The next station platform was almost empty.
Two police officers stood near the edge, the morning wind brushing against their uniforms. Yellow caution tape flapped weakly from the railing, barely held by its clips. The younger officer shifted his grip on his taser, fingers slick with sweat.
"…Sir," he whispered, eyes fixed on the rails, "are we really enough for this? The report said there were multiple offenders, all armed."
The senior officer didn't look at him. He just kept his arms crossed, jaw locked tight, staring down the empty tracks as if he could already see the train arriving.
"All units are already deployed," he said. His tone was controlled, but the voice underneath was exhausted. "We're all that's left on standby."
The younger cop swallowed. His throat felt dry. The station speakers hummed faintly above them. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The senior finally exhaled slowly, heavy. His hand rubbed over his face, fingers dragging down in frustration.
"Damn it… if it wasn't for that fucker Oryong," he muttered, half to himself, "Nearly all of our guys wouldn't be crippled right now."
The young officer's breath stuttered, a faint tremor ran through his wrist.
"…We were lucky Taeyang and his crew stepped in, weren't we?"
The senior's jaw twitched.
"Lucky?"
He let out a short, humorless breath.
"Without them, Oryong would've been ordering the police at every precinct right now."
The younger cop's fingers tightened around his taser.
"And the Chief…?"
"ICU," the senior answered. "Still can't talk, they're operating again tomorrow."
The wind scraped along the platform roof, whining against the metal.
A long quiet settled between them.
The senior's eyes stayed fixed on the rails, bitter, tired, but sharp.
"...It's been barely a week since Taeyang's crew vanished," he said. "And we're already running on scraps again."
The younger cop swallowed.
He looked small against the platform lights, just a kid in a uniform.
…
The tracks began to vibrate.
A distant rumbling crawled through the air, the sound of a train rushing closer.
Both officers straightened instinctively.
The younger cop tightened his grip.
The senior lowered his hand, shoulders tense.
They stood side by side, eyes locked on the incoming blur of steel and wind.
The KTX was arriving.