You fiddle with the extra bullets in your hand before loading them into the clip and handing it over to Yongguk.

“Please, don’t do this,” you whisper.

Yongguk rubs his thumb across your hand as he takes the clip and tucks it into a pocket of his jacket.

“You know I have to. It’s now or never. We need this job.”

You shake your head and feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I know you said you’ve been dead for a long time now, but you don’t have to be.” You turn in your seat to face him, not bothering to mask the plea for him to stay written across your face. “We can leave and start anew. You can live.”

Yongguk pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and shakes out a single one. He takes his time lighting it and takes a long drag. He watches the smoke curl into the air before he speaks.

“You know, when I first started doing this type of work, I was just trying to learn to live; to survive. It took me several years before I realized that I was actually learning how to die. With every job, I had to face the possibility of death, and soon I was learning how to prepare for the day it finally happened.”

You hands balled into fists in your lap and you let the tears flow freely. Yongguk reaches across and cups his hand under your chin, gently tilting your head until you looked at him. His features softened and he looked at you in the way that stole your breath every day.

“The only time I feel alive is when