The café beneath the safehouse opened at dawn. Normally, the scent of roasted beans drifted upward in warm curls, comforting and harmless. This morning, it seeped through the cracks of the floorboards like a warning — a reminder that outside their thin walls, life continued, unaware that five fugitives sat above it deciding whether to dismantle one of the most powerful families in Korea. Mirae watched the slow brightening of the sky through the curtain. Peach. Gray. Blue. It felt wrong that the world could look so gentle after what she had done. Behind her, Taewoo stretched dramatically on the couch. “If anyone’s wondering, yes, sleeping on a sofa ruins a man’s posture. I’ll sue when this is over.” Harim, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a blanket around his shoulders, didn’t l
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