A few days after the completion of the Inno Trade Corp operation, the results spoke for themselves.
The company had transferred the ₩150 million payment on time, along with an additional note of appreciation—professional, carefully worded, but unmistakably impressed.
Mr. Oh double-checked the statement three times, partly out of habit, partly because he still couldn't believe it. The client's follow-up message was curt but glowing: "We were impressed with NovaSec's efficiency. Let's discuss a long-term arrangement."
That sentence alone made him exhale a laugh of disbelief. "Sixteen-year-old genius, you did it again," he muttered, rubbing his temples before heading into the office.
Inside the main office, Jae-Hyun sat behind his desk, the afternoon light slanting through the blinds and striping the dark wood surface with pale gold. He was reviewing the post-operation analysis report Mr. Oh had submitted earlier that morning. His expression didn't shift, but his gaze lingered on every line — the kind of attention that could dissect both code and motive.
Mr. Oh paused at the door. "Jae-Hyun, may I come in?"
"Report," Jehune said without looking up.
Mr. Oh closed the door behind him and stepped forward. "The payment has been received. ₩150 million. Inno Trade Corp was highly satisfied with the outcome. They've already inquired about a potential long-term partnership with NovaSec."
At that, Jae-Hyun looked up — slow, deliberate. His eyes were sharp, the faintest curve of approval in them."Good," he said. "That operation was just the beginning. We can't slow down now."
He leaned back, folding his hands together. "Our next phase is more critical than anything we've done before. We need to build the teams that will carry NovaSec forward. Every position must be filled with people who are competent, discreet, and loyal. I want all teams operational within two weeks."
"Yes, Jae-Hyun," Mr. Oh replied. "I've already begun identifying candidates. Key departments include cybersecurity, network systems, operations management, PR, and administrative coordination. I've drafted preliminary structures for reporting lines and task flows."
"Show me."
Mr. Oh handed over a folder — crisp pages, organized by department. Jae-Hyun skimmed them, his gaze precise and coldly efficient.
"Not bad," he murmured. "But I want verification protocols tightened. No one joins NovaSec without multiple clearance checks. Anyone careless with data is a liability. The moment someone fails to meet standards, they're out. Discretion and competence come first."
"Understood."
Jae-Hyun's tone softened slightly — though only in comparison. "This company must be autonomous, capable of running operations without external reliance, but every major decision routes back to me. No exceptions."
"Yes, sir."
"Mr. Oh," Jae-Hyun said, his voice measured. "When I built this framework, I wasn't planning for a company that only reacts. NovaSec will shape the industry. Every client we work with will rely on us like an artery — invisible but vital."
Mr. Oh smiled faintly. "And every artery leads back to the heart."
Jae-Hyun's lips twitched — a ghost of amusement. "Exactly."
- - -
The next few days were chaos. Mr. Oh, who once thought himself patient, discovered there were limits to human endurance.
He'd booked back-to-back interviews, armed with strong coffee and a list of candidates that looked impressive on paper — and only on paper.
The first few went smoothly enough. Competent, cautious, quiet. But then came Candidate #27.
A young man strolled in wearing sunglasses indoors, chewing gum like he was in a music video. He dropped into the chair and said, "So this is for NovaSec, right? Heard you guys hacked Inno Trade or something. Cool stuff."
Mr. Oh blinked. "We did not 'hack' anyone."
"Sure, sure," the guy said, winking. "Totally legal. So… what's the salary? Also, I can only work remotely. I don't really do mornings."
Mr. Oh stared at him. "…You applied for cybersecurity?"
"Yeah. I'm great with passwords. You need someone to set up Wi-Fi?"
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush air molecules.
Five minutes later, Mr. Oh walked the man to the elevator with the politest possible smile. "We'll be in touch."
When the doors closed, he muttered under his breath, "We'll be in touch never."
By noon, he'd seen everything:
One applicant asked if "discretion" meant not posting about work on TikTok.
Another bragged about "hacking their school's Wi-Fi once."
A third tried to negotiate salary by promising to bring "positive vibes."
By evening, Mr. Oh dropped his head into his hands. "If I have to hear the word 'vibes' one more time, I'll retire."
