Chapter 5
Korean citizenship.
Chairman Park’s words echoed in Sa-hee’s mind after the call ended.
“Korea… I’ll go. I must go.”
All she needed was the necklace. If she handed it to Chairman Park, her reward would be her lifelong dream: to become a citizen of her mother’s country, her father’s homeland.
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and went back into the bedroom.
From the bathroom came the sound of a hair dryer. The necklace lay carelessly on the vanity table.
Her trembling hands placed it into a wooden box. The lid clicked unevenly as she tried to close it.
At that moment, the hair dryer stopped.
“Nia?”
Chi-kyung, always sharp, sensed someone standing outside the bathroom.
Forcing her voice steady, Sa-hee answered,
“When are you coming out?”
“Soon.”
His voice was muffled through the door.
“Take your time. I’ll open the champagne.”
Even as she spoke to him, her hands wouldn’t leave the necklace box.
It was her dream, her future. But for Chi-kyung, it would only bring harm.
“I’ll do it instead,” Chi-kyung called.
“…Really? Then, okay.”
Sa-hee squeezed her eyes shut.
“Chi-kyung!”
“Yes?” His voice was warm from inside the bathroom.
“I love you.”
She meant it. She truly loved him with all her heart. She was happy to live as his wife.
“Very much…”
She placed the necklace box back neatly on the table and stepped away from it.
“Very, very much.”
Then she turned from the bathroom door.
Behind her, Chi-kyung came out, calling “Nia?”—but she didn’t look back.
Sa-hee rushed out of the bedroom, grabbed only her wallet and phone, and left the house.
Seven Years Ago
Back then, Sa-hee gave up her future, her dream, and even Chi-kyung for the sake of survival.
Her eyes burned as if set on fire. Pain pressed against her chest, and her throat tightened.
“I didn’t… I really didn’t.”
Why was Chi-kyung accusing her?
Why did he say the necklace in the Myung-sung Museum was fake, and that she had it?
She had given it up seven years ago. She had walked away.
Blinking back tears, her voice shook:
“Either way, I won’t take this job.”
It was absurd, suicidal.
“If you want to see me dead, fine—then give me this assignment.”
She coldly warned the two leaders of Vanishing and walked out of the office.
Sa-hee’s Past
Sa-hee was born and raised on the streets.
Her name meant “sand” (Sa) and “shine” (Hee)—because she was born in the desert.
Her mother was a soldier. Her father was a mercenary.
They met during an operation somewhere in the Middle East, fell in love, and she was born.
But her mother died before Sa-hee’s first birthday.
Her father, half-crazed with grief, carried little Sa-hee on his back while continuing mercenary work.
People urged him to go back to Korea, to register her birth, but he never did.
Then, when Sa-hee was five, her father also died.
Because neither parent had filed documents, she had no legal identity.
In Korea, nationality comes from blood, but without a birth certificate it meant nothing.
So Sa-hee became a stateless international orphan—known only by her name and her father’s family name.
It was Beom-gyu, who owed her father his life, that took her in.
He quit mercenary work—saying he couldn’t raise a girl in that harsh life—and with his girlfriend, Bella, raised Sa-hee.
Bella was a wealthy widow of an oil tycoon in Abu Dhabi. She adored Sa-hee and gave her every kind of education until she was 15:
languages (she became fluent in four), piano, ballet, and international manners.
When Beom-gyu and Bella eventually broke up, Bella begged him to leave Sa-hee with her. But Sa-hee chose to follow Beom-gyu.
Later, Beom-gyu began teaching her his new line of work.
“Ban Sa-hee. Are you sure you want this job? It’s dirty and dangerous.”
“But it pays well, right?”
“What would you do with the money?”
“I’ll go to Korea.”
From the very beginning, Sa-hee’s goal was Korea.
Her mother’s country, her father’s homeland. She wanted to live there as a citizen.
That’s why she left behind Bella’s wealth and followed Beom-gyu. He was her ticket to Korea.
“I’ll earn a lot and buy a house in Seoul.”
“Money alone won’t make you a citizen. You don’t even have nationality.”
“But your work is with powerful people. If I work hard, I’ll gain leverage, secrets, influence. Someone will give me citizenship.”
She understood the world’s shadows well.
So she worked fiercely, trained hard, and became skilled.
Her lack of an official identity became her strength—she could be anyone, with no trace left behind.
She specialized in long-term infiltration jobs.
She rose quickly, made a name for herself, and even though she stumbled once with the Necklace Heist Project, she recovered and achieved success.
She retired after her last project, finally moved to Korea, and it had already been two years.
She bought an old four-story building on the edge of Seongsu-dong—not fancy, but entirely hers, no bank loans.
Life had been peaceful. Exactly the life she had dreamed of.
From the top floor, she loved to drink coffee while looking down at the autumn park outside.
That quiet scenery was the reason she bought the building.
She renovated it, made it her nest. A perfect place for a fresh start.
Until Chi-kyung appeared.
Until the one person who must never find her—found her.
Her instincts told her to run.
But leaving behind this home she built with her own hands? The thought was painful.
Running was her specialty—like a lizard dropping its tail. Only Sa-hee left nothing behind. That’s why her company was called Vanishing.
Just then, the bell over the office door rang.
