1996, Seoul.

 

 

It was a typical winter morning in the city. Snow decorated the streets and buildings, piles of pristine white colour painted in every place you step a foot in. Inside a quaint two-floor apartment, anyone would assume it was just an ordinary building where people would go in back and forth to their homes. But little did they know that it was actually a secret base of The Secret Service.

 

Known as the Seoul base, five young, tenacious female agents worked busily. Walking from corridor and turning into a room, they were in the midst of analyzing CCTV cameras, searching for a particular suspect. At the age of twenty-five, Taeyeon had already established quite a feat as a courageous, tacky leader. It had only been three years since she was appointed the heavy position, bearing all the responsibilities by herself, but she loved her job. She thrilled at the adrenaline when it came to planning sneaky strategies and battling up front.

 

“Hey, someone get the door!” She said, lounging on her couch, watching her member, Yuri tap onto the computer.

 

“On it!” Sunny stood up from her seat and peeked through the hole. She arched her eyebrows, as there was no one. But, the lady felt the need to open the door. To her surprise, there was an infant in a basket, wrapped warm in a white blanket. “Oh my god, what in the world?!”

 

“What’s happening Sunny?” Hyoyeon walked over to Sunny’s gasps, her eyes widened at the infant at the entrance. “A baby…?” She crouched down to pick up a small note left behind.

 

“Her name is Oh Hayoung. Please take care of her.”

 

Hyoyeon and Sunny exchanged a rather confused glance at each other, but decided to inform Taeyeon about this.

 

Immediately, the Seoul team held an emergency meeting. The sides were divided. It was between sending Hayoung to the orphanage or keeping her as their own. Arguments followed, each justifying their point. But the team knew that it was pointless to continue. They had other important missions to do.

 

“I’ll take her.” Hyoyeon insisted.

 

“Wait, are you serious, Hyo?!” Yuri gasped, surely surprised at her friend’s decision.

 

“I’ll raise this little girl to be one of us.” The lady smiled, cradling the infant in her arms.

 

"Do you understand what you're doing?" Taeyeon asked in a calm manner.

 

Hyoyeon nodded. "I will take all the responsibility for it, leader."

 

 

2002, Jeju Island

 

 

Sitting onto a small ledge as she watched the calm, blue ocean in front of her, the eight-year old closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the sea. The splashes of water, the whip of the cooling breeze, the quacks of seagulls—but the voices did not stop. She covered her ears, wishing that it would all stop.

 

A never-ending nightmare. Blood-stained fingers, a choking gasp and his warm smile, she remembered everything vividly in her head—the day she accidentally killed her own brother.

 

She was only five when that happened. As a child, she loved to paying visits to her father’s office. Sitting on his lap while he did the paperwork, little did Naeun know that they were important documents related to The Secret Service. She always commented how her father looked very handsome in a tuxedo suit. Her brother, Son Dongwoon who was 17 years older,was an agent as well.

 

Often, he would come in to report his missions and Naeun was more than happy to see her brother. She would jump into his warm arms as he responded with a wide smile. But those happy days were long gone.

 

“Daddy?”

 

Taking a peek inside his office, the room was empty. The young child walked around and jumped onto his seat, patiently waiting for him to return. But what caught her eyes, was a pistol placed onto the desk. Out of curiosity, she picked it up and carefully turned it around. To her, it was nothing but a mere, heavy toy.

 

“Naeun!” Dongwoon gasped, entering the room only to see his sister carelessly holding the pistol.

 

But it was too late to react.

 

The girl flinched at her brother’s shout and accidentally pulled the trigger.

 

Bang!

 

And then, a thud.

 

The pistol crashed to the floor, Naeun’s mouth opening wide as tears flowed down her cheeks. The sight horrified her, greatly. Red blood spewing out of her brother’s chest as he flinched helplessly on the floor.

 

“N-Naeun-ah…Ack!”

 

“B-Brother! I…I…”

 

“It’s okay Na-eun…Brother forgives you…” He winced, giving one last smile to his sister, before everything blackened out.

