CHAPTER 32 – THE SHRINE OF GHOSTS
11:59 p.m. – Yeongnam Mountainside – Shrine of Kang Joon-Hwan
The wind howled like a beast starved of sleep.
Fog curled around the stone steps of the old shrine, moss-covered and cracked from age. Cherry blossoms—long dead—lay wilted across the ground, their petals faded to ash.
And beneath the weight of the midnight sky, Min-Jun stood alone.
Black coat. Black gloves. A loaded pistol beneath his jacket.
Waiting.
This was the place where Kang Joon-Hwan, Yeon-Hwa's father, was buried in secret. The shrine had been abandoned since his fall. Min-Jun knew it well — he'd helped bury the man after putting a bullet in his skull.
It was supposed to be justice.
But the ghosts never left.
He heard her before he saw her.
The sharp click of heels on stone.
Then the figure appeared from the mist — all black silk and blood-red lips. Her hair pulled back tightly. Her eyes colder than the grave they stood upon.
Yeon-Hwa.
She smiled faintly, lips curling like a serpent's.
"You came," she said softly, stepping closer. "I wasn't sure you had it in you."
Min-Jun didn't move. "I always finish what I start."
She glanced around. "No snipers? No backup? Very heroic."
"No need." He met her gaze. "I'm here to end this. With you."
Yeon-Hwa walked toward the shrine's altar, her fingers trailing along the edge of the stone. "It's funny, isn't it? We've come full circle. You, me… and him." She tapped the gravestone with her nails.
Min-Jun stepped closer. "He was a monster. You know that."
"And yet I loved him."
"He turned you into this."
"No," she whispered. "You did."
---
Flashback – 14 Years Ago – The Night of the First Blood
A child's scream echoed in a cold hallway.
Gunfire. Screams. A broken mirror.
Yeon-Hwa, fifteen, hiding under her father's desk. Her tiny fists covering her ears as her father choked on his last breath.
Outside, a young Min-Jun stood over Kang Joon-Hwan's body, eyes blank, hands shaking.
That night, she saw him.
That night, she swore vengeance.
Not just for her father.
But for the part of her he killed, too.
---
Present – The Shrine
Yeon-Hwa pulled something from her coat pocket. A black velvet box.
Min-Jun stiffened.
"Don't worry," she said with a smirk. "It's not for you."
She opened it.
Inside, a single syringe. Thin. Laced with a transparent blue fluid.
Min-Jun's jaw tightened. "What is that?"
"The last of my father's toxin. The refined one. Painless. Elegant. Untraceable."
She held it between two fingers. "I was saving it for you. But maybe I'll use it myself."
Min-Jun took a step forward. "Yeon-Hwa—"
"I was going to marry you, you know," she said, her voice hollow now. "Before you ruined everything. Before you killed him. Before you looked at her the way you were supposed to look at me."
Silence thickened between them.
"I loved you," she whispered. "I would've given you everything."
He exhaled, voice low. "And you destroyed everything."
She blinked. Then raised the syringe to her neck.
"Stop!" Min-Jun roared, raising his gun. "Don't."
"Why not?" she said bitterly. "Isn't this what you wanted?"
"Not like this."
He stepped forward again, lowering the weapon.
"Yeon-Hwa… you don't have to end like him."
She looked at him — eyes gleaming with tears that didn't fall.
Then her hand trembled.
Just enough.
---
Elsewhere – Seoul Safehouse – 12:04 a.m.
Seo-Ah
She paced in the hallway outside Dong-Hwan's room, clutching the flash drive she had found hidden in the lining of one of Yeon-Hwa's jackets — a jacket left behind in the warehouse raid.
Her gut told her it mattered.
Inside, Dong-Hwan plugged the drive into the system.
What they found made her blood run cold.
Video logs. Medical records. A secret lab.
Yeon-Hwa hadn't just inherited her father's empire.
She had rebuilt his experiments — human trials, toxin research, neurological weapons. But there was more.
One folder stood out: PROJECT KANG – SUBJECT: JIN-WOO.
Dong-Hwan clicked it.
The footage showed a younger Yeon-Hwa visiting her brother in the institution… but the doctors were taking his blood. His brain scans. He wasn't just a patient.
He was the key to the antidote.
Seo-Ah's heart stopped.
"Min-Jun doesn't know," she breathed. "Yeon-Hwa lied. Her brother… she didn't want him dead. She needed him alive to stabilize her formula."
Dong-Hwan's eyes narrowed. "Which means if she dies now—"
"The formula dies with her," Seo-Ah finished.
She grabbed her coat. "I have to go. I have to stop him."
---
Back at the Shrine – 12:08 a.m.
Yeon-Hwa still held the needle.
Min-Jun had lowered his gun completely.
"Yeon-Hwa," he said, voice raw, "you think you're alone. You think the world is only fire and revenge. But it's not. You had a choice."
"I had nothing," she whispered.
"That's not true."
He reached out, slowly.
"I loved you once," she said. "Do you know that?"
"Yes," he whispered.
She looked up at him, trembling now.
"You killed the only man I ever feared," she said.
"And you became him," Min-Jun replied.
Tears filled her eyes.
Then, just as her fingers closed around the plunger—
"Stop!"
A voice shattered the air.
Seo-Ah.
She ran up the stairs, breath ragged, waving the flash drive in her hand.
"I know the truth!" she shouted. "You don't want to die, Yeon-Hwa. You never did."
Yeon-Hwa froze.
Min-Jun turned, stunned.
Seo-Ah stepped forward. "You kept your brother alive because you needed him. You needed the cure."
Yeon-Hwa's hands shook.
"You're not trying to die. You're trying to buy time."
Yeon-Hwa's mask cracked. Her eyes flickered to Min-Jun, then back to Seo-Ah.
