Fate in the Rain

Ashes of Hope

The dawn light over Busan’s Haeundae Beach was swallowed by the acrid smoke billowing from the warehouse, its red door now a maw of flame. Kang Min-jae stood frozen, his heart pounding as Hye-jin—Soo-jin’s mother—faced them, her auburn hair catching the fire’s glow, the blinking device in her hand a silent accusation. Her words—“You should’ve trusted me”—hung in the air, sharp and cold, as the warehouse burned, threatening to consume the evidence that could topple Choi Enterprises. Soo-jin’s gasp beside him was a knife to Min-jae’s chest, her face crumpling with betrayal and grief.Soo-jin clutched her backpack, the USB drive and documents inside their last lifeline, her eyes locked on her mother. “Why?” she demanded, her voice breaking over the crackle of flames. “You said you were protecting me. Why burn it?”Hye-jin’s expression was unreadable, her eyes glinting with something—regret, or calculation? “I had no choice,” she said, her voice low but steady. “Your father’s men were too close. If they got the evidence, it’d be over. This way, we control what’s left.”Min-jae’s gut twisted, his mind racing. The letter from Hye-jin to his mother, Eun-ji, had promised evidence in Busan, but now the warehouse was an inferno, and Hye-jin’s actions screamed betrayal. Lee Min-soo, Soo-jin’s uncle, was still inside, along with Joon-ho, Lee Soo-kyung, and the metal box of documents. Had Hye-jin sacrificed her own brother to protect the evidence, or was this a trap to bury them all? The memory of Ji-hoon’s silenced shout and Han’s stand at the pier gnawed at him—too many betrayals, too many lies.“We need to get in there,” Min-jae said, his voice rough, stepping toward the warehouse. “If there’s anything left, we can’t let it burn.”Soo-jin grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with panic. “It’s too dangerous,” she said. “Min-jae, we have the drive. We can still—”“No,” he cut in, his gaze flicking to Hye-jin, who stood motionless, the device still in her hand. “If she’s telling the truth, there’s more inside. Your uncle, your mother—they risked everything for this. We can’t walk away.”Hye-jin’s eyes softened, a flicker of approval crossing her face. “He’s right,” she said. “There’s a safe in the back, fireproof. Min-soo hid the most critical evidence there—recordings, contracts, names. If you can get to it, you can end this.”Soo-jin’s breath hitched, her eyes darting between her mother and the flames. “And if you’re lying?” she asked, her voice trembling with hurt. “You left me. For years. How do I trust you now?”Hye-jin’s face crumpled, but she stepped closer, her voice urgent. “I left to protect you, Soo-jin. Your father would’ve killed me, and you’d have been his pawn. I’ve been working with Min-soo, hiding, waiting for this moment. Please, trust me now.”Min-jae’s heart pounded, the heat from the warehouse stinging his skin. The distant wail of sirens—fire trucks or police, likely under Choi Enterprises’ sway—grew louder. Joon-ho and Soo-kyung were still inside, a threat as real as the flames. He turned to Soo-jin, his hand brushing hers. “We go in,” he said. “Together. But we’re careful.”Soo-jin nodded, her eyes fierce despite the tears. “Okay,” she said, slinging her backpack tighter. She looked at Hye-jin, her voice hard. “You’re coming with us. If this is a trap, you burn too.”Hye-jin nodded, tossing the blinking device into the sand. “Fair enough,” she said, her voice steady.They sprinted toward the warehouse, the heat intensifying as they neared the red door. Smoke poured out, choking the air, but a side entrance—partially ajar—offered a way in. Min-jae led, pulling his jacket over his mouth, Soo-jin and Hye-jin close behind. Inside, the warehouse was a hellscape of smoke and flame, crates collapsing under the fire’s hunger. The metal box Min-soo had shown them was gone, likely buried under debris, but Hye-jin pointed to a back corner. “The safe,” she coughed. “Behind the shelves.”They navigated through the smoke, the crackle of flames deafening. Min-jae’s eyes stung, his lungs burning, but he spotted