It was one thing to bankrupt an amusement park or give a movie star some questionably cooked shrimp, but it was another to start a war. Korea still felt the scars of the last Korean War. Half of my class had grandparents who were war orphans. US military bases loomed over the Yellow Sea decades later. All Korean men still had to serve in the military for two years because of that war. How much damage would another war cause? Plus, North Korea had nuclear weapons now. What if the war caused them to wipe the entire Korean Peninsula off the map? Was “the will of the timeline” worth it?
I carefully smoothed out my facial expression, rehearsing my next words in my mind before I spoke them out loud. “Sajang-nim,” I said quietly. “Would a war with North Korea endanger our work here?” It wasn’t the question I’d wanted to ask, but it was onethat would express my reservations without making Hong Gildong mad.
“The descendants will not be in danger,” Hong Gildong said easily. “Don’t worry, Mina. What we do here is too valuable to risk losing descendants in a surprise attack. There are no surprises when you can see the whole timeline at once. You and your family will be safe.”
“And the humans?” I said, daring to look up.
Hong Gildong blinked quickly, as if he hadn’t expected the question. “Well, humans die every day,” he said with a shrug. “It’s inevitable.”
“O-of course,” I said quickly, dropping my gaze to my lap because his golden glare felt like it was unmaking me.
“Do you still feel compassion for humans, Mina?” Hong Gildong said, a hint of laughter in his voice, like he was asking if I still believed in the Tooth Fairy.
I swallowed, scrambling for a way I could object. “I just—”
“It’s not your fault,” Hong Gildong said, patting my shoulder. “Compassion is the inevitable result of dragon blood being so diluted with human blood over generations. You will feel it less over time.”
“I see,” I said, the only polite phrase I could manage. Hong Gildong’s grip tightened on my shoulder, and I was sure he could feel the trembling deep in my bones. I felt like prey under his gaze—surely he was scanning my body language, cataloging my responses, making sure I was loyal even now. One careless facial expression could throw away everything I’d worked for.
“It’s not supposed to be easy,” Hong Gildong went on. Something sharp stung my collarbone, and I realized that his claws were just slightly tearing through my shirt. “That’s why it’s a final exam. But you’ve been entrusted with this because we believe you can help us hold the world together. The timeline architects ran through a thousand different scenarios and determined that you have the highest chanceof a successful outcome. In part because you look like a rather… unlikely assassin. But also because your infiltration scores are impressive. This is your chance to show us that you’ll wield those skills for good.”
“That makes sense,” I said, the words hollow. I imagined a war-torn Seoul in the window behind Hong Gildong, the ground maroon with blood and dirt, no end to the ruins until the churning black sea that lapped at the ashes on the shore. All because of me.
“Of course, we can’tmakeyou do anything,” Hong Gildong said, releasing my shoulder. Hot blood trickled down my sleeve, but I forced myself not to look, not to show weakness. I sat perfectly still as Hong Gildong rounded his desk and sat in his chair once more. “Should you feel that our interests no longer align, we can discuss… alternate arrangements for you.”
Like a brain scrub, I thought. I imagined Hong Gildong’s claws extending and cracking my skull open like a chestnut, digging out brain matter and sloughing it on the floor.
One thing was certain: I could never start this war for him.
I had once thought I would do anything to get Hana back, but I’d meant sacrificing any part ofmyself, not other people. I couldn’t end the lives of millions of humans in Hana’s name.
But if I refused Hong Gildong now, I would lose any chance of restoring the original timeline and finding Hana. I would lose all my memories of learning about Timeline Alpha, and they would find some other descendant to start their war in my place. And this time, my family wouldn’t be safe when the bombs fell.
I would have to find a way out of it that didn’t leave me dead or with half a brain left, but for now, there was only one right answer, one way that I could leave this room alive.
“There’s no need for that,” I said, forcing my face into a tight smile. “Our interests have always aligned. I’m honored you would entrust me with a mission of such importance. I promise I’ll execute it perfectly.”
Hong Gildong watched me for a long moment, as if appraising me. I held my breath as his golden gaze flickered across my face, took in my breathing, probably even counted my heartbeats as if he could taste the lie.
At last, he smiled.
“This will mark the end of your missions with Hyebin,” Hong Gildong said. “She’ll assist with your firearms training, but after that, you’re on your own. It’s your chance to show us all you’ve got. I know you’ll do well.”
The words chilled my blood. Hong Gildong didn’t toss out hollow platitudes—he could see the whole timeline laid out before him, and he must have seen me setting the world on fire.
Chapter Fifteen
Yejun didn’t come to school on Monday, and I started seriously considering how to ask Hyebin about it.Hey, Sunbae-nim, hypothetically speaking, do we have any time jails under Emart where we keep traitors before erasing them? Seen any new traitors lately? Asking for a friend.
None of my texts were going through to his phone anymore, which I hoped meant he’d turned it off so he couldn’t be tracked. All weekend, I’d stayed awake staring at the ceiling, paranoid that I’d miss one of Yejun’s texts in the middle of the night, and now I was falling asleep a little bit in class every time I blinked.
At least Jihoon brought me coffee in the morning in addition to Yakult. Unfortunately, he also insisted on holding my hand and escorting me to all my classes even though it made him late for his own, and he had downloaded a date-counting app to track how many days we’d been dating, since apparently we were official now.
As sweet as Jihoon was, I felt like a liar whenever his face lit up at the sight of me. I needed to break it off somehow but couldn’t figure out how to do it without feeling like a supervillain. Maybe Icould tell him I’d had a religious awakening and had to become a nun, or gradually reduce how often I showered until he found me too gross to be around and lost interest?
But at this point, Jihoon seemed so hopelessly enamored with me that he would probably call my used tissues “art” and donate them to a museum.
And of course, there was the small matter of how to get out of starting a war.
