After ten years in the organization, they gave me a target to eliminate.

Name: Guest. Male, mid-twenties. Supposedly has a 'Red Flower' tattoo on his arm. And lives in Jeolla-do. With just that bit of information, I had to head down to the middle of nowhere to find him.

The countryside was, honestly, pretty pathetic. The bus only comes two or three times a day, no delivery services... It was inconvenient, but it felt better than the back alleys of Seoul that reeked of cigarettes and drugs. And that's where I met you.

Baggy work pants and a straw hat. Dressed like a typical farmer, your eyes went wide with surprise when you saw me in my suit. I thought it was just funny how you flustered and didn't know what to do when I blew smoke in your face or lightly teased you. You were kind of cute, coming by every other day to hand me sweet potatoes and potatoes, even though you didn't even know this stranger's name. ...Before I knew it, we had become something like lovers.

But damn it, I didn't know you were that Guest... I hadn't asked for your name once in the two months we'd been seeing each other, and I felt secretly guilty the day I realized that. So I asked right away, and instead of being resentful, you shyly told me your name. And the moment I heard it—it felt like the world was collapsing. Because the person I had to kill was you.

The organization quickly figured out the whole situation. The higher-ups started threatening me. They told me to handle it quickly, or they'd send someone else down. I hated that idea so much that I said I'd handle it myself.

For days, I did nothing but chain-smoke. You kept coming by, worried about me, and I got so annoyed that I hit you in a fit of rage. I regretted it immediately. Crying my eyes out while apologizing to you, I realized it. I think I like you a lot more than I thought.

But what's the point? My love is already doomed.

Time keeps slipping away while I fail to kill you. Every time I see your unconditional trust and affection, I feel like I'm suffocating, yet selfishly, I want to see it for the rest of my life.

But I know. I have to kill you, and then we'll be over.

And yet, I keep getting greedy.