 

Although an accident, she was at fault. Naeun will carry that burden for the rest of her life, paying visits to her brother’s grave every year, bowing her head low Because of her mistake, she vowed to continue Dongwoon’s work.

 

A Secret Service agent.

 

At the age of eight, Naeun made big life-changing decisions and to her surprise, her father agreed.

 

And so, here she was at Jeju Island where the first day of her training starts today.

 

“Naeun!”

 

The child turned around to see her father, Mr. Son, along with a female agent, who was holding the hand of a younger child. The child was too occupied with a lollipop in but eyes quite attached to Naeun.

 

“Your daughter is so pretty, sir.” Sunny smiled warmly. "I'm sure she will do fine, especially since she has a friend to accompany her around." The lady bent down to the child beside her. "Hayoung, you're going to have a sister now."

 

“Take good care of her.” Mr. Son said, to which she nodded in response.

 

 

2010, Chungcheongbuk-do.

 

 

She hated everything about her family.

 

Nineteen-year old Park Chorong was sure that she was not going through a rebellious puberty stage. Here she is, catching her breath as she caught the last bus. Carrying her bags that were stuffed with all of her personal belongings that she treasured, she took a seat at the back and stared out into the window.

 

The sky was dark yet beautiful due to the presence of the silver moon. If only she gained all the attention just like that moon in the sky, perhaps life would be different. But Chorong shook her head, knowing that it will never happen. Not in that family of hers. Not in that family who only cared and prioritised her younger brother.

 

Under a patriarchal household, she was forced to adopt feminine hobbies, looks and behavior. She would be discriminated for wanting to wear long jeans, forced to cook for the family and never given a choice to do what she wanted in life.

 

“I said, I want to join the police force, father!”

 

“No! A girl like you should just marry another boy and have children! What good would you do to the family?!”

 

And so, she chose to rebel.

 

Ever since she met Solar, a classmate of hers, she showed her the example of a free, independent girl. And Chorong wanted to be like her too, a woman who stood up for her own rights and choices.

 

The rebellion started. Slowly.

 

With the support of Solar, Chorong secretly took up Hapkido lessons behind her father’s back. Then, small white lies to her mother that she was going to stay over at Solar’s house to study only to live her life like what a teen should, partying through the night with alcohol present.

 

But eventually, her father caught on. And Chorong will never forget that stinging slap he gave her. Every time she recalled those quick three seconds of how she was pushed to the floor, voices yelling at her and that she was a shame to the family. Oh, it angered the girl so much more. It was just utterly unfair. Total bull crap.

 

A few days after that unsettling ordeal, Chorong fled from home. Sneaking past the bedrooms where her parents snored away, she packed her bags and took the last bus to Seoul. But where would she start? Chorong only had enough money to last her at least a week. For sure, the girl would not turn to beg on the streets.

 

No, there was still one more way.

 

“Please! I promise to work really hard!” The girl pleaded, her eyes filled with anxiety as her hands were hanging onto the desk counter.

 

The police officer looked at her, a conflicted expression written over his face. He heaved a sigh, looking at the bags she brought along.

 

“Listen young girl, I understand your reasons but you can’t just enter the police school like that. We run through a strict process, we need your certificates and IDs and especially a consultation with your parents.”

 

“Sir- !”

 

“I’ll take her in.” The chief police officer exited out of his room, hearing the whole quarrel outside. Gently adjusting his cap, he breathed a sigh and stared at Chorong. His eyes carefully scanning the girl from top to toe. “What is your name, young girl?”

 

“Chorong. Park Chorong.”

 

“I like your determination. But no one comes in for free.” He said, crossing his arms. “I will give you a place in the academy but unlike the recruits there, you have to pay for your stay. You will have to work extra hard, shed buckets of sweat and barely catch a blink of sleep. It will be a rough road ahead and a girl like you, would barely make it alive.” The man tried to discourage her. But instead, Chorong’s eyes were overflowing with fire.

