The morning sun rose unnoticed.
At Seoul Medica Trauma Wing, where life and death collided in cold, sterile rooms, Dr. Seo Ra-hee moved like a shadow through the halls—unseen, but heavy with presence. Her white coat trailed behind her, the symbol of her profession now weighted with guilt, questions, and one man's blood.
Jang Tae-hyun.
The man she saved against reason. The man who refused to die.
The man whose name was inked in red across underworld headlines.
The Echoes of a Mistake—or a Miracle
Ra-hee's hands trembled over her surgical notes. She hadn't told anyone what she'd seen during the operation: the tattoo of the white tiger, clawed and snarling across his ribs. The symbol of Baekho—the most feared syndicate in South Korea.
She had stitched flesh over that ink. Over a legacy of blood.
And now she was paying the price.
"Dr. Seo?"
She jumped. Her head nurse stood at the door, pale-faced. "The Director wants to see you. Immediately."
Of course he does.
The Office of Cold Judgement
Director Min's office was a glass box at the top floor—overlooking the city, but colder than a morgue. His voice was clipped, deliberate, his glare sharp enough to cut.
"You operated on a ghost, Doctor."
Ra-hee stood, spine straight. "He was bleeding out. I made a call."
"A dangerous one. Do you have any idea who that man is?"
She said nothing.
Min tossed a thin folder across the table. "I received this from a contact at the intelligence bureau. You may want to read it."
She did.
Tae-hyun's picture—cleaner, younger—stared back at her from a government file marked Classified. His record was buried under redactions, but the words still cut deep.
Extortion. Murder. Disappearance.
Min leaned in. "You didn't just save a criminal. You saved a legend. And now he's brought his ghosts to our doorstep."
Ra-hee lifted her chin. "He was dying. That's all that mattered."
Min's voice hardened. "If he dies in this hospital, it will be war. If he lives—worse. We're transferring him to a lockdown unit. Private guards. No press. No names."
"And if he refuses?"
"He doesn't get a choice. And if you keep involving yourself, neither do you."
The Transfer
Room 5 had already been sealed off. A pair of private security agents flanked the door, their eyes scanning Ra-hee like she might be a weapon.
She stepped inside and froze.
Tae-hyun was standing.
His hospital gown was replaced with a plain black hoodie and loose sweats. He looked… alive. Bruised. Haunted. But undeniably real.
His eyes met hers, unreadable.
"You're here to say goodbye?"
She shook her head. "I'm here to tell you they're moving you."
"I heard."
Ra-hee hesitated. "You should've died, Tae-hyun. But you didn't. And now they're terrified of what that means."
He chuckled bitterly. "They should be."
She stepped closer. "You think you're some kind of monster. But what kind of monster risks his life to disappear? What kind of monster asks to be left to die?"
Tae-hyun looked away.
"You're not running from people, are you?" she whispered. "You're running from yourself."
That made him turn back.
"You think you understand me?"
"No," she said softly. "But I think you want to be understood."
He stared at her for a long moment.
Then: "You shouldn't care."
"I tried not to," she said, voice cracking. "But I do."
The Past Behind His Eyes
Ra-hee placed a gentle hand on his arm—over the scar, the ink, the pain. "What happened to you?"
Tae-hyun sat down, slow and stiff. "My father died when I was twelve. My mother owed money. Baekho offered a way out. One job. One delivery. One lie."
He gave a humorless laugh.
"Turns out I was good at lying. Good at bleeding for others. They turned me into a ghost before I turned twenty."
Ra-hee's throat tightened. "And no one tried to stop it?"
"I didn't let them." His eyes lifted to hers. "And now, I don't know how to live outside of violence. Outside of control. Until you…"
He stopped himself.
"Until I what?" she asked.
Tae-hyun looked at her like she was something impossible. A sunrise in a world that only knew night.
"Until you looked at me like I deserved to be human."
A Moment Too Close
They sat in silence, inches apart.
The air between them was charged—electric with things unsaid.
Ra-hee leaned forward, just slightly. "You don't have to go back to that life."
He smiled, soft and broken. "It's not a choice anymore."
"You can make it one."
He reached up, brushing her hand. "Don't fall for me, Doctor."
"I didn't plan to."
"Then why are your hands shaking?"
They were.
And in that fragile space between trust and danger, between a doctor's heart and a criminal's soul—Ra-hee realized she was already far too deep.
She didn't want to save him anymore.
She wanted to know him.
That Night
She returned to her apartment long past midnight.
Rain lashed the windows. Her phone was full of missed calls from the director, the ethics board, her father.
But all she could think about was the look in Tae-hyun's eyes.
Not the violence.
Not the history.
But the man behind it all—quietly hoping he was still worth saving.
And as she curled up on her couch, exhausted and sleepless, she whispered a single truth to the darkness:
"I don't care what he's done. I care about what he could become."
To Be Continued...