Y/N is an agent under a Top Secret Agent Company. Keeping the world safe and fighting the most wanted criminals? That's her mission.
One day, her brother didn't return home after the day he should completed his mission. The management team found the...
He had sat in square rooms before, and this one was no different. Nothing he wasn't already familiar with. They were all in the same teeny, cramped area with a big, wide table and three chairs. The identical room interior with a single entrance/exit door and a spotless rectangular reflecting mirror-the same mirror that can be seen through in most crime-action films. Not to mention the chilly air conditioning, which had the opposite effect of helping and only served to freeze the wrists and fingers that were locked to the cuffs. And it wasn't any different from his other encounters. Just that on sometimes, both of his wrists were tied to the table. Once he had only one of his wrist attached to the handcuffs and some other times he had none. And this time it was the first one.
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The noise of the air conditioner banging against the ceiling was the only thing that disturbed the calmness of the space. The same idiotic, chilly air conditioning. He questioned the identity of the creative mind behind fitting the air conditioning in such a confined area of the room. It was the same as having frozen pork in the refrigerator.
His eyes roamed around the room before stopping on the mirror as he sat with his elbows resting on the table and his expression blank as usual. Realizing that he is being watched and observed by individuals on the other side. He grinned to whoever was in the other room, lifting the side of his mouth. A short while later, an alarm signalled that the door had been unlocked from the other side, and a man and a woman could then be seen entering the already stuffed space.
"Please convey my deepest apology and condolences to your colleague. Perhaps you know her. She goes with Miss Tuan?" He initiated the talk as he bowed his head down as a gesture of respect and regret.
"We'll try. But I bet she wouldn't be thankful for your kind words..." The woman replied as she took a seat opposite to him before she was cut off by her partner.
"...because she had nothing and no one to grieve for."
Which of course another psychotic trick he pulled to conjure some answers from the pair.
An invisible smirk flashed on his face as he stared back and forth between them before he decided that he couldn't hide his amusement anymore. "So it's true then. That he was still alive? That bastard wasn't dead?" He chuckled while waiting for his answer.
"Yes. He is." Both interrogators nodded.
"Well, what a lucky bastard he is then." He muttered before his laughs filled up the room. Amused with the thought of the spoken man's impressive amount of luck. As lucky as the protagonist in the thriller story that the writer wrote in their novels.
"Lee Jongsuk-nim?" He had been tilting his head down at his injured thigh when the female interrogator called. Given that it was already late at night, if they didn't know any better, they might have assumed that he had already fallen asleep.
"Lee Jongsuk-nim?" Once more, she called him. "That's your name, right?"
"The one and only." He raised his head before returning his attention to her in full. He attempted to smile warmly, but the woman obviously didn't reciprocate his clear and simple action. Professionalism, as they say.
