Do Rae was punching out bad guys in alleys.

Do Rin was punching holes in history.

She sat on her bed with three tabs open, two notebooks, and one mission:
Find out who Do Mi Na was, and why her own mother erased her.

Downstairs, the news was playing.

An apartment break-in had been foiled by what witnesses described as a “tiny blur of justice.”
The camera panned to a crumpled gang member mumbling about “a girl who lifted a motorcycle.”

Rin groaned and hit mute. “Rae’s gonna blow our cover in three days.”

She returned to the article. The deeper she dug, the more fragmented the story became.

Do Mi Na had existed.

She was real.

She’d been strong.

And then — suddenly — she’d been gone.

Committed to a psychiatric facility at age 25. Released. Then vanished from public record.

No photos after 2001.

No family ties listed.

No mention of Bong Soon. Not once.

Rin closed her laptop, heart thudding. She knew her mom was hiding something.

But why hide a strong woman? Unless...

“She broke the rules.”

Rin whispered it aloud. And once she did, it made too much sense.

Meanwhile, across town, Do Rae was living her best superhero life.

Tonight’s mission?
A tip about a smuggling ring near the port. Low stakes. Low security. Perfect warm-up.

Except it wasn’t.

Because when she arrived—mask on, hood up, all black—she found more than just a few guys moving illegal phones.

There were armed guards.
Encrypted laptops.
And a guy in a suit whispering into a smartwatch:

“Test subject is confirmed. Initiate live data capture.”

Rae didn’t wait.

She charged in like a wrecking ball—spinning kicks, crushed crates, men flying.

But they didn’t panic.

They filmed.

Ten minutes later, panting and proud, Rae stood over a pile of unconscious smugglers.

Then she noticed it.

A small drone, hovering quietly.

Recording everything.

Rae’s eyes widened. She threw a box at it—missed—and it zipped away.

Back home, Rin was waiting at the door, face pale.

“You were in the news. Again.”

“I saved three women and a cat,” Rae said, grinning.

Rin didn’t smile. “You were baited. It was a setup.”

Rae blinked. “What?”

“Someone was watching. Tracking. Testing you.”

She held up her laptop, showing a paused video of Rae mid-air, fist raised.

Time stamp: Ten minutes ago.

Across the city, the footage was already being uploaded.

A group of men in lab coats watched the screen. The main one leaned forward, murmuring:

“Subject Alpha confirmed. And she’s even stronger than her mother.”

He turned to his assistant.

“Where’s the second twin?”