Escape wasn't an option. Noise would give him away instantly. Direct confrontation wasn't an option either; he didn't know who was coming up the stairs. But observation... that's what Kim had drilled into him. Not just repeating moves, but reading intent, predicting paths.
He remembered the grueling training on "silent breathing" and "finding the blind spot." One slow, deliberate movement. He slid toward the corner farthest from the door, where two walls met in the deep shadow of the empty shelves. It wasn't a perfect hiding spot, but it was a tactical position. From there, he could see the room's entrance and the faint sliver of light from the window, while remaining submerged in deep darkness.
His breathing became shallow, almost inaudible. All his senses opened up. The sound of very light footsteps on the wooden stairs. A step... a pause... a step. The person was ascending with extreme caution, likely checking each floor.
The pressure was immense, but his mind shifted into calculation mode. Step count, estimated distance, approximate weight. Not heavy. Not too light. Agile.
Then, a long shadow began to stretch across the open doorway before its owner appeared. The shadow didn't carry an obvious weapon, but the right hand seemed poised near the waist, ready.
The man entered the room.
He wasn't one of "The Collection's" men from the garage attack. This was someone else. Perhaps in his late thirties, dressed in nondescript clothes—a dark tracksuit and tactical pants. His hair was short and neat, his movements economical and coiled. He stood in the center of the room, scanning it with a swift, sharp gaze, like a human scanner.
Then, abruptly, his eyes fixed on the spot on the floor where Jin-woo had found the paper scroll. He looked at it, then looked directly toward the corner where Jin-woo was hiding.
"I know you're here." The man's voice was calm and neutral, without overt hostility. "The dust on the floor... there are two sets of footprints. Yours are smaller."
Jin-woo froze. He'd made a basic tactical mistake. The dust was a record.
"You can come out. Or I can come to you. The second option would be... uncomfortable for you."
The voice was too confident. This man was a professional. But something was missing: the direct threat in the tone of "The Collection's" men. This was different.
Jin-woo decided to risk it. Not by coming out, but by speaking from his hiding spot.
"Who are you?" he asked, trying to mask the tremor in his voice.
The man was silent for a moment, as if analyzing the sound.
"I could be someone trying to help you. Or I could be the last person you see. That depends on who you are. You're the boy who saw something he shouldn't have in that garage. Aren't you?"
He knew about the garage. About Kim.
"What happened to Kim?" The question burst from Jin-woo before he could think.
"Taken. Temporarily. 'The Collection' enjoys interrogating its treasures before... repurposing them." The man chose his words carefully. "But you escaped. That made you interesting. And made you a target."
The man took one step further in, now better lit by the window. Jin-woo saw a small symbol on his tracksuit, near the collar. A different symbol: a figure in a fighting stance, but the circle above its head was complete, with a line piercing through it, like a guard holding a spear.
"You... you're not one of them." Jin-woo said.
"No. We watch them. We call them 'Grave Collectors.' And they call us... 'The Guardian Memory.'"
Guardian Memory. The counterpart to Faulty Memory.
"Why are you searching this place?" the man asked.
"Looking for answers."
"Here you'll only find dust and ghosts," the man said, glancing again at the spot on the floor. "But you found something, didn't you? A paper. Please, give it to me."
This was the real test. If he handed over the paper, he might surrender the only clue. If he refused, this "helpful" man might become an enemy.
And at that moment, they both heard another sound from below. A car door slamming shut hard in the street. Then another... and more. Multiple footsteps, heavy and fast, heading toward the building's entrance.
The man looked toward the door, and a clear expression appeared on his face for the first time: sharp alarm.
"They're here. Faster than expected." He looked toward Jin-woo's hiding spot. "Options are gone. Either you trust me now, or you fall into their hands. Decide in three seconds."
The full weight of reality crushed Jin-woo. The real "Collection" men were steps away. And this stranger who could be an ally... or a more complex trap.
Three... two...