Joseph woke up the next morning to a gray light shyly slipping through the hospital window. It wasn't restful sleep, but rather a failed attempt to escape a troubled reality. He sat on his bed heavily, as if his body was still stuck between folds of pain and doubt.
He looked at his watch, took a deep breath, then rose slowly. He had to prepare to go to the Korean Guardians Agency. He didn't know what awaited him there, but he felt that this day wouldn't be ordinary.
He left the hospital quietly, and outside, a black car was waiting for him. No smiling driver, no friendly escort—just a door that opened before him without a single word. He got into the car without hesitation, his eyes watching the road, while his mind drowned in a whirlpool of possibilities.
The ride didn't take long. Upon arrival, he stood before the gate of the Guardians Agency. A massive, gray building, reeking of decisive judgments and ancient blood. He entered with steady steps, but his heart beat with an unusual rhythm.
There, in one of the quiet corridors, Deputy Head of the Agency "Choi Yoon-Seok" awaited him. Beside him stood the same investigator who had previously questioned him. There were no smiles. No warmth. Just hard, cold stares that explained nothing.
Joseph felt a strange prickling in his chest. Something wasn't right. Why would the Deputy Head meet with a lower-ranking investigator? What brought them together now? Questions multiplied like endless shadows.
Joseph approached and greeted them with quiet tension.
The response came cold, barely within the bounds of formality.
Choi spoke with his deep voice, without bothering to look him directly in the eye:
— "Follow us… this way."
At that moment, it wasn't the voice that worried Joseph, but the tone. The tone of a man who left no room for doubt, and didn't hide that behind the doors they were about to open… something awaited.
Something that could change everything.
Joseph walked heavily behind the two men through a long corridor lit by cold white lights. The walls were silent, as if they listened to what hadn't yet been said. The three stopped in front of a metal door, opened wordlessly by one of the staff, then entered a white room that seemed stripped of time and place.
In the center of the room was a rectangular metal table, around it three chairs placed with deliberate precision. Each sat in his seat, and only the glances spoke.
Joseph, with his disheveled hair and a face worn out by days, didn't wait long before speaking:
— "What's going on here? Why was I summoned?"
The deputy didn't answer. Instead, the investigator turned directly toward him, staring with a sharp gaze as if piercing his skin:
— "Where have you been for the past month?"
A deadly silence fell over the room.
Joseph's face suddenly paled, as if the blood drained from his veins, and the words froze in his mouth. He hadn't expected that question, nor was he prepared for it.
The investigator didn't give him time to collect his thoughts, instead adding with more intensity:
— "Were you planning something during this time?"
Joseph looked at the table, avoiding their watchful eyes, and felt as though every wall in the room pressed against his chest. Escape was not an option, and lying could lead him to ruin.
He breathed slowly and said in a faint voice, barely audible:
— "I entered a maze… alone. And I got trapped inside."
Silence returned again. But this time, it wasn't comforting—it was like a sword hanging over his neck.
The investigator stared at him for a long time, then said:
— "If you were trapped inside a gate… how did you get out?"
Time stopped.
Air froze.
Every thought in Joseph's head came to a halt.
He hadn't expected that question, and had no convincing answer.
But he didn't speak the truth.
He said weakly:
— "I don't know… I found a gate in front of me, and I walked out through it."
The answer sounded vague, rootless. The looks in the eyes of the investigator and the deputy betrayed nothing. They weren't convinced—on the contrary, their suspicion only deepened.
Choi Yoon-Seok turned to the investigator, then looked back at Joseph.
The atmosphere in the room grew tenser.
The investigator was about to ask a new question, but the Deputy Head raised his hand abruptly, cutting off his words before they emerged.
— "I'll take it from here," he said in a low voice, heavy with unspoken weight.
He took a set of photos from his inner pocket and laid them before Joseph on the table.
Joseph wasn't prepared for that.
As soon as his eyes fell upon the photos, he froze in place, and words dropped from his mouth like stones falling into a bottomless well.
Three photos… three corpses.
Mutilated bodies, yet familiar. Faces once known, even if now lifeless.
A cold terror crept into Joseph's limbs, and his mouth went completely dry. He couldn't even move his tongue. The first photo… then the second… then the third.
"How…?" he said inwardly, unable to believe what his eyes were seeing. "How did they find the bodies?!"
The deputy broke the silence with an accusing tone:
— "Do you know them?"
Joseph hesitated, then answered in a faltering voice, each letter emerging from internal wreckage:
— "Y-yes…"
The deputy stared at him sharply, then said:
— "You mentioned in your previous statement that these people were devoured by a snake inside the maze, but after the bodies were found and examined… it turned out the cause of death wasn't devouring. But deep wounds caused by a sharp weapon."
The words sounded like bullets in Joseph's chest. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wanted to deny, to scream, to run… but his body no longer obeyed him.
The deputy continued, stepping slowly toward Joseph until he was close enough to whisper, though his voice was clearer than any scream:
— "And there was no one at the crime scene… except you and… Hana."
Joseph's face trembled, paling more than before. He didn't know what to say. Every word could be used against him. Every silence could condemn his soul.
The deputy took one more step, nearly touching Joseph's nose, then said slowly, more of a warning than a question:
— "Listen… if you're hiding something, it's better you say it now."
The room grew narrower, and the white light harsher. Everything seemed as though the truth was unveiling, and Joseph's head floated atop a sea of secrets… secrets he couldn't speak.
Silence began to gnaw at the corners of the room, growing heavier than any question. Joseph had no escape left. The stares of the deputy and the investigator were like knives, surrounding every thought, doubting every word.
Only one choice remained…
The truth.
Or part of it.
Joseph breathed slowly, then raised his head and looked at the photos again.
Finally, he said in a faint voice, laced with regret and exhaustion:
— "Si-Hun, Seok-Won, and Li Lian… they didn't die the way you thought. They tried to kill us… me and Hana."
The investigator's expression shifted, his eyebrows lifting in calm shock, while the deputy remained silent, staring without a blink.
Joseph continued:
— "We had no other choice… it was us, or them."
The investigator rubbed his chin, then said:
— "So… internal conflict? That's what you're trying to say?"
But before Joseph could answer, the deputy's voice pierced the moment, colder than before:
— "How did you manage to kill them? They were stronger than you."
Another question, more brutal than the last. It seemed to strip away all protection from Joseph, leaving him exposed to the truth.
He stuttered, hesitated, then said:
— "Hana… Hana helped me. She boosted my strength."
A moment of silence.
A moment longer than time itself.
The deputy didn't respond immediately, just kept staring at him as though peering into a bottomless black hole. Then he finally said:
— "I see…"
His words were cold but carried something strange. As if he had known all along that Joseph wasn't telling the full truth, but wanted to see how far he would lie.
Then he added:
— "Why didn't you tell us this from the beginning?"
Joseph looked at the floor, then at the table, and finally into the deputy's eyes and said:
— "Because… I didn't know what to do. Hana and I felt that this… choice was for the best."
The words weren't convincing, but he spoke them nonetheless.
The deputy slowly shook his head, then stood, pulled the photos from the table, and returned them to his inner pocket as if closing a file—not for good.
He said in a calm tone, but one that carried a clear decision:
— "Very well. I'll leave you now with the investigator. He'll continue from here."
Then he turned and left the room, the door closing behind him with a sound like a slap.
Now…
Joseph was alone.
And the investigator opposite him…
And the clock of truth ticking.