Sniping - Chapter 4

As much as he had expected it, witnessing it unfold right in front of him sent dopamine coursing through his veins, leaving his entire body tingling. The small figure cloaked entirely in black stood still, unwavering, never even glancing back.

That made it even more thrilling.

They likely couldn’t move unless they were prepared for failure. Hyun-Se glanced at his wristwatch.

Two minutes.

The tense silence, thick with the tautness of a drawn bowstring, was exhilarating for him. Not even dismantling a bomb strapped to a hostage had been this nerve-wracking.

As he watched the motionless, small figure, the tension in his neck tightened, and his mouth grew dry. He rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, as if trying to quell the anticipation.

Then—

Bang!

The sharp crack of a gunshot, mixed with the whisper of wind, rang out. Precisely three seconds later, the still figure shifted, creaking into motion. Their head remained bowed as though afraid to face the truth, their hat obscuring their face.

“El, or should I call you Elise?”

The flat tone caused El to lift her chin slightly, just enough to reveal her lips, pressed tightly together. After exhaling a deep sigh, she turned her back to him again, quickly disassembling the sniper rifle and packing it into her large, black backpack.

Her hands moved so deftly and smoothly that Hyun-Se let out a small, incredulous chuckle.

Seriously? How can someone look like that and act like that but be such a sniper?

El, lugging a backpack nearly the size of her body, trudged toward him like a death-row inmate on their final walk. She should’ve left the scene immediately after confirming her shot, but instead, she approached him reluctantly.

As she struggled to lift her head, she finally met his gaze—his black eyes, brimming with an intense heat that seemed to devour her.

“…Are you going to report me?”

“Kitty, was that what you were worried about?”

“……”

Her tightly pressed lips looked forlorn. Seeing the fear and worry on her pale face, Hyun-Se’s eyes scanned her, taking in her bloodless complexion and the way her hands clung desperately to the straps of her bag.

She must have been waiting on this rooftop since dawn, dressed in clothes far too thin for the cold. Judging by her face, she hadn’t eaten anything, either. Straightening his tilted head, Hyun-Se grabbed her bag off her shoulder in one smooth motion.

Startled, El reached for the bag, but Hyun-Se caught her cold, trembling hands. They were like ice.

Her eyes widened, seemingly stuck in a state of surprise.

“We have some things to talk about, don’t we”

Holding her hand, Hyun-Se started walking, practically dragging her along behind him.

El was in a daze.

That Hyun-Se had shown up at her workplace. That he knew her codename. That he had taken her bag, held her hand, and—

That the café’s second floor was apparently his home.

And, most of all—

“We both lied to each other, so let’s call it even.”

Even his audacity to admit to lying so boldly was overwhelming. It was all too much at once.

As El sat in stunned silence, Hyun-Se handed her a thick ceramic bowl. Without even glancing at the spoon tucked into the dish, her wide eyes stayed fixed on his face, following him wherever he moved.

“Kitty, eat something first. At this rate, you’ll faint before we even talk.”

The warmth of the bowl in her hands spread through her palms. She blinked slowly, like an overloaded computer.

“El,” Hyun-Se called softly, his low voice grounding her as if willing her to focus.

Worried she might spill the bowl, he sat down beside her on the narrow sofa, which now felt crowded.

Finally, El noticed the savory aroma wafting from the bowl. Her stomach churned painfully; the only thing she had eaten since dawn was a chocolate bar.

On workdays, she always ate lightly the day before and nothing at all on the day itself. Even when she returned home after finishing a job, she rarely felt like eating.

But the combination of freezing cold and the warm, savory dish in front of her triggered an overwhelming hunger.

Conscious of Hyun-Se sitting beside her, El hesitated before scooping up a spoonful of what appeared to be soup.

It wasn’t soup but a vegetable porridge prepared by Jae-Chan.

Even though El typically refused unfamiliar foods, she chewed the porridge—which required no chewing at all—thoroughly before swallowing.

“…You’re not the café manager, are you?”

Though her mind swirled with questions, El decided to ask the one burning most in her mind. What exactly were Hyun-Se and the man with ivory-colored hair? The entire ride in Hyun-Se’s car, her thoughts had been a jumbled mess. The only comfort was knowing he wasn’t planning to report her to the police.

