[AFYC] Chapter 10
Everything about her, from head to toe, was shrouded in mystery. The employee couldn’t help but wonder about her true identity as he continued to scrutinise her. She was an enigma, a puzzle that didn’t quite fit the surroundings of Felphe Bank. Something about her manner, her choice of clothing, and even how she carried herself were slightly out of place, as if she belonged entirely to another world. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, a palpable sense of unease settling over them both. He felt a peculiar sense of anticipation as he carefully unfolded the identification document, she had handed him. His fingers trembled slightly, whether from nerves or some deeper instinct, he couldn’t say.
The moment he opened the document, the professional smile that had been so firmly plastered on his face vanished, evaporating as though it had never existed. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. He blinked in disbelief, first at the document, then at Seo Ah, and then back at the document again, his mind struggling to reconcile what he was seeing with what he knew to be possible. When he finally looked at her, his eyes were wide with confusion and uncertainty. She met his gaze with the nervous, wide-eyed look of a rabbit cornered by a predator, her every instinct telling her to run but knowing there was nowhere to go.
“Is there a problem?” Seo Ah asked, her voice a fragile thread of sound in the oppressive silence.
“Uh… well…” The employee’s words trailed off, his usual confidence evaporating as he stared at the document in his hands. There was indeed a problem, but he found it difficult to articulate. He had never encountered a situation like this in all his years working on the Norfolk continent. His mouth opened and closed as he struggled to find the right words, but nothing seemed adequate to express the issue’s magnitude.
With pursed lips, he stared at the document once more, hoping that the simple act of looking at it would somehow solve the problem. But of course, just staring at it wouldn’t change anything. The problem was that he couldn’t read a single word on the document Seo Ah had handed over. The letters were foreign, unfamiliar, and utterly unintelligible to him. It was as though she had presented him with a text written in a forgotten language, something that didn’t belong in this time or place.
Seo Ah, sensing the employee’s growing discomfort, thought back to the moment she had been pushed into the carriage. That moment had felt like a turning point, the first of several missed opportunities. She should have asked the coachman to take her to an inn instead of the bank. She should have rested for a night, given herself time to adjust, and then come to the bank fresh and prepared first thing in the morning. But the urgency of her mission had driven her to the bank without pause, and now, she was beginning to regret that decision.
Her identification document was placed on hold, and its contents were a mystery to the staff. The employee had spent a long time scrutinising the document from every possible angle, his frustration growing with each passing moment. Eventually, he summoned a few colleagues, their faces reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern as they gathered around the document like sparrows around a crumb. Their heads bent together, puzzled over the strange characters, even holding the document up to the light as if it might reveal some hidden truth.
Seo Ah watched in disbelief, her heart sinking as the realisation dawned that none of them could read the document. One of the employees finally broke the silence, asking, “Which country issued this document?”
If getting into the carriage was her first missed opportunity, the second and final one came when she was asked that question. Although the country’s name was written clearly at the top of the document, they still asked her as if the letters were invisible.
“Dankook,” she replied, her voice steady despite her growing sense of dread.
“...Dan-kook?” the employee repeated, the unfamiliar syllables rolling awkwardly off his tongue.
“Dan, Kook,” she enunciated carefully, hoping to make it easier for him to understand.
“Da-an-kook?” He tried again, a frown creasing his brow as he struggled with the pronunciation.
“Dan. Kook.” Her patience was beginning to wear thin, and the conversation was starting to feel like an exercise in futility.
“Dee-an-kook?” he ventured once more, clearly lost.
“…Yes, that seems correct,” Seo Ah finally conceded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. The words felt like a surrender, an acknowledgement that this exchange was going nowhere. Instead of engaging in such meaningless exchanges, she should have directly asked if they were unable to read the text. She should have offered to let them copy it and then find someone who could translate and verify it. She should have insisted on receiving her keyholder verification certificate and left immediately. But like a fool, she hesitated and didn’t speak up at the right moment, allowing the day to slip away completely.
In her defence, the VIP reception room didn’t have windows, so she hadn’t noticed how much time had passed. The artificial lighting, carefully designed to create a sense of calm and luxury, only added to her disorientation. After what felt like an endlessly long debate, it was concluded that the document could not be translated at that moment. With an air of reluctance, the employee and his colleagues finally moved on to the next step. After a lengthy process of copying down the details of her identification document, the employee drafted the necessary paperwork, confirming her as the legitimate keyholder.
Seo Ah watched the process with a growing sense of detachment, her thoughts drifting as the minutes ticked by. The weight of her journey, the long hours of travel, and the uncertainty of her situation seemed to press down on her immediately. By the time the employee handed her the completed certificate, her hands were trembling slightly, though whether from exhaustion or something deeper, she couldn’t tell.
The moment she took the certificate from the employee, a strange, eerie presence washed over her, sending a chill down her spine.
“...?” Seo Ah’s body tensed, her muscles tightening instinctively. The room, which had felt too warm just moments before, suddenly seemed colder, the air thick with an inexplicable sense of foreboding. She held her breath, her skin prickling with the sensation of something dangerous lurking just out of sight.
The sense of dread was emanating from beyond the door through which the employee had been coming and going. It wasn’t just her imagination or a simple mistake. Every hair on her body stood on end, her instincts screaming at her to be on guard. This wasn’t the presence of an ordinary person. The sound of footsteps, deliberately muted as if by someone trained to move without making a sound, came from the other side of the door.
One person? No, there were two.
Step, step, step, step.
Seo Ah held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly she feared it might give her away. She hoped against hope that whatever was out there would pass by it wouldn’t come any closer. Like a prey animal hiding from a predator, she willed herself to remain still, to become invisible.
Please, go away. Please.
But the footsteps, still carefully muffled, came to a stop right outside the room. The silence that followed was deafening, every second stretching into an eternity. Then, the footsteps drew closer to the door, and she felt a presence just beyond it as if someone were pressing an ear against the wood, listening.
Her heart pounded so loudly it felt as if it might burst, the sound filling her ears, drowning out everything else. And then it happened.
A slow, deliberate knock broke through the tense silence.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
Seo Ah looked up immediately, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes locked onto the green-eyed employee across from her, his gaze unreadable. But something in his expression made her blood run cold, a flicker of something that shouldn’t have been there.
“...!”
The employee, who had clearly been observing her closely, smiled as if he had been waiting for this moment. The smile was different now; it was more predatory and more knowing. He glanced briefly over his shoulder at the door before rising from his seat with a smooth, practised motion.
“My apologies,” he said, his voice still carrying that infuriatingly calm tone. “I’ll be back shortly, so please wait here. Since it’s late, I’ll arrange for a carriage to take you back.”
“...”
Seo Ah nodded in response, unable to find her voice. Her throat felt tight as if the words were stuck, unable to escape.
Stay calm. Stay calm.
She repeated the mantra in her head, willing herself to remain composed. But it was a battle she was rapidly losing. Every instinct was screaming at her to flee from this place and never look back. But she couldn’t. Not yet.
Seo Ah silently watched the employee move, suppressing the urge to bolt from her seat. Each step he took seemed to echo in her ears, the sound amplified by her fear. As he walked over to the staff door and finally opened it, she couldn’t help but squeeze her eyes shut tightly, bracing herself for whatever was about to happen.
