I dragged myself back to Room 205, legs threatening to buckle with every step.
The hallway stretched endlessly. Each door looked identical—neutral paint, numbered plaques, and camera lenses glinting red above the frames.
Watching. Always watching.
I needed rest. Just five minutes before the night session started. Time to top up suppressants and patches before exhaustion bleeds through my defenses again.
The door finally appeared. I fumbled with the handle.
It clicked open.
I slipped inside and shut it behind me, pressing my spine against the cool surface.
The room was empty. Doyun must have gone straight to practice.
Good.
I couldn't let him see me like this.
My legs gave out.
I slid down the door until I hit the floor, knees folding awkwardly beneath me. My hands trembled violently now—adrenaline crash mixing with withdrawal symptoms.
The bathroom. I needed the bathroom.