“Team leader?”

“That’s what the boss says… that he’s the boss, and I’m just something like a team leader.”

She hadn’t realized how cold she was until the warmth of the food spread through her, easing the tension in her body.

“He’s just a regular employee, and I’m the team leader.”

“…I knew something was off.”

She was speaking sincerely, but Hyun-Se chuckled softly.

Watching her chew the vegetable porridge as though it required effort, he wondered if this was the same person who had just pulled off a flawless sniper shot from 900 yards away.

On the way over, he had called Jae-Chan, instructing him to heat up the porridge prepared earlier in the morning and to stay clear of the second floor. Jae-Chan had grumbled, saying he couldn’t believe El was the infamous ‘Elise,’ claiming she didn’t look like a sniper at all—more like someone who wouldn’t hurt a fly. He had abruptly hung up, muttering that Jae-Chan should’ve seen her disassemble the rifle.

“So, what exactly do you do?”

There was no way an ordinary office worker would know she was Elise. Feeling she couldn’t eat any more, El subtly placed the bowl on the table and glanced nervously at Hyun-Se, who was now staring at her.

He had one arm draped casually over the back of the sofa but then stood, walked across to an armchair opposite her, and sat down.

The sudden shift left an odd emptiness beside her, and she glanced briefly at the spot where he had been sitting.

“I’m a civil servant.”

Hyun-Se’s eyes flicked to the seat he had vacated before locking on her face again.

El seemed to mull over his words, her eyes darting as though trying to piece something together. Then she hesitantly opened her mouth.

“…Police? Are you police? Are you going to arrest me?”

Her initial relief at him not reporting her evaporated at the thought. If he were the police, reporting her wouldn’t even be necessary.

El bit her lip hard, staring at him with a mixture of suspicion and betrayal. Her nose stung as though tears might spill.

“Why? Have you done something worth getting arrested for?”

“……”

She avoided his gaze. El knew. The work she did wasn’t ordinary; it was dangerous, something to be kept hidden. When she had debuted as a sniper, Chris had told her bluntly:

“Ellie, I don’t think what we’re doing is bad. I still don’t. But people will think it’s bad. So don’t get caught. Keep it hidden.”

Chris had also explained what would happen if she were caught, but back then, she hadn’t cared much.

El’s life had been like that. Living locked in a house and abused by her mother was worse than learning how to shoot and living with Chris. Chris had been her protector, teaching her how to survive and praising her efforts.

“…I’m a bad person. A… a mafia member.”

Chris had instilled in her a standard for accepting assignments: only when the targets were criminals, such as members of the mafia. The United States, where she had worked, had no shortage of people who fit that standard.

“El, I’ve been wondering something.”

“……”

“How did Elise, who’s supposedly a man in his late 20s, turn out to be you?”

The stark contrast between her trembling figure, barely able to meet his eyes, and the calm precision she’d shown earlier as a sniper, sent an unsettling mix of fascination and tension through Hyun-Se.

“…Chris said it was better to lie.”

“And who’s Chris?”

As if in a trance, El stammered out an explanation about Chris. Hyun-Se listened intently, his unwavering gaze fixed on her face. Though he had suspected her past might be troubled, her story revealed a depth of hardship that shocked even him. Pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, he asked:

“How old were you?”

“…Eighteen.”

“Fuck.”

When she’d debuted as a sniper. He nearly dropped the cigarette from his lips at her answer. For the first time, he understood why Chris had lied about her age and gender. If the truth had been known, she would’ve faced relentless scrutiny, and worse, she might’ve been exposed to dangers that could have killed her.

“So, where’s Chris now?”

“…Dead. Two years ago.”

At her quiet response, Hyun-Se felt a pang of bitter satisfaction. As El recounted how Chris had died and shared that the house she now lived in was one they had moved into together, her expression grew somber. The physical and emotional toll of her recent job was evident—after all, sniping required immense stamina, and she was exhausted.

As though awaiting judgment, El sat silently, her large eyes blinking as she glanced at him. Hyun-Se held the cigarette between his fingers and smirked.

“Kitty, I’m not the police, so I’m not taking you in. I need you.”

His words sounded almost impossibly sweet to El, too good to believe.