 

“I will do it at all costs!”

 

His eyebrows raised in interest. The man could see potential in her. Rarely would anyone come knocking into the police department, not to report of a crime but to beg on her knees, asking for a spot in the academy.

 

“Very well.” The man smiled, somewhat impressed at Chorong’s tenacity. “My name is Lee Byung Hyun.”

 

 

 

2011, Busan.

 

The crowd cheered in unison as the winner raised her fist high in the air. The lights were blinding her vision but she loved the energy, the atmosphere that simply fueled her excitement further.

 

An illegal gambling den where merchants would place their bet among wrestlers who would survive each round. In Busan, everyone knows her. She had so much raw power despite being so small. Every weekend night, people will shower all of their money into her, confident that she will keep winning.

 

And she definitely kept the word.

 

For eighteen-year old Jung Eunji, this was all she could do to survive. She came from a poor fishing family, often having to dig leftover scrapes or resort to the worst possible way, stealing. But ever since she was introduced into this business from a friend, Kang Seungyoon, she did not have to suffer anymore. Eunji would rather fight for her life than beg on the streets.

 

“Jung Eunji! Jung Eunji! Jung Eunji!”

 

The crowd chanted her name, the Busan girl smiling widely as she roared in victory. Her face covered in blood and bruises yet, she stood tall in the boxing ring.

 

“And the winner goes to, Jung Eunji!”

 

The MC announced as the bell dinged three times.

 

As she caught her breath and collapsed her body inside the resting room, Eunji would greet her master with a bow, often receiving compliments and an envelope of cash. But today, was different. Her boss entered with two other girls, strangely dressed in black suits.

 

“Oh, boss!” The girl smiled widely, casually shaking his hand. Her eyes shifting to the girls who seemed around her age. “You brought some guests?”

 

“Ah, yes. Eunji.” The man clasped his hands together. “I just had a wonderful talk with these two ladies and they have taken note of your talents. They paid me a lot of money and we came to a deal.”

 

The girl’s eyes flashed in fear. She has read this in newspapers before, how gambling bosses would sell off their chess pieces in exchange for a large sum of money. The fate of these fighters will end up in a harsh fate, either as slaves or something worse. Eunji didn’t want to leave this boxing ring business. No way.

 

She took a step back, arming herself as the two girls approached her slowly.

 

“W-Who are you?”

 

“Do not be scared, Jung Eunji. We are here to help you.”

 

“Yeah, and sell me off to another place that will treat me as a slave? No!”

 

“We are members of The Secret Service.” The girl sighed, taking out a badge and showing to her. “Jung Eunji, you have been specially recruited to join the team. So please, come along with us.”

 

“Secret Service?” She arched in eyebrows, looking closely at the badge with the name “Hong Yookyung” listed.

 

“That’s right. Life in The Secret Service will definitely be better than you staying in this boxing business. Will you take up the job?”

 

“Hmm…” The girl hummed, her eyes glancing at the other girl beside Yookyung who remained silent. She was real pretty. A gem like nowhere else. She read her badge, with the name “Son Naeun”. Eunji nodded her head, somewhat interested to where this takes her, especially with an interesting girl like her.

 

“Alright then. Where do I go?”

 

 

2012, Seoul.

 

 

She still wakes up in the middle of the night, memories of the attack still haunting her. In cold sweat as she gasped for air, seventeen-year old Kim Namjoo tried many ways to prevent this from occurring again. But it has been a traumatic childhood.

 

Namjoo remembers every single detail — masked men breaking into her house, loud gun shots bursting into the windows and the strong embrace of her father who died protecting her. She sought vengeance for his death, learning that her father was in fact a Secret Service agent and his enemies came to assassinate him. They had planned to wipe out her whole family but her father’s member, Tony Ahn came in time, only to save his sole daughter.

