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Young-Joon packed his bags early in the morning. It was still dark outside. It was time to leave the medical center in Kukra Hill.
He walked out of his room and into the hallway, and Kim Chul-Kwon, the head of his security team, and his bodyguards were waiting for him.
“Let’s go,” Kim Chul-Kwon said.
“It might be dangerous when we go to the United States now. There’s a powerful person targeting me. Do you think you’ll be okay?” Young-Joon asked.
“I sometimes feel like I’m going to die when I’m with you, but I’m used to it now. Don’t worry,” Kim Chul-Kwon replied with a smile. “After all, I’m the one who kept you safe in China, right?”
Kim Chul-Kwon tapped Young-Joon on the shoulder. There was something reassuring about his strong, muscular arm.
“Thank you,” Young-Joon said. “Let’s leave quietly so that we don’t wake the patients.”
Young-Joon walked down the hallway, protected by his security team. All but two fluorescent lights were off, and it was deserted. The quiet, chilly early morning air surrounded them.
Young-Joon went down the stairs at the end of the hall and walked out the door. He was now on the first floor of the ward. It was where the administration front desk was, where the patients waited, and where the festival...
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