What could you possibly say to someone who smiles while walking toward death?

Eight years ago, Jeong Bin had done nothing as the young man entered the West Sea Rift. He hadn’t stopped him, hadn’t said a single honest word, hadn’t even reported it to superiors. Would his conscience feel lighter now if he’d at least spoken up, told someone not to send him?

The last eight years had been a cycle of endless regret.

The young man had been so clearly, painfully young. Anyone could’ve seen it. But they all looked the other way, exploited his good intentions and naïveté—and in the end, they pushed him straight to his death.

But now, J had returned. He was standing here before Jeong Bin again, stronger than before. And once again… he was preparing to leave.

Jeong Bin asked, his face stripped of all smile.

“Is this choice being forced on you?”