a heavy shelf, its metal warped but intact. Behind it, a small safe was bolted to the floor, its surface scorched but unyielding. “Key?” he asked, turning to Hye-jin.She shook her head, coughing. “Min-soo has it. He was near the front when the fire started.”Soo-jin’s face paled, her eyes scanning the inferno. “He’s still here?” she asked, her voice breaking. “We have to find him.”Before Min-jae could respond, a figure staggered through the smoke—Min-soo, his shoulder b****y, his face ashen. “Soo-jin,” he rasped, clutching a small key. “Take it. The safe—get it out.”Soo-jin rushed to him, catching him as he stumbled. “Uncle,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”“No time,” he coughed, pressing the key into her hand. “Go. Now.”A crash echoed behind them, Joon-ho emerging from the smoke, his face twisted with rage. Lee Soo-kyung was at his side, her shoulder bleeding but her g*n raised. “You’re not leaving,” Joon-ho snarled, his eyes on Soo-jin. “The drive, the safe—all of it. Now.”Min-jae’s heart raced, his mind flashing to the lock on Namsan’s fence, their promise to survive this. He grabbed a piece of charred wood, hurling it at Joon-ho, who dodged but stumbled. “Soo-jin, the safe!” he shouted, rushing to block Soo-kyung.Soo-jin scrambled to the safe, her hands shaking as she inserted the key. The lock clicked, revealing a hard drive and a stack of papers, their edges singed but intact. She stuffed them into her backpack, her eyes flicking to Min-soo, who was struggling to stand. Hye-jin pulled him up, her face grim. “We need to move,” she said.Min-jae grappled with Soo-kyung, her g*n clattering to the floor as he shoved her against a crate. Joon-ho lunged, his fist connecting with Min-jae’s jaw, pain exploding in his head. But Soo-jin’s shout—“Got it!”—gave him strength. He kicked Joon-ho’s knee, sending him down, and ran to Soo-jin, helping her drag Min-soo toward the side entrance.They stumbled into the cool dawn air, the sea’s roar a stark contrast to the warehouse’s inferno. Hye-jin supported Min-soo, her face streaked with soot. “There’s a boat,” she said, pointing to a small dock nearby. “I hid it for emergencies. Get to it.”The sirens were closer now, red and blue lights flashing along the coastal road. Min-jae’s heart sank—Choi Enterprises’ reach was inescapable. But as they reached the dock, a figure stepped from the shadows—Han, his leg b****y, his g*n raised but not aimed at them. “Get in the boat,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll hold them off.”Soo-jin’s eyes widened. “You’re alive,” she said, relief flooding her voice. “I thought—”“No time,” Han cut in, his eyes scanning the road. “Joon-ho’s not done. Go.”They piled into the small boat, Min-jae at the helm, Hye-jin and Min-soo in the back. Soo-jin clutched her backpack, the new evidence a heavy weight. The engine roared, pulling them away from the burning warehouse, Haeundae’s lights fading into the mist. But as they rounded a cove, a speedboat’s engine growled behind them, Joon-ho’s silhouette visible at its helm, Soo-kyung beside him.“They’re not giving up,” Soo-jin said, her voice trembling but fierce.Min-jae’s eyes met hers, their shared resolve a lifeline. “We’ll lose them,” he said, pushing the boat harder. “We have the evidence. We can end this.”Hye-jin’s voice cut through, urgent. “Head for Gwangan Bridge,” she said. “There’s a contact there—a journalist. She’ll take the evidence, make it public.”Min-soo coughed, his voice weak. “She’s right. But there’s something you need to know, Soo-jin. The evidence—it’s not just about your father. It’s about me. I… I made mistakes. I helped him, years ago.”Soo-jin’s face paled, her eyes locking on her uncle. “What kind of mistakes?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.Before Min-soo could answer, a gunshot rang out, the speedboat closing in. The bullet struck the boat’s side, water spraying. Min-jae swerved, but the engine sputtered, smoke rising from the hull. And then, from the shore, a new light flared—a helicopter, its searchlight pinning them, its roar drowning out the sea.