RTN 32

chapter 32

It was true.

There are no rules in war. Winning is all that matters. As long as you emerge as the victor, any method becomes a tactic and any action becomes strategy. Nothing else is important.

So as always, Seol A-yeon had simply done her best. Just like when she saved people from the Gate, just like when she ran toward the child during the test.

The mistake was his. He was the one who pushed her, told her to treat it like real combat even when she said she couldn’t.

But there was one thing bothering him.

Seol A-yeon wasn’t the type to exaggerate pain.

Thinking back, it was strange. Before entering the measurement room, she had no information, so it was understandable that she resisted. But once she went inside, she wasn’t the kind to make excuses.

More importantly, damaging the measurement room because she was physically exhausted would be a disadvantage for her as well. It would take effort to explain and cover up. There must have been another reason.

Kim Do-un quickly scanned her from head to toe. One foot wasn’t resting properly on the floor—it was placed at an odd angle.

“You sprained your ankle?”

Her eyes widened. Without waiting for an answer, he gently grabbed her ankle.

Seol A-yeon didn’t groan or flinch, but her expression hardened. Her jaw clenched, as if she was biting the inside of her lip.

“Does it hurt?”

He let go of her ankle and asked again.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

She looked troubled.

“I really wanted to do well. But I realized I couldn’t, so I was just trying to stop. I wasn’t trying to break it. Really.”

“I believe you. When did you sprain it?”

“A little while ago…”

“When exactly? Before or after you called me through comms?”

“Before.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

Seol A-yeon fell silent.

Kim Do-un regretted not watching her more carefully while he was busy arguing with Jang Seok-ju. He turned his head sharply—some researchers flinched.

“You didn’t notice her sprained ankle?”

A few researchers hesitated. Someone spoke up.

“She fell once, and she looked a little uncomfortable after that…”

She fell? His brows furrowed. The researcher continued in a tiny voice:

“She kept saying she couldn’t do it from the start, so… we thought she might be slacking on purpose…”

“If she looked uncomfortable, you should have reported it.”

“…We’re sorry. It happened so fast…”

Before Kim Do-un could scold them further, Jang Seok-ju shot up from his seat.

With furious shouting—do they have a brain or not, how could they be trusted with anything—he tore into the researchers. While Jang Seok-ju threw a fit, Kim Do-un turned back to Seol A-yeon.

The questions weren’t answered yet. Seol A-yeon used her body well. She wouldn’t fall so easily.

“Why did you fall?”

“I just stepped wrong…”

“You wouldn’t have stepped wrong for no reason. Something happened.”

She pressed her lips together tightly. He repeated patiently:

“Answer. We can review the footage.”

“It won’t show up on the footage.”

Her expression froze right after she said it. She opened her mouth as if to defend herself, but Kim Do-un spoke first.

“If it won’t show up, what? Only you could see it?”

She turned away defensively. He grabbed her shoulder, turning her back toward him. His voice dropped low.

“You saw the status window, didn’t you?”

For a moment, her gaze slipped away—not to him, but to some vague point in the air—before snapping back.

So the status window really did appear.

He was sure of it. And it was probably still floating there.

“What did it say?”

She parted her lips as if to answer, but lowered her gaze. The discomfort was clear.

“It’s nothing.”

“Fix your expression before saying something like that.”

“…It just warned me to be careful.”

Lie. He knew it.

But he didn’t need to press further. His job was only to train her. Everything else was outside his authority. If she was seeing status windows and hiding the content, he could simply report it.

Even so, he couldn’t ignore it—because beneath his hand, her shoulder was trembling faintly. She was in no state to continue training.

He glanced around. Everyone was too busy getting yelled at by Jang Seok-ju, but still, there were eyes sneaking looks their way.

“Want to move somewhere else?”

Color returned to her face. She nodded hard. That alone relieved him a little.

“All right. I’ll carry you. It’s faster than helping you walk.”

She immediately stretched her arms toward him. He bent, slid one arm behind her back and the other under her legs.

Her thin arms wrapped around his neck without hesitation. Even though he was prepared for it, the sudden closeness nearly made him push her away.