 

Since then, Tony Ahn replaced the father figure that Namjoo always dreamt of. He understood the girl’s decisions to follow into her father’s footsteps in search of his killer, but the man took note of her impressive talents in sharpshooting. The moment Tony taught Namjoo to wield a gun, the bullets will hit straight into the center, surprising the agent himself.

 

And so for years, Tony Ahn took Namjoo in as his adoptive daughter but also providing traning to prepare her entry into the police academy. But already at fifteen, Namjoo was already a cadet and the superiors were quite impressed.

 

“Wow, look at you. Not a single miss.” Tony chuckled, watching the target boards whirl from the spring as he took it out.

 

“Of course, it’s Kim Namjoo that you’re talking about.” Namjoo scoffed confidently, her shoulders up high.

 

“Well, I believe it is time Namjoo.” The man held onto her shoulders, somewhat not wanting to let her go. For the man, now retired, knew the horrors that await the girl. The Secret Service isn’t for everyone and many die early. “The superiors have already assigned you into a team. Congratulations, you are now a Secret Service agent just like your father. I’m sure he is proudly looking at you from the skies.”

 

“Wow! Really?! Oh my god! Yes!” Namjoo cheered, embracing Tony in her arms. “Thank you so much Uncle Tony! You’re really the best!”

 

“It’s nothing really.” Tony leaned back and warmly cupped her cheeks, wanting to take in one final look at his “daughter”. “You have been assigned to the Seoul department. You have to leave immediately and meet your members. Be sure to call back home often, okay?”

 

“I will!” Namjoo nodded.

 

As she packed her bags, the girl took one last look at her hostel room. She had spent so many restless days and nights at the academy, working hard. Finally, the dream is coming true. Clutching tightly onto the only photograph she had left of her father, her eyes flamed with determination.

 

Carefully, she stretched her hand and pressed the doorbell. Surprisingly, Namjoo had expected the Seoul headquarters to be a bit more glamourous. But it looked like an abandoned apartment block.

 

At last, the door creaked open.

 

“H-Hello! My name is Kim Namjoo! I’m the new recruit to the Seoul team. Nice to meet you!” The girl tried very hard not to stutter.

 

“Ah!” The lady in front of her smiled. “We have been waiting for you. Welcome, Namjoo, to The Secret Service. My name is Park Chorong and I am the leader.” She exchanged her handshake, leading the girl inside.

 

 

2018, Present Time.

 

 

Wearing an apron over as she looked at herself into the mirror, a sigh could only escape. Already at the age of twenty-five, Yoon Bomi wondered what she had been doing her whole life. Sure, she had quite the rebellious childhood.

 

Without her father around, she wanted to be a dutiful daughter to her mother who solely ran a supermarket by herself. It was hard work but thanks to all the lifting heavy crates and things, it was a sort of daily workout.

 

Bomi knew that the moment she went to school; she was going to flop. Mathematics, science, literature, it all bore her to death. She failed all of her exams and her mother insisted that it was better for her to not waste her money and help her in the supermarket. Bomi agreed and her teenage hood was spent like that.

 

During her free time, she would secretly pay a visit to the neighborhood fighting club and watch people practice and train. Her eyes would always sparkle in intrigue, amazed at how not just men but women could fight so well. She had no money to join as a member so Bomi captured everything through her eyes. At home, she would practice by herself. Remembering each step and moves by hand, she used her pillow as a practice dummy.

 

But what was the point of learning how to fight, if she couldn’t apply it?

 

Frustrated, here she was, working as a waitress in a quaint café. Truth to be told, she hated her job. She wanted to run away. But she forced herself to work, because she needed money to survive. Bomi didn’t want her mother to keep sending her allowances. At such an age, even she would feel shameful for having to rely on her money.

 

“Welcome!” The girl greeted as a young lady entered the café.

 

Bomi has seen all sorts of customers come in. Pretty, tall, handsome, muscular, but this customer had a different vibe from all of them.

 

Walking up to her as Bomi handed the lady a menu, little does she know that her life is about to change, for a whole hella adventure ahead.

 

 

~fin