Jin-woo emerged from the shadows in one fluid motion, placing the rolled paper into the man's outstretched hand. It was a brief moment of contact, but enough to feel the calloused, cool strength of the man's grip.
"Good. Follow my steps exactly. Don't think. Just copy."
The man turned and moved not toward the door or the window, but toward the back wall where the empty cabinets stood. He pushed one aside with the flat of his hand, revealing a false back panel. Not a door, but an old, disused ventilation shaft, its width barely enough for a man.
"In. On your stomach. Pull yourself forward. I'll be behind you."
The footsteps on the stairs were distinct now. Muffled voices, curt orders.
Jin-woo had no time to hesitate. He slid into the dark opening. It was narrow, dusty, and disgustingly damp inside. He heard the scrape of metal behind him—the man was replacing the cabinet, then slid into the shaft himself, pulling the panel almost shut behind them.
Complete darkness. Then the click of a small, powerful flashlight from the man, its beam narrow and focused.
"Keep going. Forward. No sound."
They crawled for what felt like an eternity in the cramped tunnel. From behind, they heard the main room door being thrown open violently, then the sound of boots entering.
"Fresh dust. They were just here."
"Search. Check every centimeter."
The voices of "The Collection" men were terrifyingly close, separated only by a thin wall and a cabinet. Jin-woo almost stopped breathing.
The older man placed a hand on Jin-woo's shoulder, a light pressure that meant "wait." He was listening.
After moments of tense silence in the room, they heard: "Nothing. Just a shell. They won't be back here."
Then, the sounds slowly retreated.
After two more minutes of absolute silence, the man whispered: "Keep going. The end is close."
A few meters later, the shaft ended at a rusty metal grate. The man pushed it open, and they found themselves in a small shed attached to the neighboring building, filled with old crates.
The man caught his breath, then turned off the flashlight. In the near-darkness, he said: "My name is Lee Min-ho. I was a member of the Society, before 'The Reservoir' consumed it."
He quickly unrolled the paper under the dim light of his phone. He studied the drawing and the symbol, murmuring: "A fragment from the archive of Choi Hae-sun. He disappeared six years ago. This confirms they took him."
Then he looked at Jin-woo. "Your ability. Kim told us a little. You don't copy at first sight. You need repetition. Hundreds of times."
Jin-woo froze. "How do you know?"
"Because 'Faulty Memory'... they aren't just people. They are a flaw in the system. A flaw that allows some to absorb patterns, but incompletely, defectively. They need an external archive to correct their errors. You... you are different. You are not flawed. You are complete. That makes you the most valuable, and the most dangerous thing in existence to them."
Min-ho's words hung in the cold air. Jin-woo wasn't a tool. He wasn't an archive. He was the key.
"What do you want from me?" Jin-woo asked, his voice hoarse.
"The two choices presented to you before still stand. We can protect you, train you, help you understand your ability. Not through torture, but through understanding. Or you can walk away now, and try to live knowing every eye in the shadows is hunting you. 'The Collection' will not stop. And 'The Guardian Memory'... we cannot protect you if you choose to stay in the open."
Min-ho pulled out a simple black card. "An address. A temporary safehouse. Encrypted. Go there if you decide to trust. You'll find basics: food, a bed, a secure internet connection for research. You have 24 hours to decide. After that, the place moves."
He handed the card to Jin-woo.
"Just one question, before you go," Jin-woo said, holding the card as if it had turned to ember. "Kim... was he 'Faulty Memory'?"
Min-ho smiled a sad smile. "He was more than that. He was Atoning Memory. He tried to correct the mistakes of the past. And you were his last chance."
He said no more. With a nod, he melted into the darkness outside the shed, leaving Jin-woo alone with the black card, the paper fragment now copied into his memory, and a decision that would split his life into before and after.