and how to disappear into a crowd.
But it wasn't just physical training. Mira pushed him mentally, testing his ability to strategize under pressure. She created elaborate scenarios, forcing him to think like a predator. Jinwoo was made to analyze his targets' routines, find their weaknesses, and plan the perfect strike—all without ever making a move.
One evening, as they finished another grueling session, Mira spoke more candidly than usual.
"You're learning fast," she said. "Faster than I expected. But don't let that go to your head. The moment you think you know everything is the moment you fail."
Jinwoo nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "I understand."
Mira studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Why did you stay, Jinwoo? Why not walk away when you had the chance?"
The question caught him off guard. He thought back to the orphanage, to the cold stares of his adoptive parents, to the isolation he had endured for years. "Because I'm tired of being powerless," he said finally. "I want to be strong enough to protect myself. To protect others, if I have to."
Mira's gaze softened, just for a moment. "Good," she said. "Because strength without purpose is just chaos. Remember that."
The Hidden Truth
One night, after everyone else in the mansion had retired, Jinwoo couldn't sleep. He wandered the halls, his mind restless. His feet carried him back to the study where he had first found the book.
The door was locked this time, but Jinwoo had learned a thing or two during his training. Using a paperclip from his pocket, he fiddled with the lock until it clicked open.
Inside, the study was exactly as he remembered. But as he searched the room, his eyes landed on a drawer slightly ajar. He opened it, revealing a stack of old photographs and documents.
One photo caught his attention. It was a picture of Mr. Lee, younger and standing beside another man—a man Jinwoo recognized immediately. It was his biological father.
Jinwoo's breath caught in his throat. What was this? Why would Mr. Lee have a photo of his father?
His hands trembled as he picked up the photograph, questions flooding his mind. Had his adoption been a coincidence? Or had Mr. Lee known his parents all along?
A sense of unease settled over Jinwoo as he realized one thing for certain: the life he had left behind wasn't as far away as he thought.
And the truth about his past was waiting, hidden in the shadows.