As soon as the train pulled into Busan Station and came to a halt, Eun-jae grabbed his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder with a grunt. The crowd of passengers bustled past him, each person eager to head home or meet loved ones. Eun-jae, however, wasn't in a hurry to see anyone. He just wanted to disappear into the solitude of his apartment, drown himself in greasy food, and pass out without thinking about missions, agencies, or annoying colleagues.
Stepping onto the platform, the crisp evening air hit him, carrying the salty tang of the nearby ocean. Eun-jae sighed, pulling the collar of his jacket tighter around his neck. He had barely taken three steps when a familiar voice called out over the noise of the station.
"Sunbae! Sunbae, over here!"
Eun-jae grimaced, instantly recognizing the overly enthusiastic tone. He turned his head just in time to see In-su barreling toward him, waving both arms like an overexcited puppy. The younger agent was practically bouncing on his feet as he closed the distance, his wide grin making Eun-jae's already sour mood plummet further.
"In-su," Eun-jae said flatly as the younger man skidded to a stop in front of him, nearly tripping over his own feet.
"Sunbae!" In-su beamed, completely ignoring the unwelcoming tone in Eun-jae's voice. He reached for Eun-jae's duffel bag, practically yanking it out of his hand. "I've got this! The car's just outside, waiting for us. Shall we—"
Before In-su could even finish his sentence, Eun-jae had already started walking, his long strides carrying him toward the station's exit without so much as a glance back.
"Uh, okay! Guess we're going!" In-su muttered, stumbling after him with the heavy duffel bag in tow.
Once they reached the black agency-issued sedan parked near the curb, Eun-jae climbed into the backseat without waiting for In-su to catch up. He let out another sigh as he sank into the leather seat, his head tilting back as if the sheer act of existing was too much effort.
In-su, however, was undeterred. He quickly tossed the duffel bag into the trunk and hopped into the driver's seat, starting the car with a cheerful hum.
The engine purred to life, and as the car pulled away from the station, In-su immediately started chatting, his voice filling the otherwise silent cabin.
"So, sunbae, it's been a while, huh? You've been busy with the mission and all. I heard it was a tough one! But, of course, nothing's too tough for you, right? Agent Helix, the agency's finest!"
Eun-jae closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to stay calm. He's like a goddamn mosquito, buzzing around with no off switch.
In-su glanced at him through the rearview mirror, his grin faltering slightly. "Uh… Anyway, happy birthday, sunbae!"
Eun-jae opened his eyes just enough to shoot him a deadpan look through the mirror. "Thanks," he muttered, his voice devoid of any enthusiasm.
The younger agent hesitated, clearly trying to gauge Eun-jae's mood. But since subtlety wasn't exactly In-su's strong suit, he decided to keep the conversation going anyway.
"So," In-su began cautiously, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he drove, "how was the mission? I mean, you look like you've been through hell, but knowing you, I'm sure you handled it like a pro!"
Eun-jae turned his head to stare out the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of neon as the car sped through the streets. His jaw tightened, and he bit back the sarcastic response sitting on the tip of his tongue. How was the mission? Let's see—death-defying stunts, near-death experiences, and a bunch of ungrateful idiots who couldn't tell the difference between a hero and a scapegoat. Yeah, it was great.
Finally, Eun-jae spoke, his voice low and sharp. "Shut up and drive, In-su."
The younger agent blinked, momentarily stunned by the bluntness of the statement. "O-okay," he mumbled, sinking slightly into his seat. "Got it."
The car fell into an awkward silence, the only sounds coming from the hum of the engine and the faint buzz of the city outside. In-su fiddled nervously with the radio dial, as if searching for something to fill the void, but one pointed glare from Eun-jae was enough to make him abandon the idea.
He was tired—bone-deep tired. The kind of exhaustion that seeped into your soul and made every breath feel like a chore. All he wanted was to go home, sit at the table with his mom, and share a quiet meal. Nothing fancy, nothing extravagant—just the two of them, like old times. She'd probably made his favorite dish, japchae, or maybe that spicy pork stir-fry she always insisted he needed to "build strength."
But instead, here he was, stuck in a car with In-su, heading straight back to the agency like some overworked dog being called to heel. His fists clenched in his lap, the veins on the back of his hands standing out as his frustration grew.
They couldn't even give me one damn day, could they? he thought bitterly. Just one day to be normal. To be human. To see my mom. Is that too much to ask?
He pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, letting out a slow, steady breath. His mom's face flashed in his mind—her warm smile, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed. She'd been so excited when he told her he'd be coming home for his birthday. "I'll make all your favorites," she'd said over the phone, her voice brimming with affection. He could practically hear the faint sound of chopping vegetables in the background as she prepared for his arrival.
