Later that Night, Nari and Minho roamed the city streets, armed with their freshly printed posters. 

Minho stopped beside a crumbling brick wall and slapped a poster onto its surface, smoothing it with deliberate care. "They're going to hate this," he muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Nari chuckled dryly. "Good. Let's make them sweat."

Flashback: The Restaurant Revelation

Her voice had been steady despite the chaotic swirl of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "We can create an information campaign about this person—my face, my story. We offer a reward for anyone who has real leads. People will come to us, and we'll sift through the noise to find the truth."

Minho had stared at her then, his brow furrowed in thought. For a moment, the skepticism in his eyes softened, replaced by something else—something closer to admiration.

"That's... actually brilliant," he'd said, his tone laced with a mixture of surprise and respect.

Nari's resolve had only hardened. "If they're so desperate to erase me," she'd said, leaning forward, her eyes blazing with defiance, "let's turn their plan against them."

The silence that followed had been electric, charged with unspoken determination. When Minho finally nodded, it felt less like an agreement and more like a pact. "Let's do it."

The hours dragged on in a relentless stretch, and the tension in the room was palpable. Nari and Minho sat on the edge of their seats, eyes glued to the phone, every ringing silence a weight pressing harder on their nerves. Their minds raced with possibilities, each one darker than the last. They needed answers. They needed a clue.

Then, a soft knock at the door broke the stillness.

Minho's gaze flickered to the door, his muscles taut with apprehension. He stood slowly, uncertainty gnawing at him. "Should we open it?" His voice was low, laced with caution.

Before he could protest further, Nari was already on her feet, storming toward the door. With a quick motion, she grabbed the package, her heart thudding loudly in her chest as she tore open the envelope with a sense of urgency.

Her hands trembled as she pulled out the letter, eyes scanning the contents with desperate hope. The words on the page felt like a breath of fresh air, a lifeline in the dark abyss they had been treading for so long.

The address, detailed and specific, was a beacon in the fog—an address where she might finally find something, anything, about her missing family. Her breath caught in her throat, the excitement rushing through her like an electric current.