The four men stay frozen in place, mid-motion. Their eyes fixate on the woman standing at the threshold—A-RA. Her stiletto heels anchor her with effortless command, each inch of her posture screaming control.

Then—
She exhales. Slow. Controlled. Like the calm before a calculated detonation.

And in a tone that slices clean through the tension,she goes,
"Hi boys. Let’s skip the fake pleasantries. As you’ve no doubt heard, I’m your new tactical trainer… and I’ve heard plenty about you."

She steps into the room with the poise of someone walking into enemy territory—and loving it. Her eyes sweep over the squad, assessing, unflinching.

She nods at DO-YUN,
"DO-YUN… the leader. The glue holding this mess together. The 'adult in the room'—and, apparently, the only reason any of you still have jobs."

Her gaze cuts to YU-JUN, leaning against the locker, arms crossed tight.

"YU-JUN… the angry, volatile hothead. A walking do not push button. I’ll admit—I’m a little tempted to push it. Just to see if it still sets off the alarms."

A pause. She shifts to HA-JOON, eyes narrowing with a smirk.

 HA-JOON, who’s now attempting to act casual while still tangled in bootlaces.
"HA-JOON… the baby of the group. Master of mischief. The main reason you’re on your seventh tactical trainer in three months. Consider me your new apprentice—here to learn your dark arts firsthand."

Lastly, her eyes land on MIN-JUN, her tone dipping into dry amusement.

 “And MIN-JUN…... the team’s resident womanizer-the human equivalent of a vending machine-once in a while you have to resist the urge to shake him...or kick him."

The four exchange side-eyes, clearly unprepared for the verbal ambush.

But A-RA keeps her cool, pacing slowly as if the room—and everyone in it— belong to her.
“I’m A-RA. But let’s be honest—by now, you’re already workshopping nicknames behind my back.”
she grins, unapologetic
“Go ahead. Call me whatever brilliant name you land on. Even to my face. I’ll answer… I admire creativity.”

MIN-JUN starts to walk toward her, slow and smug.

A-RA rolling her eyes goes
“Oh perfect. Here comes the womanizer—strutting over like it’s opening night for Magic Mike.
Really, dude? I’ve been giving this speech for ten minutes.
The least you could’ve done was throw on a shirt… or a napkin… or a sense of shame.”

MIN-JUN smirks, clearly unbothered—maybe even enjoying the performance. He inches closer, eyes locked on her, trying to unnerve her with every slow step and with a low voice smooth, teasing,

“I just came over for a closer look at those hands…
From across the room, they looked more like they were built for holding a teacup—
Not a firearm.”

The room stills.

A beat.

No change in A-RA’s face. No blink. No smile.
Just movement.

She closes the space, slow and sure, until the pointed tip of her stiletto brushes the front of his boot.
She leans in—not flinching, not playing.

Her voice drops low, soft—but wrapped in steel.

A-RA in almost a whisper responds
“Okay… but why are you whispering in my ear like we’re in a low-budget rom-com?
You tickled me. I had to bite my tongue just to keep from bursting out laughing.”

MIN-JUN stares, blinking. His smirk twitches.Words fail. His mouth opens… then closes again.

He clears his throat—visibly short-circuited.

The boys in the background try very hard not to laugh.

A-RA still locked in, deadpan cool,continues
“You know those memories that haunt you at 3AM while you’re just lying there—
staring at the ceiling, rethinking all your life choices?
Yeah… this is gonna be one of those.”

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing slightly—like she’s about to deliver a punchline.

“Also… a half-naked man asking me about a gun?
Makes me wonder—are we talking gun...
or ‘gun’?”

MIN-JUN recoils instantly, like her words physically slap him in the face.
His posture stiffens. His eyes widen.
He stumbles back, flustered, color blooming across his face like a crime scene.

A-RA casually, with a flick of her wrist continues
“Alright, now strut back like you own the place.
Chin up. Shoulders back. Confidence oozing—like you just gave a TED Talk titled,
‘How to Whisper Awkwardly and Survive.’
Own that embarrassment—like it’s a limited edition designer bag.
Flaunt it.”

She pivots on her heel, finally turning to the rest of the group with a slow, knowing smile.

“Now boys, about our little chat—
Let’s be honest. I did 99% of the talking… but hey, I had a lovely time monologuing at you.
Therapeutic, really.”

She glides toward the door, heels clicking like punctuation.

she turns her head just enough
“If you’ve got any more questions, I’ll be in my office.
And if you’re planning to ask me about your guns—please, bring it in your hand.
Clarity saves lives.
Oh, and don’t forget—post-op debrief in ten. Tick tock.”

She exits with unshakable confidence, leaving only the sharp echo of her heels…
and the stunned silence of four grown men completely outplayed.

The door hisses shut.

HA-JOON snorts, barely holding back laughter
“Well... that went surprisingly well.
We’re all in for a wild ride—
but Mr. Strut over there…”

He doubles over, laughing.

MIN-JUN still buttoning his shirt, attempting cool
“It’s her first day. Of course she had to make an impression…”

DO-YUN closes his locker, walks past him and goes
“Yeah, and it looks like she made a lasting one… on you.”

