Chapter 1: The Silence After the Storm

Hana stood on the balcony of her modest high-rise apartment in Busan, the morning breeze slipping under her shirt and carrying with it the faint scent of the sea. Below her, the city pulsed with life—scooters weaving through traffic, the clatter of shutters opening, students hurrying to school. It was a world far removed from the blood-soaked chaos she had lived in for more than a decade. A world she had fought for.

She was beautiful, but not in the glamorous, head-turning kind of way. Her face was striking only if you knew what to look for: the cold discipline in her dark eyes, the slight tension in her jaw, the quiet scars on her otherwise flawless skin. She stood 1.70 meters tall, her body honed from years of war—lean, toned muscle under soft cotton, strength hidden in the grace of her movements. Her frame was feminine, but efficient—C-cup breasts, taut stomach, and shoulders that knew the weight of rifles and fallen comrades alike.