Agent 004

When I don’t have school, I work a shift at Hope’s Coffee Deluxe—a small but cozy shop tucked right in the heart of Busan. It’s nothing flashy, but it has that warm kind of charm that makes regulars feel like family. The smell of freshly ground beans clings to my clothes long after my shift ends, and I swear their chocolate croissants are so good, they could make a grown man cry. They serve the finest pastries, the kind that melt on your tongue, and coffee strong enough to wake the dead. I’ve worked there long enough to know exactly which customers are here for caffeine and which ones are here to linger in the soft lighting, pretending they have work to do. Now, though, I’m on my way home. Darkness stretches over the streets like a thick blanket, swallowing every bit of daylight. The air is damp and heavy, and the rain that’s been threatening all evening finally starts to fall—gentle droplets at first, but insistent enough to tell me I need to pick up my pace. My route isn’t complicated, but it does force me through one of Busan’s narrow alleyways. And like every dark alley I’ve read about in mystery novels or seen in bad crime dramas, this one does not inspire confidence. It’s the kind of place where shadows cling to walls like they’re hiding secrets. I clutch the strap of my backpack tighter and release a slow breath, watching faint puffs of vapor float in the air. My nose stings from the cold, the tip already turning pink. The rain hasn’t turned into a downpour yet, but the air has that electric stillness that says it’s coming. Halfway through, the brick walls feel like they’re closing in, squeezing the light out of the space. The sound of my footsteps bounces off them, quickening without my permission. And then—movement. An eerie shadow flickers just at the edge of my vision. Gone before I can turn my head, but enough to spike my heartbeat. The temperature seems to drop instantly. Sweat beads along my hairline despite the chill. Every instinct in my body screams to move faster, but I force my steps into something steady. Rushing would just make me look scared. I focus on the faint glow ahead—the streetlights at the end of the alley. Safety is just there. But before I’m halfway, a voice slices through the air. “Well, well.” It’s deep. Groggy. And far too amused. I freeze. My breath stutters, chest tight. A group of men materializes from the darkness, blocking the path ahead. The first thing I notice are the tattoos—inky, vine-like patterns curling up their necks and under their collars. The second is the way their eyes move, slow and deliberate, as if they’re sizing up a new product. A laugh erupts behind me, sending a shiver tearing down my spine. I don’t have to turn to know it’s the same man who spoke first. The news has been full of them lately. Girls disappearing—sometimes in broad daylight, sometimes without a sound at night. Abductions. Trafficking. Everyone talks about it; no one seems able to stop it. And now, here I am. “She’s worth it,” one of them mutters, licking his lips. His gaze slides down and back up, the kind of look that makes my stomach twist. The leader takes a step forward. “Now, now, little girl. If you’re good, we promise to give you a prize.” I step back, the damp wall greeting me with a cold, unforgiving thud. Five of them. Just me. One of the men behind speaks. “Boss, someone’s coming.” The so-called boss huffs, pulling the cigarette from his mouth. Smoke snakes into the cold air as he smirks. “Get her.” And then—my earpiece shrieks. “He’s gonna get away!” I resist the urge to rip it out. In their eyes, it looks like I’m talking to myself when I reply, “Not on my watch.” They hesitate, confusion flickering over their faces. I let a smirk curl my lips. A hand reaches for me. I duck, pulling a small silver canister from my bag. One press and it hisses, releasing a gas that makes their eyes water and throats choke. I drop low, sweeping my leg in a wide arc. Two of them hit the ground hard. The rest stumble, coughing, giving me enough space to pull the Glock from my backpack. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. I don’t aim to kill. Not yet. The boss doesn’t flinch, cigarette clenched between his teeth, eyes locked on me. But his smirk is gone, replaced by a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Game over. Even if he tries to run, I’ll drop him before he reaches the corner. “Impressive,” he says, clapping slowly. “Impressive.” I tilt my head, matching his mockery with a grin. “Bring back-up,” I speak into the earpiece. “I can’t believe you killed—” “I shot them in the legs,” I interrupt, ignoring the way his eyebrow twitches. “Already on their way,” my partner responds. Within minutes, the alley floods with agents in black tactical gear. Vans pull up, doors sliding open to swallow the groaning men. The boss is the last to go, but not before leaning forward, locking eyes with me. “This isn’t over,” he says. The doors slam shut. The alley clears fast, the scene stripped bare as if nothing happened. “Job well done, Agent 004.” I turn to see Tyson Jung—Agent 007—walking toward me, his grin smug. He’s the one who’s been barking in my ear all night. “I didn’t think you’d catch him this fast,” he says. I spin the gun once around my finger before holstering it. Han Shin Lee thought trafficking women would make him rich. He thought wrong. Justice always wins. ••• KIA—Korea’s International Agency. The top of the top. Agent 001 sits at the peak, a ghost in the system. He’s the best, but no one ever sees him. Not in the halls. Not in briefings. I’ve heard his name whispered in training sessions, but in my eleven years with the agency, I’ve never once crossed paths with him. I was just a kid when they recruited me, barely eleven when training began. Grueling doesn’t even begin to describe it. I bled, I broke bones, I burned. But I climbed my way into the top ten. “Good job completing the mission, Agent 004.” The voice belongs to June Don Travers—handsome, brilliant, terrifying. The head of the agency. He offers me a slim file. “For your next mission, pair up with Agent 001 and capture the leader of the Ace gang.” I blink. “Come again?”