Episode 21 – Files & Firelight
Morning sun barely warmed the glass walls of the CHIPER HQ. Inside, the atmosphere felt colder than ever.
On the screen, Alex had frozen a grainy CCTV frame: Ha-nee, the missing whistleblower, slipping a small black USB into a hidden compartment of her makeup case.
Kevin's gaze sharpened. "She knew someone was after her. That's her insurance."
Dohee tapped the desk thoughtfully. "If we find it, we might learn who forced her to vanish."
Minjae lounged in his chair, spinning a pen idly. "Or get ourselves killed," he drawled, but his eyes flicked to Miran — pale, silent at the far end of the table.
Guen noticed the tremor in Miran's hand as she scribbled notes. "Miran, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Miran lied, voice barely above a whisper.
But inside, her pulse raced. She couldn't forget Minjae's cold words from that night: "If you speak… I'll make you pay."
---
Later that day, everyone splintered back into real life.
Kevin donned his tailored suit, stepping into his family's gleaming corporate tower, a CEO mask firmly in place. Meetings, handshakes, contracts — but beneath it all, his mind kept drifting back to Guen's quick breath beside him on the yacht, the moment they'd almost been caught.
She's dangerous, he told himself. Too close.
---
Guen returned to the National Forensic Lab.
In the white, cold autopsy room, she slid on latex gloves, breathing deeply to focus.
Two new bodies on her table. Victims of a hit-and-run, the police said. But as she examined the fractures and bruises, something felt off.
Her assistant watched as she murmured, "Not an accident. Someone wanted them silenced."
Another piece of the puzzle, perhaps. She'd log the details, bring it back to CHIPER later. Her real job and her secret one now blurred together, bound by blood.
---
Dohee walked through the courthouse halls, files clutched to her chest.
She argued fiercely in court that day — a witness tampering case. After the verdict, she slipped outside, shoulders sagging.
Waiting under the steps, Alex leaned against his bike, helmet dangling from one hand. "Want a ride back?"
Dohee's lips twitched. "Don't you have code to write?"
"Code can wait," he replied, a rare smile breaking his usual reserve.
She climbed on, her hand lightly resting on his waist.
The bike roared to life, and for a moment, the courthouse and its weight disappeared.
---
Minjae had his own mask.
He spent the afternoon at the boxing club, fists pounding leather bags until sweat dripped from his brow.
Between rounds, a woman wrapped her arms around him, whispering promises. Later, they disappeared together behind a locked door.
For Minjae, it was routine: sweat, violence, sex, repeat.
But Miran's pale, frightened face haunted him between the girl's kisses.
He shoved the thought away, letting darkness cover the guilt.
---
Miran, meanwhile, had nowhere to hide.
Back at HQ, Kevin had asked her to examine old lab samples related to Ha-nee's case. But those files were locked in Minjae's office.
She hesitated outside his door, breath catching.
"Come in," Minjae's voice called lazily from inside.
She pushed the door open. He lounged behind his desk, shirt sleeves rolled up, a faint smirk curling his lips.
"You're shaking," he observed.
"I need the lab files," she whispered.
He slid open a drawer, eyes never leaving hers, and tossed her a folder. "Take it. But remember, doc — speak out of line, and—"
"I know," she choked out.
Minjae's gaze darkened. "Good. Now work. And don't test my patience."
Her hands trembled as she sat at his spare desk, eyes lowered to the papers.
Minutes stretched painfully.
Minjae stood, moving to the window, phone in hand, making quiet calls. But every so often, she felt his gaze pierce through her — a predator making sure the rabbit stayed in line.
---
After hours of tension, Miran finally finished sorting the chemical logs.
She rose to leave, but Minjae blocked her path.
"You remember our deal?" he murmured, voice dangerously soft.
She nodded, fear tightening her chest. "I won't say anything."
His hand brushed her chin, tipping her face up. "Good. Keep it that way."
Her heart pounded so violently she thought it might stop. Then he stepped aside, letting her flee.
---
That evening, back at HQ, the team gathered again.
Alex slid the decrypted files onto the main screen. Ha-nee's insurance: lists of bribes, blackmail videos, and a single name repeatedly marked in red.
Guen's voice was cold, steady: "The buyer. This is who made her disappear."
Kevin's gaze sharpened. "We need proof. And then, we take him down."
Dohee crossed her arms, frowning. "We can't rush. He's too well connected."
Minjae's smirk returned. "And we won't. But if he thinks we're weak, he'll crush us first."
Miran swallowed, forcing her voice to work. "Then… what's our next move?"
Kevin glanced around the room, meeting each gaze — including hers. "We draw him out. Force his hand."
---
Late that night, Guen returned to her tiny apartment, exhaustion sinking into her bones.
She slipped off her shoes and leaned against the door, mind spinning: Kevin's hand at her waist, his breath at her ear, and how close they'd come to dying together.
Don't fall, she warned herself. Don't be foolish.
But the memory clung to her skin like perfume.
---
In another part of the city, Miran lay awake in bed, staring at the dark ceiling.
Minjae's voice haunted her thoughts: "If you speak… I'll drag you into my bed."
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
She hated him. She feared him.
And yet, her mind kept replaying the moment his hand had brushed her chin, the cold heat of his gaze.
What's wrong with me? she thought, pressing a pillow over her face.
Outside, the city's lights blinked on, unaware of the darkness blooming in her heart.
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