YU-JUN joining DO-YUN, 
“And you just know you’ll be replaying that moment at 3AM…
lying there, eyes wide open, wondering why you didn’t come up with a better comeback.”

The next day the teams are assembled  at the  shooting range. The air is thick with focus.
YU-JUN, HA-JOON, MIN-JUN, and DO-YUN stand at the ready, fully geared, guns in hand, eyes forward. Their breaths are steady, movements sharp.

Off to the side, BAEK-HYUN leans against the wall, arms crossed and grinning to himself like a proud stage mom.

Suddenly—
click. click. click.The unmistakable rhythm of heels cuts through the air like a countdown. Heads start to turn.

A-RA walks in, unfazed and radiant. Her tailored black pant suit hugs every sharp angle with precision, gold heels gleaming like punctuation marks with every step. In one hand? A cup of coffee. The other? Tucked casually in her pocket. Unbothered. Untouchable.

YU-JUN freezes mid-step, eyes wide. He stumbles slightly before catching himself, clearing his throat and turning away like nothing happened—face now the same shade as the red target bullseyes.

BAEK-HYUN watches the entire thing with a raised brow, a slow, sarcastic smile spreading across his face as he goes,

"Of course you're late… And those slow, dramatic heel clicks? Chef’s kiss. Seriously, I should talk to management—get you a theme song next time. Maybe an orchestra in the back.”

A-RA  not missing a beat responds,
"I did it on purpose. Wanted to give you a mini heart attack—thought I bailed, didn’t you?"
She extends the coffee toward him with a sly grin.
"Here. Caffeine. My peace offering for the trauma."

HA-JOON side-eyes MIN-JUN, catching the way he’s gone unusually quiet—too quiet. A sly grin spreads across his face. He leans in, voice dropping to a whisper like a devil on his shoulder.

“Your shot at redemption, Mr. Teacup Hands. She’s laser-locked on you."

MIN-JUN muttering, exasperated
“Seriously. stop”

The rest of the team snickers, poorly hiding their amusement behind coughs and fake stretches. Even DO-YUN’s lips twitch.

As they settle in for the session, checking their stances and loading mags, BAEK-HYUN steps closer to A-RA. He keeps his voice low, but the smirk on his face is full-volume.

“You know… your file? Doesn’t mention your marksmanship. My boys? they’re itching to flex their shooting skills.”

He gives a long, dramatic sigh, like he’s watching lambs march into a lion’s den and continues

“Just… go easy on them, yeah?”

A-RA turns to him slowly, eyes narrowed
“‘Go easy’?”
She raises an eyebrow.
“You don’t hire a hurricane, then ask for light rain.”

She pauses, eyes locked on the targets ahead and continues
“I’ll be subtle. Maybe even gentle…”
Then she glances at him sideways with a wicked glint.
“But I don’t make promises I’m tempted to break.”

 BAEK-HYUN steps back with mock surrender

“Alright, alright… I’ll take subtle. Oh look—your fans are calling. Seems like they’re ready to show off.”

A-RA smirking, strides forward like a runway is laid out for her
“Alright, boys—listen up.”
She pauses, eyes scanning them like a general surveying her troops.
“It’s showtime. Let’s see if you actually know how to use those guns. And hey—try not to embarrass yourselves, yeah?”

HA-JOON glances over at MIN-JUN with a grin that says this is gonna be fun. They all line up, rifles ready.

The first volley of shots rings out—some clean hits, some close-but-wobbly. The room fills with the sharp scent of gunpowder and the sound of ricochets echoing through the range.

A-RA continues nodding, unimpressed
“Not bad. But not impressive either. Increase the distance.”

The boys exchange wary glances. YU-JUN raises his brows. DO-YUN adjusts his grip. But no one protests. They reload. Re-aim. Fire again.

The shots land—but shakier now. Less confidence. Less swagger.

A-RA this time stern, sharp as a blade
“Increase.”

That one word slices through the tension like a knife.

This time, there's hesitation. A beat of uncertainty. HA-JOON chuckles under his breath, nerves creeping in. MIN-JUN rubs the back of his neck. DO-YUN exhales slowly, like prepping for war.

A-RA now cold and crisp
“No way your shots are this shaky already. We’ve barely started. This is warm-up territory, and you’re out here gripping your rifles like jackhammers.”
She steps forward slightly. “I’m trying to establish a baseline, not host a pity party.”

They fire again. Miss. Miss. Miss.

The silence afterward is deafening—frustration thick in the air. YU-JUN mutters something under his breath. HA-JOON swears. DO-YUN clenches his jaw.

Then—MIN-JUN steps forward, jaw set. He shoves his rifle toward A-RA, eyebrows raised, challenge glinting in his eyes.In a smooth, arrogant tone he goes,

“Alright then, … why don’t you show us how it’s done?”

A-RA—her face calm, unreadable.
No smirk. No sass. Just... stillness.

She stares at him for a beat too long.

Then—without breaking eye contact—
Delicately. Deliberately. Like a ritual before the storm.

The boys fall quiet.
Even the air feels tighter.

Her heels echo as she walks past MIN-JUN, slow and measured. She stops in front of the shooting lane.

No words.

Just the metallic click as she picks up the rifle.

She slides into position.
Finger on the trigger.

[TO BE CONTINUED…]