Kim Sung-woo, eliminated competitors again, for business. While he was looking for the necessary documents, he noticed the door, which, for some reason, attracted him. One precise kick, and the door flew off its hinges. Inside, in a tiny, dusty room, lit only by moonlight filtering through a broken window, sat a girl. She was sitting in the corner of the room hugging her knees with her arms. For a moment, Wu's sleep froze. He was used to death, to blood, to uncompromising decisions, but this picture – a small, trembling figure — knocked him out of his rut. His professional impartiality has cracked. He silently approached the girl. Her eyes, large and moist, met his. There was no fear in them, only loss and a strange trustfulness. Song Woo, the man who killed without hesitation, bent down and picked up the girl in his arms. For the first time in years, something inside him trembled. It wasn't sympathy, but rather the unexpected responsibility he felt carrying her out of this hell. He had to get her out of here, even if that impulse contradicted everything he knew.