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Whatever this mark is, I have to get rid of it.

Immediately.

Kelly and I get up to gather our things once we’re done at Unnie’s. She slings her purse back over her shoulder as she talks my ear off about some blind dateshe’sgoing on later tonight.

“See?” she says. “It’s not just you! I’m punishing myself too.”

I turn toward the glass doors of the café and then stop mid-step.

There he is. Right in front of me.

He’s standing across the street, still dressed in the same leather jacket, the same tattoos creeping up his neck. His hair’s in his eyes again, his lips in a tight, severe line like they were last night.

It’s him. It’s Jin.

I could pass out right now, the crippling anxiety choking me ’til I’m lightheaded.

Before I can decide what to do—if I’ll run for it or hide or beg like I did last night—a pair of delivery trucks roar by, blocking my view.

Once they pass, Jin is gone.

He’s nowhere else on the busy street, as if he simply evaporated like smoke.

“Monroe?” Kelly asks from my side. “You okay?”

I blink hard, realizing I’ve frozen in front of the café doors. I force a nod, then mutter something about needing to go.

Is it possible I’m now imagining him? Is he a figment of my imagination, or is Jin, the coldblooded murdering gang leader, really tracking me?

And is this what he meant when he said I had to outrun the mark he seared into my skin?

5.Jin

Monroe Ross leads a tediouslyboring life.

Not that I find it surprising. I took one look at her in the alleyway outside Club Gongshi and knew she was the model citizen.

She was the good girl prototype. A perfect, law-abiding goodie two shoes.

But it’s even worse than I thought.

Three days of observation confirm what I had already guessed about her in that alley: she doesn’t belong in this tough, cruel world.

I learn her habits and routines easily. All the necessary details about her.

She lives in a modest apartment in Seomyeon, known for its centralized location and urban feel. Her building is a concrete structure that’s been around longer than she’s been alive, with protruding windows and AC units attached to the wall.

You need an entry code to gain access… which is so easy to bypass, every resident in the buildingshouldbe concerned.

Monroe leaves each morning at 7:48 a.m. She dresses similarly, in long skirts and blouses. Sometimes a dress that’stasteful but conservative considering she works with school children. Her hair changes more unpredictably, some days her curls are accentuated by a headband, other days simply pulled into a big puff.

I notice one reoccurring theme among the three days—she wears a stack of bracelets on her left wrist. Most clashing with the rest of her outfit, but it’s as if she has no other choice.

She’s trying to hide the mark.

Little does she know, there is nowhere she can run that I can’t find her. Where she can escape the Baekho Pa’s influence.

I wait until she’s gone before I gain access to her place and install a few strategically positioned cameras for closer monitoring. Devices so small, they make coins look large. They’ll provide me a twenty-four hour feed of what goes on inside her apartment, both video and audio. No one is any wiser as I slip out of her apartment and stroll toward the elevator.