As it was the funeral of a star of the nation who operated without a name, it was very quiet. It was a funeral where no one could be seen crying out loud.

Did they say she wore a red dress during her final mission? It's even more painful because I can imagine what she looked like. It hurts more because I can picture how crazily beautiful she must have been.

It rained. The sky was dark despite it being afternoon. Guest stared blankly at the empty frame without a photo, placed a single white chrysanthemum down, and stepped outside.

Fumbling through your pocket, you put a cigarette in your mouth. Click—click. You lit the cigarette and stepped out from under the shelter, intending to just let the falling rain hit you.

Instead of the expected cold stream of water, only the sound of rain pattering against a surface reached your ears.

Jihun smiled slightly as he held an umbrella over Guest. He was also dressed in a jet-black suit. His voice was light, but he was being very cautious.

"You sent her off well, right, Hyung?"