He stiffened, then lifted her in one motion. Her body tilted, brushing soft hair against his jaw.

He inhaled without thinking—and a clean summer scent filled his nose. It made him dizzy for a moment.

Goddamn it.

He gritted his teeth. Kim Do-un, are you crazy? Get it together. He cursed himself internally.

It’s just shampoo. The same mass-produced stuff everyone uses. Nothing special. What are you going to do if your sense of smell breaks the moment you like someone’s face?

He forced himself to stay calm as he carried her out of the room.

But leaving the dark room and stepping into the bright corridor made the situation worse—he could see her clearly now.

Unlike her usual calm responses, she looked terrible. Pale face, a faint sheen of sweat, breathing quick and shallow.

And she was so light—like a wounded baby bird. Something twisted in his chest.

He walked quickly to the opposite side of the testing hall and pushed into the changing room with his back. This was the only space without CCTV.

His nerves were frayed. He practically set her down on the table. She let out a cry as her hip hit the surface, but he felt relieved just to have some distance again.

He walked to the water dispenser.

“Want water?”

“Yes…”

She rubbed her hip and answered weakly.

He filled a cup, then pulled a small case from his jacket pocket. He pressed the side and took out a green chip, dropping it into the water cup.

It was originally a stabilizer that had to be injected through a device. But she didn’t have her watch yet, so this was the best he could do.

When the chip dissolved and the water turned pale green, he turned back—then froze.

She was staring at him with clear suspicion.

“What did you put in that?”

He was caught off guard. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but suddenly felt cornered.

“It’s a stabilizer. Your breathing is too fast, so it’ll help.”

After saying it aloud, it sounded unfair. He repeated:

“We use it all the time here.”

“I’m not drinking it.”

“Do what you want.”

He tossed the cup into the trash with the water still in it.

She lowered her head and wiped her forehead and eyes with her sleeve. She looked awful.

In the end, he filled another cup with plain water and placed it in her hand. She drained it in one gulp. Her hand, crumpling the paper cup, trembled faintly.

He leaned in, hands on either side of the table, lowering himself to meet her eye-level.

“We agreed to be on the same team, right?”

She just looked at him. Not a trace of color in her face.

She was sitting on the table, and he was leaning in, so their eyes met at the same height.

“You can’t train like this. It’s bad for both of us. So tell me what happened. I won’t report it. It stays between us. I promise.”

He meant it.

“What did the status window say?”

Silence.

But she didn’t turn away anymore. Her dark eyes stared directly at him, and he stayed quiet, waiting.

Finally, she slowly opened her mouth.

And at that moment, something flickered into his sight.

[Miss me?]

Kim Do-un blinked.

It was a status window. Exactly the same type that had wrapped around Seol A-yeon in the testing room—but this time, it was directed at him.

He stepped back in surprise.

“Wh-What the hell?”

“Huh? You can see it?”

“You did this?”

“No! Of course not!”

She shook her head rapidly. She wasn’t looking at him—she was staring at the same window.

“You can see it too, Lieutenant?”

“You’re not showing it to me?”

“No! How could I do that?”

The text flickered and changed.

[Still the same. No matter how many times it repeats, you’re always the same.]

“…What?”

He stumbled back until his spine hit a cabinet, metal ringing behind him.

“What the hell…”

[If you want to see, then see.]

And suddenly, he understood why she fell.

Not just because a window popped up.

[What are you doing?]
[Why are you wasting time on this?]
[You don’t have time for this.]
[You’re the one who begged for another chance.]
[Disappointing. So disappointing.]
[You’ll lose everything again.]
[If you’re going to be useless, it’s better if you disappear.]

Not one. Dozens.

Status windows packed around her, blocking her entire field of view.

Of course she fell. With that, she couldn’t see a step ahead, let alone run an obstacle course. She was lucky she only punched the panel.

And this time, the tone was nothing like before.

Disappointment. Accusation. Anger.

Looking at Seol A-yeon, terrified behind those floating screens, Kim Do-un whispered blankly:

“…What the f*** is all this?”