The Algorithm Of Deceit

Chapter Seven

Ji-hyun had barely taken a step toward the exit when Instructor Joon’s voice called out behind her.

“This was just to make sure you wanted to do this.” She turned, seeing him standing with arms crossed, his gaze unreadable. “Tomorrow at 6 PM, we’ll start with the basic theory. Show up on time.”

She gave him a small nod and a light bow before stepping out. The crisp night air wrapped around her as she hailed a cab. She wasn’t sure what was more exhausting—the hours she had spent at the gun range or the storm brewing inside her.

By the time she reached her apartment, she felt like she was moving on autopilot. She shrugged off her jacket, stepping into the kitchen. Pulling out a juice jar from the fridge, she poured herself a glass, but as she raised it to her lips, she noticed something.

Her hands were sore.

The dull ache pulsed from her fingers up to her arms, a sharp reminder of the gun training. Ji-hyun turned her hand over, staring at the faint redness on her skin.

This is what Soo-ah felt every time she pulled the trigger. She imagined it—Soo-ah in her military uniform, standing in the middle of a warzone, gripping her rifle with steady hands.

The deafening sound of gunfire all around her. The smell of gunpowder, dirt, and sweat clinging to her skin.

Did she ever hesitate before pulling the trigger?

Ji-hyun clenched her fist.

Her sister had been a soldier. A warrior.

And Ji-hyun had spent the last three years hating her for it. Her throat tightened as guilt settled like a stone in her chest. She had been angry—angry that Soo-ah had chosen the military over her.

Angry that she had left her behind.

But now?

Now, all she wanted was to know the truth. And the person who had called her—**the one who had sent that cryptic message—**had been silent.

No more texts. No more blocked calls.

Had they given up?

Or were they just waiting?

Either way, Ji-hyun had made her decision.

A week had passed since she started training. She had gone back and forth from the shooting range, pushing herself harder each day.

It wasn’t just about learning how to use a gun anymore.

She had started building muscle, running at dawn, pushing herself through exercises that left her body aching.

She wanted to feel the same pain Soo-ah had endured.

She needed to.

But she still had one loose end to tie up.

Her job.

Sitting at her desk, Ji-hyun opened her laptop.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a brief moment before she started typing. A short, formal resignation letter.

She wasn’t going back.

Not when she had something else to focus on. She took a deep breath as she hit send, watching the email disappear from her screen.

Then, slowly, she shut her laptop.

The weight of her decision settled over her. She was walking away from the life she had built—the safe, predictable life.

And stepping into something far more dangerous.

But she didn’t care.

Soo-ah deserved justice.

And Ji-hyun was going to make sure she got it. She had barely shut her laptop when her phone rang.

Her heart leapt in her chest.

Could it be—?

She scrambled toward the counter where she had left it, her fingers snatching up the device.

Without even glancing at the caller ID, she pressed it against her ear.

“Hello?”

A pause.

Then, finally, a voice spoke.

"Ji-hyun-ah, I just saw through the company’s community mail that you quit your job. Tell me this isn't true!"

Ji-hyun’s heart sank.

It wasn’t them.

It wasn’t the anonymous caller.

Just her coworker—Eun-ha.

The disappointment was sharp, but she masked it quickly. Meanwhile, Eun-ha was still talking, her voice laced with frustration.

“Seriously, Ji-hyun, why? You didn’t even tell me! Do you know how lonely I’ll be without you? Who am I supposed to eat lunch with now? That weird intern who eats boiled eggs with ketchup?”

Ji-hyun sighed inaudibly.

She had expected this. Eun-ha had been her closest friend at work—if she could even call anyone a friend.

“I just need some time for a vacation, you know,” Ji-hyun finally said, forcing her voice into something lighthearted.

“A vacation?” Eun-ha repeated, clearly not convinced.

“Yes.” Ji-hyun tapped her fingers against the counter. “But once I’m done, I’ll ask for my job again. The boss is pretty understanding.”

Silence.

Then a dramatic sigh.

“Well, I guess that’s true. He does have a soft spot for you, though I never understood why. You’re like a little ghost in the office.”

Ji-hyun let out a small chuckle.

Eun-ha groaned. “Ugh. Fine. But promise me we’ll meet up for drinks soon?”

Ji-hyun hesitated.

Would she even have the time for things like that anymore?

Would she even be the same person once this was over?

“…Yeah,” she murmured. “I promise."
As the line went silent, Ji-hyun lowered her phone and stared at the screen.

Who was she kidding?

The anonymous caller—were they waiting to see what she would do next?

Were they testing her, examining her capabilities to see if she could uncover the truth?

She had spent days trying to hack into the unknown number, but whoever was behind it had covered their tracks well.

Too well.

Someone in the military.

That much she knew.

But were they a friend? A foe?

Or someone merely watching from the shadows, waiting for her to connect the dots?

The thought made her stomach churn.

The sudden buzz of her alarm jolted her back to reality.

Ji-hyun exhaled slowly.

It was time for gun training.

Zipping up her sweater, she shoved her feet into her sneakers and grabbed her bag before stepping out.

The cool evening air nipped at her skin as she hailed a cab to the training center.

Her mind, however, was miles away.

Somewhere deep in the past, tangled in the pieces of a puzzle she had only begun to put together.