"You think you know me?" she whispered. "You don't know what it took—what it cost—to survive."
Seo-Ah's voice softened. "But you're still here. Which means some part of you still wants to live."
Silence.
Yeon-Hwa slowly lowered the syringe.
Min-Jun stepped forward and took it from her hand.
---
12:19 a.m. – End of the Line
They stood there — the three of them — surrounded by ghosts, old wounds, and ash.
Min-Jun turned to Dong-Hwan, who had arrived moments earlier.
"Take her in," he said quietly.
Yeon-Hwa didn't fight. She simply looked at Min-Jun one last time.
"You loved her more than you ever loved me."
He didn't deny it.
She nodded.
Then turned away as the cuffs were placed on her wrists.
---
Aftermath – 1:45 a.m.
Seo-Ah and Min-Jun sat on the stone steps, silence stretching between them.
"I thought you were going to die," she whispered.
"So did I," he said, touching her hand.
She leaned against his shoulder.
Above them, the cherry blossoms fell like silent snow.
---
Three Days Later – Seoul National Courtroom
Seo-Ah
The courtroom was packed.
Reporters lined the marble corridor. Cameras flashed like gunfire, clicking rapidly as though racing to capture history before it slipped through their fingers.
Inside, Yeon-Hwa sat shackled and silent. Her black suit was pressed, her makeup flawless, her expression unreadable. Like a queen on trial.
Seo-Ah sat behind the glass wall, among other witnesses, hands clenched in her lap.
Min-Jun was absent.
He refused to come.
He said he didn't need to see her face again to know that she had already lost.
The judge read the charges with steady breath:
"Illegal human experimentation, corporate espionage, murder, conspiracy, attempted assassination of state officials…"
The list went on.
The court gasped when the prosecution revealed the stolen government toxins, the hidden lab data, the testing done on children.
But not Yeon-Hwa. She never flinched.
Until they mentioned Jin-Woo.
The moment his name echoed in the courtroom, Seo-Ah saw it — the brief flicker in Yeon-Hwa's gaze. The shadow of regret. The echo of a sister.
---
Safehouse – Jin-Woo
Jin-Woo sat beneath a cherry tree, crayons in one hand, sketching the same drawing over and over: a girl with long black hair standing beside a broken mountain.
"She's sad," he told the nurse.
"Why?"
"Because the mountain she climbed was made of bones."
The nurse smiled sadly. "Do you want to see her again?"
Jin-Woo shook his head. "She was nice when we were little. But then she became someone else."
He picked up a yellow crayon and added a flower at the girl's feet.
"She left this behind," he whispered. "That's all I remember."
---
Min-Jun's Penthouse – Rooftop, 11:18 p.m.
Min-Jun
He stood barefoot on the rooftop, the wind whispering through his shirt. The city sprawled out below him like a map of mistakes.
He held a letter in his hand. The last one from Yeon-Hwa — delivered through her lawyer that morning.
It read only two lines:
"You were always right. I was never strong enough to be better than him."
"But I was strong enough to make you bleed."
He burned the letter without reading it a second time.
Seo-Ah stepped onto the rooftop quietly.
"You always come up here when you're trying to disappear," she said.
He didn't turn. "You found me anyway."
"I always will."
He looked over his shoulder.
She stood barefoot too, wearing one of his old button-down shirts, sleeves rolled to her elbows. Wind dancing in her hair.
For the first time in weeks, he let himself really look at her.
"You saved me," he said softly.
Seo-Ah shook her head. "We saved each other."
---
Flashback – That Night in the Hospital
She remembered the moment he collapsed — blood pouring from his side, whispering her name even as the world went dark.
And she remembered holding his hand on the stretcher, whispering promises she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep.
"Stay with me," she had begged. "Just one more fight. Just one more time."
And he had stayed.
Even when his world had been built on ash.
---
Present – Rooftop
Min-Jun stepped closer now.
"I don't know how to start over," he said honestly.
Seo-Ah took his hand. "Then don't."
He blinked.
"Don't start over," she said. "Just start… from here."
She pulled his hand to her heart.
From where it still beat.
Slow. Strong. Steady.
And suddenly, the world didn't feel quite so cold anymore.
---
The World Watches
The media erupted the next morning.
"Heiress Sentenced: Yeon-Hwa Lee Faces Life Without Parole"
"Jin-Woo's Condition Stable: Government Promises Protection"
"Min-Jun Lee Silent on Scandal, and taking a break"
But to those who mattered, the only thing important was that it was finally over.
---
A Week Later – Coast of Jeju Island
Seo-Ah
The sea air was warm and soft on her skin.
She stood barefoot on the beach, water lapping at her ankles, while Min-Jun sat behind her on the rocks with a thermos of hot tea and two mugs.
It had been his idea to come here. Quiet. Remote. No board meetings. No headlines.
Just peace.
She turned back to him, smiling. "You're brooding again."
"I'm always brooding."
She walked up and plopped beside him. "Well, at least do it with tea."
He poured her a cup and handed it over.
They sat in silence, the ocean breathing for them.
Finally, Seo-Ah said, "Do you think we'll be okay?"
Min-Jun looked at her. His eyes softer now. No longer guarded.
"I think we already are."
He leaned in and kissed her forehead.
"I've spent my whole life building things that couldn't last," he said. "But this… you… I want this to last."
Seo-Ah looked up, eyes glistening.
"Then stay," she whispered.
"I'm not going anywhere."
---
Later that night, they lay beneath a field of stars, the waves crashing in the distance. Their fingers intertwined.
And for the first time in a long time…
No one was chasing them.
No one was dying.
No one was lying.
Just two hearts that had made it through the fire.
Together.