Now, he wasn't even sure if he'd make it home before midnight. The thought made his chest ache, a dull, hollow pain that settled somewhere between his heart and his stomach.
Eun-jae closed his eyes, trying to block out the gnawing disappointment. He didn't have time for emotions—not in this line of work. But damn it, today was supposed to be different.
In-su glanced at him nervously, his hands fidgeting on the steering wheel. "Sunbae, uh…do you think—"
"Don't," Eun-jae interrupted, his voice low and warning. "Just drive."
The younger agent nodded quickly, wisely choosing to stay silent for the rest of the ride.
As the car sped through the city streets, Eun-jae couldn't help but wonder how he'd ended up here—always on the move, always answering someone else's call, always putting duty above himself. The life of a spy wasn't glamorous, despite what the movies made it seem. It was lonely, exhausting, and, on days like this, deeply unsatisfying.
One day, he thought to himself. Just one day where I can be something other than Agent Helix.
But deep down, Eun-jae knew better. There was no such thing as "one day" in his world.
Eun-jae finally arrived at the agency, his boots clicking against the polished floors as he was led through a maze of hallways by a junior staff member. His hair was slightly tousled from the ride, and his leather jacket gave him the aura of someone who didn't belong in a place so sterile and professional. The junior agent stopped at a large door, bowing slightly before pushing it open for him.
Eun-jae gave a small, curt nod and stepped inside.
As he entered, his sharp eyes quickly scanned the room. A long, polished conference table dominated the space, flanked by members of the board of directors. Their suits were impeccable, their gazes sharp and assessing. The room reeked of authority and power, and Eun-jae felt a prickle of irritation creep up his spine.
"The board of directors," he thought with an internal groan. "Of course, it's not enough to be dragged back from my day off—they had to make it a whole performance."
"Good morning, Agent Helix," one of the directors greeted, a woman in her late forties with an unnervingly calm demeanor. Eun-jae bowed politely in return, masking his frustration with a well-practiced neutral expression.
"How was the mission in Seoul?" Director Jin asked, his lips curling into a smirk that set Eun-jae's nerves on edge.
"It was fine," Eun-jae replied with a slight shrug, his tone clipped. "No thanks to the lack of intel you all gave me," he added internally but wisely kept that part to himself.
"Any casualties?" another director asked.
"No, sir," Eun-jae replied, forcing himself to remain calm despite their probing stares.
"Good, good," Director Jin said, leaning back in his chair. "You're efficient as always."
"Anyways…" Eun-jae began, plastering on a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What do I owe the pleasure of being called here so early?"
Inside, he was anything but composed. His thoughts raced with annoyance. "I swear, if this is another drawn-out debrief for something they already know, I'll scream. No, I'll actually scream and maybe quit."
Director Jin's smirk widened, and that was enough to set off alarm bells in Eun-jae's mind.
"We have a new assignment for you," Jin said smoothly.
Eun-jae stiffened, his smile faltering. "Of course you do," he thought bitterly. "Why let me have a single day of peace when you can throw another disaster my way?"
"It's a high-priority mission," another director added. "We're sending you to Russia."
The words hung in the air like a loaded gun. Eun-jae blinked once, twice, as he processed what they'd just said.
"Russia? Are they serious? I just got back from Seoul. Do these people think I'm some kind of machine? Or maybe they just enjoy watching me suffer," he thought, his jaw clenching.
"Russia," Eun-jae repeated flatly, his voice dripping with skepticism. "As in, the largest country in the world? The one currently in the middle of, let's see... political unrest, freezing temperatures, and vodka shortages? That Russia?"
A few of the directors exchanged uneasy glances, but Director Jin simply chuckled. "Yes, that Russia. Don't worry, Agent Helix. We've already made the arrangements."
"Oh, well, that's a relief," Eun-jae said sarcastically, crossing his arms. "What would I do without your perfect planning?"
"Agent Helix," Jin said, his tone hardening slightly, "you will be briefed on the specifics shortly. But the gist is this: there's a prototype weapon known as Projekt Nyx. It's capable of devastating destruction if it falls into the wrong hands. And right now, it's in the wrong hands."
Eun-jae's brow furrowed. "Let me guess—Bes Ilay."
The room fell silent, confirming his suspicion. Bes Ilay was a name whispered in fear even among the most hardened agents. A ruthless, unpredictable operative who had climbed his way to infamy in the Russian underworld. If Bes Ilay was involved, this mission wasn't just dangerous—it was a death sentence.
"Great," Eun-jae muttered under his breath. "This just keeps getting better."