The silence that followed their departure was heavy, lingering for several minutes before the tension finally began to dissipate.
"I'm not sure which is funnier," Chaeryoung's silvery voice finally broke the quiet, cutting through the stagnant air. "The fact that I actually let a confidential conversation unfold right in front of me without intervening, which isn't like me at all. or the fact that you and that Jinhee girl look so much alike. Despite the massive gap in your personalities, your facial features are strikingly similar. It's... unexpectedly unpredictable."
I blinked, the thought catching me completely off guard. "I... I never noticed. The resemblance, I mean."
Chaeryoung chuckled, a warm sound that eased the remaining stiffness in my shoulders. "Don't overthink it. It's just another one of my random observations. Besides, there's no way the two of you are actually related, honestly, the thought is a bit of a stretch."
We shared a light laugh, the absurdity of the idea helping us move forward. We continued walking, finally letting the morning's drama fade into the background as we retreated into the comfort of our own little world.
But our peace was short-lived. A man in a sharp charcoal suit emerged from the shade of a nearby building, his presence formal and imposing.
"Young Mistress Song."
Chaeryoung paused, her expression remaining pleasant as the man leaned down. He whispered something into her ear—a short, jagged sentence that would have made anyone else flinch. To me, it just looked like a private family matter being relayed.
Chaeryoung didn't miss a beat. She turned back to me with a look of pure, apologetic sweetness, her eyes wide and shimmering with feigned disappointment. "Oh, Epione! I'm so sorry, that's my mother's assistant. She just arrived in the city unexpectedly and she's insisting I show her around the campus area. I'm going to have to run."
She reached out, squeezing my hand warmly. "I feel terrible leaving you like this. Look, there's a taxi right there. Let me get it for you."
She waved the cab down with practiced grace and tucked me into the backseat. "Text me when you're home, okay? I'll call you later!" She stood on the curb, waving cheerfully until the taxi turned the corner.
The moment Epione was out of sight, her arm dropped. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by a gaze as cold as black glass. She turned to the man, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous tone. "You said they're at the base?"
"Yes, Mistress. Both of them."
"Good. Let's go see if I can't improve their manners."
The Song Base
The "Song Base" was a sterile, soundproofed warehouse tucked away in the industrial district. When Chaeryoung stepped inside, she was greeted by the sight of two young men, the same ones who had spent months bullying Epione, strapped to heavy steel chairs. They were already pretty beaten up, their designer clothes torn and faces swollen.
Chaeryoung walked toward them, pulling on a pair of pristine white gloves.
"Sorry," she said, her voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. "I told my men to be gentle with you... unless you tried to fight back. It seems you did, so they had to remove their gentle parenting facade."
"You piece of shit!" one of them hissed, spitting blood onto the concrete floor.
"Ooh, speaking of parents," Chaeryoung leaned in, her shadow looming over him. "Let's talk about yours, shall we? Apparently, this should be a family matter of yours, but unluckily for you, I love joining family affairs. So... about that case two weeks ago. Human trafficking. Where did the eight students go?"
"Why are you asking us?" the second boy whimpered. "We know nothing!"
"Playing hard to get, huh?" She reached into a small leather kit and pulled out a specialized nipper cutter. The image of the "perfect student" Epione held in her mind was officially dead.
"Useless things need to be discarded," Chaeryoung mused, testing the tension of the tool. "And if your tongues are useless because they won't speak the answers I want..."
She moved with a predator's speed, her gloved hand clamping onto the first boy's tongue, pulling it forward as he gagged in terror.
"Might as well cut—"
"N-noo! We'll speak! Please!" the boy screamed through his tears, his body shaking violently.
"Fine." Chaeryoung let go and stepped back, a bright, beautiful, and utterly soul-chilling smile crossing her face.
"Info. Now."
The boys scrambled to talk, their voices overlapping in a desperate bid for mercy. "The shipping docks! Terminal 4! They're being moved to a freighter called The Blue Marlin at midnight. Our parents... they're just the middlemen! They were paid to provide the 'local stock'!"
Chaeryoung's smile didn't fade, but her eyes grew sharper. "And the buyer? Who is receiving the 'stock' at the final destination?"
silence that followed their departure was heavy, lingering for several minutes before the tension finally began to dissipate.
"I'm not sure which is funnier," Chaeryoung's silvery voice finally broke the quiet, cutting through the stagnant air. "The fact that I actually let a confidential conversation unfold right in front of me without intervening—which isn't like me at all—or the fact that you and that Jinhee girl look so much alike. Despite the massive gap in your personalities, your facial features are strikingly similar. It's... unexpectedly unpredictable."
I blinked, the thought catching me completely off guard. "I... I never noticed. The resemblance, I mean."
Chaeryoung chuckled, a warm sound that eased the remaining stiffness in my shoulders. "Don't overthink it. It's just another one of my random observations. Besides, there's no way the two of you are actually related—honestly, the thought is a bit of a stretch."
We both shared a light laugh, the absurdity of the idea helping us move forward. We continued walking, finally letting the morning's drama fade into the background as we retreated into the comfort of our own little world.
But our peace was short-lived. A deep, disembodied voice belonging to a man suddenly sliced through the air, snapping our attention toward the shadows.
"Young Mistress Song."