Black Lotus Café – Private office on the second floor – 10:30 p.m.
On the second floor of Black Lotus' main location, soft lighting gave the place an elegant atmosphere. Suhyeon silently reviewed customer flow documents, while Ji-hyuk finished jotting down the next steps for expansion.
Then there was a light knock on the frosted glass door.
Before Suhyeon could speak, the door opened.
A man entered. Perfectly tailored suit, subtle cologne, and a gaze that measured every inch of the room.
Samuel Seo.
"You were right, Ji-hyuk. The atmosphere is... different," Samuel said as he scanned the office with his eyes.
"Quiet, sober, and smelling of strong coffee. I like it."
Suhyeon didn't move. He just looked at him.
"There are no reservations for you. What do you want?"
Samuel smiled, no offense intended.
"Business. Opportunity, if you want to sound less sleazy."
Ji-hyuk, from the corner, frowned but didn't intervene. He knew who he was.
Samuel took one of the chairs in front of Suhyeon and finally sat down.
"You've earned a reputation. Fast, quiet. Neat. What you're building with Black Lotus... it's not just profitable. It's elegant. But above all: it's scalable."
Suhyeon narrowed his eyes.
"I don't need a lesson in management."
"No. But you need to look beyond the clean metrics," Samuel replied, pulling a small tablet out of his briefcase. He turned it on with a tap.
"Black Lotus is generating loyalty. Repeat consumption. Customers returning up to three times a week. And that, Suhyeon... can be pushed."
Suhyeon tilted his head slightly.
Samuel rested his elbows on the table.
"What would you think if I told you that you could increase that rate by 35%... without advertising? Nothing harmful. Just a small legal compound—not yet registered with the Korean FDA—that enhances taste perception, generates a slight release of dopamine, and creates a mild routine of dependency. Harmless. But powerful."
Ji-hyuk raised his head.
"Are you talking about drugs?"
"No. I'm talking about functional food additives. The same ones used by imported tea chains or premium gyms. Only we don't have to declare them."
Suhyeon didn't respond immediately.
Samuel watched him closely.
"This isn't a cartel, Suhyeon. It's efficiency. At Workers, we use entire systems to manipulate consumption, loyalty, flow. Black Lotus can be more than just pretty coffee shops. It can be a brand of social conditioning."
Silence.
Then Suhyeon spoke.
"And what's in it for you?"
Samuel smiled.
"A small percentage. And access to your distribution network. I don't need you to work for Workers... but I want to be close if this takes off like I think it will."
"What percentage are you expecting?"
"Twenty percent of net profits. And use of three internal logistics routes."
Ji-hyuk couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
Suhyeon leaned back slightly in his chair. He thought about it for a few seconds. Then he spoke in a calm, firm voice.
"I'll give you ten percent. And a single shared route for your interests. Nothing more."
Samuel smiled, as if he had already anticipated the answer.
"Fifteen and two routes. And your coffee will become irresistible."
"Twelve. One route. And I decide if the additive stays if the metrics go down."
Samuel stared at him. Silence.
Finally, he extended his hand.
"Deal."
Suhyeon shook his hand, briefly and without emotion.
"Start testing at a single branch. Academic district. And nothing that arouses medical suspicion."
"You'll have it. I'll send you the formula tonight."
Samuel stood up, grabbed his briefcase, and headed for the door.
Before he could open it, Suhyeon stopped him with a low, firm voice:
"Before you go, Ji-hyuk already has the documents ready. Sign the agreement tonight. We'll keep it off any digital base, as a precaution."
Samuel paused, nodded with a raised eyebrow, and turned with a more serious smile.
"Of course. It's always best to be clear from the start."
Ji-hyuk already had a folder with the printed contract on the desk. Samuel took the pen without further words and signed the last page.
Suhyeon watched him sign, expressionless.
Once finished, Samuel put the pen back in its place and turned toward the door.
Before leaving, he took one last look over his shoulder.
"This place is going to grow faster than you think. Just remember one thing, Suhyeon..."
"What?"
"Addiction isn't always bad. You just have to know who you're selling it to."
The door closed.
Ji-hyuk sighed softly.
"Are you sure about this?"
"I'll keep an eye on it. And if anything goes wrong... Samuel won't be walking out that door next time."
[Samuel Seo]
Height: 194 centimeters.
Weight: 90 kilograms.
Strength: ?
Speed: ?
Potential: A (Mastery)
Intelligence: S
Endurance: ?
Suhyeon says nothing. He just stares at the coffee cooling on his desk.
Then he murmurs:
"I want a chemical analysis of that formula before I allow a single customer to consume it."
Ji-hyuk nods without looking up.
"And I want surveillance on Samuel. If he decides to cross any lines without telling me... we'll know before he does."
[Scene change]: Streets of Gangbuk – 11:30 p.m.
The night was calm.
The streets of Gangbuk were a map of broken lights and cold wind, and at that hour, only loners walked.
Suhyeon walked without haste.
His mind was still processing his meeting with Samuel, but something snapped him out of autopilot.
In front of a closed warehouse, a crouching figure was picking fruit off the ground. A torn bag. A jar of sauce teetering on the edge of the sidewalk.
Suhyeon stopped.
It was his mother.
Without thinking too much, he approached her. He crouched down beside her.
She looked up and recognized him immediately.
"Suhyeon...? How strange to see you here at this hour," she said, her voice tired but not harsh.
"I was running late. I walked to clear my head."
"And you happen to see me in this dignified scene," she joked softly, picking up a slightly bruised onion.
He didn't smile, but he didn't leave either.
"I'll help you."
He picked up a few things and put them in a sturdier bag.
"You don't come by the house anymore," she said, without looking directly at him. "I thought you'd forgotten where you lived..."
"I haven't forgotten," he replied. "I'm just... busy."
"Right. Too busy for early morning soup or a ten-minute conversation."
Suhyeon didn't answer.
She looked at him more closely.
There was something about his posture, the way he kept silent, that seemed unfamiliar to her.
"You don't talk the same way," she murmured.
"How did I talk before?"
"With more life. With more... I don't know, more of the boy you used to be."
He looked at her for a second.
"I guess I've changed."
"Yes. And I don't know if that makes me happy or worried," she said honestly.
"I'm doing fine, Mom. I'm doing things my way."
"That's not what worries me," she replied.
There was a long silence.
The kind of silence that isn't filled with tension, but with things that haven't been said in a long time.
"You know," she said as they crossed over to a quieter street, "when you used to leave, I would wonder if you were okay... now I watch you leave and wonder what you're becoming."
Suhyeon looked down a little.
"Maybe I'm tired of being the one who gets hurt first."
She nodded, as if she understood something she didn't dare name.
"Well. This is my street."
He handed her the bag.
"Thanks," she said, taking it.
"Are you okay?" he asked, barely audibly.
"I'm the same as always, honey. But you... you're growing up. And changing more than you realize."
He said it without reproach. Just stating the obvious.
"And if you ever want to come back... don't let me know. Just come in. The door hasn't changed."
Suhyeon nodded once. Then he stood there, watching his mother walk slowly around the corner.
And as she disappeared, something in her face seemed more tired than ever. Not because of age.
But because she no longer knew if the boy who had just helped her was her son... or the memory of someone who only looked like him.
"Something in her gaze hit me harder than any fight. I don't know if it's guilt, or just the memory of what I was... in my past life."