GNT 4

Episode 4

A murmur of unfamiliar voices, the clatter of a pen hitting the floor, the crisp tap of hard-soled shoes—sounds filled the air from all directions.

As the noises sharpened, Yeon-woo’s eyelids fluttered open. Still dazed with sleep, she blinked a few times in confusion.

‘Where… am I?’

Staring blankly at the gray ceiling, Yeon-woo shot up as the approaching footsteps grew louder. Then, an unfamiliar voice spoke from nearby.

“Finally awake, I see.”
“Ugh…”

Her whole body ached as if she’d been beaten. But realizing she was lying in a police station made her forget the pain. Had the man speaking not been wearing a police uniform, she might’ve screamed.

“Why… why am I here?”
“Guess your memory’s wiped clean. You were completely out cold. You really need to watch your drinking. Lucky you passed out on the subway—if you’d fallen asleep outside in this cold, it could’ve been serious.”

The officer, leaning on his desk, straightened some papers as he scolded her lightly. Around them, everyone else was too busy with their own tasks to notice her.

Yeon-woo forced her unsteady legs to move and stood from the chair she’d been lying on. Something dropped from near her head—she caught it reflexively.

It was a pair of half-torn pants.

“Pants?”

Not hers. She asked if the police had perhaps covered her with them, but the officer replied that she’d already been wearing them—over her head—when she was brought in from the subway.

“I’m… really sorry.”

Yeon-woo, who usually avoided drinking to the point of losing her senses, was mortified. Not only had she gotten blackout drunk, but she’d also been hauled to the police station as a public drunk and slept there soundly.

“When we checked your ID for an emergency contact, we saw you weren’t registered under any faction. You’re really lucky, you know.”

At the officer’s meaningful tone, a chill crept up Yeon-woo’s spine. With dread, she reached up to touch her head—then near her tailbone. Unfortunately, her fingers brushed against something soft and furry.

“Uup!”

Panicking, Yeon-woo yanked the torn pants over her head.

“Uh… miss?”

The officers gave her odd looks as she flailed.

“I-I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. You can go now—just be careful next time.”

There was a reason for the officer’s concern. If a beastkin fell asleep outdoors with ears and tail exposed, they could easily wake up in a trafficking den—or worse. A fox beastkin, especially, drew too much attention. Waking up safe in a police station was indeed a stroke of fortune.

‘Lucky, me?’

It was the first time in her life someone had called her that. The absurdity almost made her laugh.

“Ugh.”

Her waist ached, probably from falling the night before, and her thighs stung oddly too.

She apologized again and left, wearing her coat over her head and clutching the torn pants tightly. They were her only clue to what had happened the previous night.

“I remember running away and hiding in the restroom… and then nothing.”

Her last clear memory was shaking off some assistant director named Jungman—or something—and locking herself in a bathroom stall.

“No way I went shopping drunk.”

She called the number in her missed calls list. This time, the person picked up right away.

“Hyun-min.”

Her voice trembled slightly as she called his name. He sounded groggy, apologetic.

“Hey… sorry about last night. You met the Blue Rim guys, right? I don’t even remember texting you.”
“Blue Rim?”
“Yeah—Blue Rim Media. The freelance filming team. Director Kim Noyoung said he ran into you last night.”

Ah, right. Blue Rim Media. That was the team Kim Noyoung and his colleagues were part of—the people who had helped her yesterday.

“Yeah, that’s right. I just happened to meet them… Hope that didn’t cause you trouble?”
“Why, did something happen?”
“No, it’s just… felt like a private gathering. I wasn’t sure if I should’ve been there.”

Yeon-woo subtly probed him, but it seemed Hyeon-min knew nothing.

“Nah, it’s fine. Everyone brought friends along.”

Relieved, she exhaled quietly.

“Probably Director Kim or Cameraman Jung invited you. They like to play host. But seriously, when did I message you? I don’t remember a thing. Are you sure nothing weird happened?”

Yeon-woo hesitated.

“Why? Did something happen?”
“N-no. Nothing. You got home okay?”

She quickly steered the conversation away. Hyun-min was perceptive—if she lingered, she might end up spilling everything, including the torn pants still clutched in her hand.

“Yeah, I crashed at the studio dorm. Don’t worry. Still, sorry about last night.”

His tone was casual, unaware.

“I’m flying out for a story on Wednesday. Let’s meet before that.”
“We can just meet after you’re back.”
“It’ll take a few weeks. Your birthday’s coming up, remember?”

Hyun-min always remembered her birthday.

“Okay. I’ve got time the day after tomorrow. I’ll come by your office—it’s near my evening gig anyway.”
“You’re going to Madam Sun-hee’s for dinner, right? Great! Dinner’s on me.”

After a few more apologies, he hung up.
Yet Yeon-woo’s gaze stayed on the pants in her hand.

“Then whose pants are these?”

Turning them over, she noticed faint stains and an unfamiliar English word on the inside label. When she looked it up, her face paled. The search results flooded with words like “luxury,” “high-end,” and “exclusive brand.”

“Don’t tell me I stole these…”

She glanced nervously toward the police station behind her and hurried home to her rooftop apartment.

Strangely, every crosswalk light turned green just as she arrived.

Once, twice—it could’ve been coincidence. But after five or more perfect timings in a row, she couldn’t ignore it.

The bus she needed arrived exactly on time. She didn’t trip, didn’t splash through any puddles, didn’t drop a single thing. What usually took her over an hour took barely thirty minutes.

“You’re lucky today,” the officer had said.

Yeon-woo’s earlier smile faded as the phrase echoed again in her mind.

“What… is this?”

To anyone else, it would’ve been a small streak of good fortune. But to Yeon-woo—who had known nothing but bad luck—it was terrifying.

Climbing the narrow stairs to her rooftop home without incident felt more ominous than relieving. Her life’s misfortune suddenly reversing made her skin crawl.

Once inside, her body began to heat up. Maybe the cold she’d been fighting since yesterday was worsening.

She dragged herself to the bathroom, stripping off her clothes like they were heavy weights—and froze at her reflection in the small mirror.

“What… is that?”

Sure, she was used to bruises and small scars from being clumsy. But this—

“Did I… fall drunk?”

The marks were too odd to dismiss. Red, uneven welts streaked across her skin, some rubbed raw as if something—or someone—had pressed hard against her.

Speechless, Yeon-woo glanced from the mysterious, stained pants folded neatly by the door… to the mottled red traces across her body.

“Ha… stop it!”
“Shh… it’s okay. I’ll be gentle…”

A man’s low whisper brushed against her ears—or maybe it was just in her head.

The voice that soothed her in that memory—was unmistakably her own.