The wound from Jina's Blade Ki was a burning, constant reminder of his near-fatal encounter. Min-jun and Seulgi had escaped to a new hiding place, a narrow, forgotten crawlspace beneath an old, abandoned market stall. The space was dark and filled with the scent of mold, but it was safe. For now. Min-jun lay on a makeshift bed of salvaged cloth, his arm wrapped in a grimy bandage. The cut was not deep, but it was a different kind of injury. The Blade Ki, with its flawless, surgical precision, had not just cut his flesh; it had left a residual, shimmering energy that was actively preventing his body from healing. The Shadow, a power designed to consume, was useless against a wound that was so pure and refined. It was a poison, a slow-acting curse left by a master.
Seulgi, her small face pale with worry, sat beside him, holding his uninjured hand. She didn't cry or complain. Her silence was a heavier burden than her tears. She would bring him small sips of water, her movements quiet and deliberate, her eyes never leaving his face. He saw the terror in her gaze—not of the Hwarang, but of losing him.
"You have to stop, Oppa," she whispered one night, the words barely audible. "We can hide. We can live a different life. Just... please stop fighting them."
Min-jun looked at her, his heart a cold, heavy stone in his chest. How could he? How could he stop when he had seen the desperation in Jae-min's eyes? How could he stop when he had felt the despair of a Mugwi community crushed under the Hwarang's heel? He had become a symbol, a beacon of hope for people who had no hope. To stop now would be to extinguish that light. He was no longer just fighting for her; he was fighting for all of them. He squeezed her hand, a silent promise.
"I can't, Seulgi. I'm sorry," he whispered. "I can't."
A sudden sound from outside shattered the quiet. The scrape of a foot on loose gravel. Min-jun's body went rigid. He felt for the familiar, cold hum of his Shadow power, but the wound on his arm was siphoning his focus, leaving him weak and vulnerable. He held his breath, pulling Seulgi close. The sound of a lock clicking open, a soft, precise sound that spoke of Ki-powered mechanisms, filled the darkness. A crack of light appeared, and a figure stepped inside.
It was Hye-jin. She stood in the doorway, a look of profound relief and concern on her face, her eyes immediately scanning the cramped space. She saw the fear on Seulgi's face, the desperate tension in Min-jun's body, and the dark, bloody bandage on his arm.
"It's okay," she said, her voice soft and reassuring. "I'm not here to hurt you."
Min-jun, however, didn't trust her. His mind, clouded by pain and suspicion, saw a Hwarang, a hunter. "How did you find us?" he growled, his voice a low, painful rasp.
Hye-jin knelt down, her hands held out in a gesture of peace. "Your power... the residual Ki from the fight with Jina. It has a unique resonance. I've been tracking it. I was worried." Her eyes met his, and he saw not the cold, professional detachment of a hunter, but a raw, genuine fear for his safety. "Jina... her Blade Ki is different. It's a precise, focused form of energy. It's not a wound you can just heal from. It's a poison that is slowly killing you."
Min-jun felt a cold spike of dread. He looked at the bandage on his arm, the dark blood seeping through. "You're a Hwarang. You're a hunter. You work for them."
Hye-jin closed her eyes for a moment, a wave of pain washing over her face. She took a deep breath, and when she opened her eyes again, there was a resolute honesty in them. "Yes," she said, her voice a confession. "I was. Grandmaster Jin ordered me to hunt you down, to understand your power. But I couldn't." She looked at him, and her voice broke with the emotion of a deeply held secret finally being revealed. "I couldn't betray you. Not after everything you told me. I see you, Min-jun. I don't see a monster. I see a boy trying to protect his sister. I see a Mugwi with a good heart."
Min-jun's mind reeled. Was this another trap? A more elaborate lie? The Hwarang were masters of deceit. But he looked at the genuine concern in her eyes, and a small, desperate part of him wanted to believe her. He felt the pain in his arm, a constant, gnawing fire. He felt his strength fading. He was dying. And she, a Hwarang, was the only one who could save him.
"You said... you can help," he said, the words a desperate plea.
"I can," she replied, a flash of her usual professional resolve returning. "But you have to trust me. My Ki is pure, but it is also healing. I can use it to neutralize the residual energy from Jina's blade. But you have to allow me. You have to lower your guard."
He looked from her face to Seulgi's, who was watching their exchange with wide, fearful eyes. His life was in his hands, but his sister's was in his hands too. He had to make a choice. A choice between a quick death at the hands of a Hwarang or a slow death from a wound he couldn't heal. He was a fugitive, a symbol, a protector, but in this moment, he was just a wounded boy with a desperate need to survive. He took a deep, shaky breath and gave a slow, reluctant nod.
Hye-jin's face softened with relief. She gently took his arm, her touch warm and comforting. She closed her eyes, and a soft, golden Ki, the pure energy of her healing power, flowed from her hands and into his wound. It was a strange, tingling sensation, a contrast to the pain of the Shadow. He could feel her Ki entering his body, neutralizing the residual energy from Jina's attack, and for the first time since the fight, he felt the pain begin to subside. He was no longer just a Mugwi with a forbidden power; he was a traitor to his people, and she was a traitor to hers. Their fates were now intertwined, bound by a shared secret and a desperate, fragile alliance.
Hye-jin stayed for hours, her Ki a constant, gentle flow. When she finally finished, the wound was no longer burning. It was still a cut, but it was healing normally now. She looked at Min-jun, then at Seulgi, her face filled with a tired but resolute peace. She was no longer a spy; she was an accomplice. They were now a team of three, two fugitives and a traitor, united against a world that wanted them all dead. The next time Jina came hunting, she would find not a single Mugwi with a dangerous secret, but a new, powerful alliance that she never saw coming.
Chapter End.