[One month later]
"Son... it's unusual for you to visit us," said his mother, sitting across the table, with a nervous smile.
Suhyeon didn't respond right away. He chewed calmly, staring at his plate.
"Um... haven't you told her yet what you do when you stay there?" Dahyun chimed in teasingly, serving herself more rice. Her smile was sharp as always, but this time she got no reaction.
Suhyeon continued eating without flinching.
"I came because I wanted to spend more time with you," he said at last, setting his chopsticks aside and taking a second to wipe his lips with his napkin. "Besides, business is going well. Project Bloom is growing. The reviews keep coming in."
His mother nodded slowly, with a mixture of surprise and sincere pride.
"I'm so glad your venture is working out, Suhyeon. I really am. You deserve it."
"Thanks," he muttered, barely nodding his head.
Then Dahyun leaned toward him a little with a mischievous smile.
"And tell me, oppa... don't you have some extra won lying around? You know, girls have to take care of ourselves too. Nails, face, cute clothes... important things."
Suhyeon raised an eyebrow but didn't smile. He just looked at her silently, as if evaluating whether to respond with sarcasm or a transfer.
"I'll transfer it to you later," he replied neutrally, as if talking about an unimportant bank transaction.
"Oppaaa, you're the best!" Dahyun practically jumped up and threw her arms around him from the side. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Suhyeon let her hug him without protest, although his gaze remained vacant, as if he were already thinking about something else.
Minutes later.
He left his plate completely clean. He stood up calmly, picked up his briefcase that he had left leaning against the wall, and placed it on the table in front of his mother.
"This is for you," he said in a low voice, without drama. "There's about twenty thousand dollars. Convert it to won when you have time."
His mother looked at him as if she hadn't heard him correctly.
"Twenty... what?"
"Twenty thousand," he repeated without looking at her, already turning toward the dining room door.
Dahyun opened her mouth in disbelief, then turned to the briefcase as if she could read through the leather. His mother hadn't touched it yet.
"Suhyeon..." she began, but he had already taken a few steps into the hallway.
"Use it however you want. For the house. For yourself," he added without stopping.
"I heard from Dahyun that you've been coming home late from work lately. Get some rest with this. Don't push yourself too hard."
Before he could continue, his mother stopped him with a smile. One of those warm, silent smiles that said more than words ever could.
"Thank you, son," she said softly, her eyes shining.
Suhyeon looked at her for a second, just a moment, and then looked away.
Without saying another word, he closed the door behind him.
The air on the street was different: colder. He loosened the collar of his coat and calmly descended the steps of the entrance. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket.
He took it out.
Message from contact: Inspector Yang.
"I told you not to contact me about small things."
"But this... this deserves a conversation."
"Do you have time tonight?"
Suhyeon read silently, without surprise. His fingers responded mechanically.
"Tell me the place and time."
He put his cell phone away and walked away from the house, with the same calm pace with which he had arrived, but his eyes... no longer looked back.
[Scene change]: Daeheon Restaurant, Gangnam District – 9:00 p.m.
The glass doors opened without Suhyeon having to say a word. The receptionist recognized him instantly and nodded deferentially.
"Mr. Yang is waiting for you," he said in a low voice, before motioning for him to follow.
Two bodyguards in dark suits approached with robotic movements. They said nothing. They simply escorted him through the main hall, past tables decorated with fine china, suspended golden lamps, and the controlled murmur of important conversations.
Suhyeon wore a tailored black suit. No logos, no flashiness. Just clean lines, a silent presence. Each step he took was firm and measured.
They led him to a private room at the back, a discreet table by the window. There he was.
Juncheol Yang.
Dark gray suit, sober tie, upright posture. He didn't smile, but he wasn't intimidating either. The kind of man who knew that true power didn't need to raise his voice... but to press with presence.
"Sit down," Yang said calmly, gesturing to the seat across from him.
Suhyeon didn't ask. He sat down naturally, draping his coat over the back of the chair without breaking eye contact.
The table was immaculate. Mineral water already poured. Two unused glasses. No plates yet.
"Here you go," Juncheol said, offering him a glass of wine.
Suhyeon took it in stride, without comment.
Juncheol said nothing for a few seconds. He just watched him with the same methodical calm one would expect from someone accustomed to negotiating at tables where the stakes are not always legal... or clean.
"When I saw your message, I thought it was just another exaggeration from someone with new connections," he finally said. "But coming from you... I figured it had some weight."
"It does," Suhyeon replied, setting the glass down on the table without drinking it.
Juncheol narrowed his eyes slightly, without tension, just anticipation.
"So tell me. What exactly do you want?"
Suhyeon rested his elbows on the table, interlacing his fingers.
"I have a target in Gangbuk. A rival. I'm going to dismantle him publicly."
Juncheol raised an eyebrow, maintaining his composure.
"Trouble with gangsters?"
"Not exactly. It's a structure with backing, executives, covert operations. I know I can take it down in the field... but I don't want survivors to reorganize the resistance."
Yang slowly picked up his glass and took a sip.
"And you want an institutional cleanup."
"I want precision... exactly selective police power. I'll give you a list of every executive and their location. I need you to arrest them simultaneously."
Juncheol set his glass down on the coaster with a sharp click.
"That requires more than coordination. I need legal justification, falsified evidence, a credible narrative. We can't arrest executives without a solid charge: trafficking, embezzlement, smuggling... something that won't fall apart if it goes to trial."
Suhyeon nodded slowly, without losing his composure.
"I've already considered that. I have recordings, locations linked to the movement of substances, and accounts associated with irregular payments. I can make it all look authentic. I just need you to complete the script from your side."
Juncheol fell silent, thoughtful. Crossing one leg.
"What you're asking for isn't an intervention. It's a full-blown covert operation."
"And what I'm offering isn't just a favor," Suhyeon replied slowly. "It's the beginning of a useful relationship. You know as well as I do that contacts carry more weight than titles. If you take my side now... tomorrow you'll have someone with a presence in Gangbuk, with no emotional ties or strings attached."
Yang finally smiled slightly. Not out of satisfaction, but out of recognition.
"Ambitious."
"Just efficient... Mr. Yang."
---
📜 Rhythm System – Questism and Lookism Fanfic Lv.1
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