The Algorithm Of Deceit

Chapter Nine

What was her sister trying to say before someone silenced her? Anger coiled inside her, tight and suffocating. Ji-hyun sat motionless, staring at the ripped pages of her sister's journal. A heavy silence filled the room, pressing against her chest like an invisible weight. Her breath was slow, controlled—but her mind was raging. The missing pages told her one thing. Someone didn't want her to know the truth. And if there was one thing Ji-hyun hated, it was being kept in the dark. Her fingers curled into fists, the edges of the journal digging into her palms. She had made her decision. She would follow this lead—no matter where it took her. Even if it meant becoming the very thing she swore she'd never be. Even if it meant stepping into Soo-ah's world. She had to be her sister. Not just in thought.

In everything.

She placed the journal carefully on the table, her gaze flickering to the photograph. Soo-ah's smile. The warmth in her eyes. The ease in her posture. Ji-hyun traced the red circle around her sister's face.

That was who she had to become.

Not just a sister seeking revenge.

Not just an outsider searching for the truth.

But Kang Soo-ah.

The Lieutenant. The Soldier. The Ghost.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she opened the journal again, flipping through the pages with new purpose.She wasn't just reading now.She was studying.The way Soo-ah spoke.The way she thought.Her habits.Her fears.Her strengths.

Ji-hyun memorized it all.

Because if she was going to enter the military, she needed to be a perfect copy.A flawless clone. No one could suspect.Not for a second.Because a second was all it took for everything to fall apart.She turned to her laptop, her fingers moving with practiced precision as she opened her hacking software.

She was done waiting.If the anonymous caller wanted to play games, she'd play too.

But on her terms.

She hacked the number again—this time, not just tracking but leaving something behind. A message not a threat.

Something else.

Something they wouldn't ignore. Something that would make them react.

She leaned back, exhaling as she watched the message disappear into the abyss of the unknown. Would they read it? Would they respond?

Or would they ignore her again?

She didn't know. But she had just made her next move. Now, it was their turn.
Ji-hyun sat motionless in her chair, the weight of her decision pressing down on her shoulders like an unseen force. The room was silent except for the faint hum of her laptop, the glow from the screen casting eerie shadows against the walls. Her fingers twitched slightly on the desk, hovering over the closed journal, as she tried to process everything.

She had taken the first step. There was no turning back now.

Her stomach twisted in discomfort, a gnawing emptiness reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day. She wanted to ignore it, to let the hunger sit there as punishment for what she was about to do—for becoming someone else, for stepping into a world that had taken Soo-ah away.

But she couldn’t afford to be weak.

With great effort, Ji-hyun forced herself to stand, her legs feeling unsteady beneath her. She moved toward the kitchen, pulling open the fridge without really seeing what was inside. Her hands worked mechanically, grabbing a container of leftover rice and some side dishes, placing them on the counter as she tried to push away the thoughts clawing at the edges of her mind.

She barely tasted the food as she ate, her gaze distant, locked onto nothing. Each bite felt heavy, like she was swallowing stones. But she finished the meal, forcing herself to chew, to swallow, to function.

That was what she had to do now. Function.

Leaving the dishes in the sink, Ji-hyun trudged to the bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping in before the water had even warmed up. The icy chill shocked her skin, but she didn’t move away. She let it wash over her, hoping it would numb everything inside her.

As the water streamed down her face, she squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the edges of the shower nob as a quiet sob escaped her lips. The journal, the picture, the ripped-out pages—they haunted her. Soo-ah had been trying to say something. She had left behind something important, and now Ji-hyun was going to uncover it.

She had to.

By the time she stepped out of the shower, her body felt heavy with exhaustion. She dried herself off, barely noticing her own reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her looked different—her eyes colder, her face drawn tight with determination.

She changed into a loose t-shirt and shorts, her movements sluggish as she made her way to the bed. The military pendant lay on the bedside table, the small engraved letters catching the dim light of the room. Lieutenant Kang Soo-ah.

Ji-hyun reached out, brushing her fingers over the cool metal.

“Soo-ah…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

A deep ache settled in her chest, but she pushed it down. Lying back against the pillows, she exhaled slowly, forcing herself to relax. Her mind kept racing, thoughts tangled together in a chaotic mess.