The atmosphere in the bathroom was thick with tension. The sound of footsteps outside, the occasional muffled voices of guards—it was all a reminder that danger could strike at any moment. But in that moment, the only thing that mattered was the task at hand.

Sae-Byeok was crouched next to the vent, her sharp eyes focused on the screws as she twisted them with methodical precision. She worked quickly, silently—every move calculated. She knew time was limited, and every second brought more risk. The knife in her hand glinted in the dim light, the only tool she had for this mission.

Meanwhile, you were in the stall, your heart pounding as you listened for any sign that a guard might be approaching. You had to create a distraction—something to keep them away from the door for a little longer. The tension between you and Sae-Byeok wasn’t lost on you, but right now, there was no room for hesitation. You could only trust each other in moments like this.

You shifted in your stall, deliberately making noise, scraping your feet against the floor to ensure the guard outside noticed. The sounds you made were loud, clumsy—a calculated chaos to divert attention from Sae-Byeok’s quiet work.

Through the gaps in the stall, you could see her, her gaze flicking between the knife and the vent. The soft click of the screws loosening was barely audible, drowned out by the noise you were causing. Every movement she made was deliberate, every action smooth, as if this was second nature to her.

You held your breath, praying that your distraction would be enough, that Sae-Byeok would finish her job before the guard decided to investigate. It wasn’t just a race against time—it was a battle for survival. Every second you wasted was a risk, but somehow, you knew Sae-Byeok wouldn’t fail. She never did.

Finally, with a quiet hiss, the vent cover came loose. Sae-Byeok didn’t even look at you as she slid it to the side, a small, satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. She didn’t need to say anything. All you had to do was watch her back now.