That night, he called Jae-Hyun. "We have a problem. The talent pool is a kiddie pool."
Jae-Hyun's voice on the other end was calm. "Filter harder."
"I've filtered so hard I'm down to three people and one of them thinks encryption is a new type of gym workout."
A pause. Then — faint laughter. The kind that made Mr. Oh freeze because it was so rare.
"Alright," Jae-Hyun said. "Tomorrow, check the private referrals list I sent you. Real professionals, not… Wi-Fi enthusiasts."
Mr. Oh sighed in relief. "Thank you. I was starting to lose faith in humanity."
"Keep some," Jae-Hyun said mildly. "You'll need it to manage them later."
The next day was different.The referrals were sharper, their résumés cleaner, their tone precise. Mr. Oh interviewed each one personally — seasoned experts who spoke in technical shorthand and understood the meaning of "invisible."
When one candidate asked, "Will we be credited for our work publicly?" Mr. Oh shook his head.
"If you're doing your job right," he said, "no one will know you exist."
The man smiled. "Perfect."
Finally, things were clicking.
Over the next week, NovaSec's ranks took shape: cybersecurity, operations, systems administration, PR, and admin. Every role filled with precision. Mr. Oh watched it happen like a symphony assembling itself — except for one sour note.
It happened during the final evaluation meeting.
The newly formed teams had gathered in the main room — twenty-odd people, all dressed in quiet professionalism. Mr. Oh stood at the front, clipboard in hand, going over final instructions.
Then a voice piped up from the back.
"Excuse me, but I have a question," said a young analyst, sharp suit, sharper attitude. "Who exactly runs this company?"
The room went still.
Mr. Oh blinked. "Pardon?"
The analyst hesitated, then said, "I've been in enough startups to recognize when someone's taking orders. You—" the man continued, gesturing to Mr. Oh as he stood."—you're the face, the public structure. But there's someone else above you, isn't there? The one actually calling the shots."
Every head turned. Mr. Oh's fingers tightened slightly around his clipboard.
Mr. Oh blinked once. "You've been watching too many dramas."
"I'm serious," the man pressed. "Every directive we get feels… pre-filtered. Someone's reviewing everything before it reaches you. I just want to know who I'm really working for."
"The name on your contract is all the authority you need," he said calmly.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you'll get."
The man smirked. "So what — we're following a ghost?"
The temperature in the room dropped.
Mr. Oh could have ended it there, but he didn't need to — because the conference room door opened behind them, revealing a tall, well-built young man. His features were striking, his presence quiet but commanding. Dark hair framed a face almost too handsome — sharp jaw, clear skin, eyes that held a quiet kind of fire — and though clearly young, there was an authority in the way he carried himself that made every head turn.
Jae-Hyun stepped in, quietly, like a shadow. Dressed in a plain black shirt, expression unreadable.
Every conversation died instantly.
He walked up beside Mr. Oh, glancing once at the man who had spoken. "You're the systems analyst?"
"Yes," the man said, uncertain now.
Jae-Hyun's tone was calm, level, almost polite. "You value transparency. Good trait. But here's the thing — NovaSec operates on precision and trust. The moment either wavers, we collapse. So let's test yours."
He gestured to one of the monitors. "Run a network trace. Now."
The analyst hesitated. "What?"
"Trace the current data flow on our internal server. I want you to find the false access point."
The man sat quickly, fingers flying across the keyboard. For thirty seconds, the room was silent except for keystrokes. Then — his hands froze.
There was a false access point. Hidden, encrypted, subtle — a simulated breach.
"How…" he murmured.
Jae-Hyun stepped closer. "You found it in thirty seconds. That's impressive. You'll stay."
He turned, walking toward the door. "But next time, question my identity again—" his voice was soft, but it carried like a blade, "—make sure you can handle the answer."
The door shut behind him, and only then did everyone breathe again.
Mr. Oh rubbed his forehead. "Welcome to NovaSec," he muttered.
Later that evening, when the teams dispersed, Mr. Oh went to Jae-Hyun's office.
"You didn't have to come down personally," he said.
"I did," Jae-Hyun replied simply. "They needed to see that the ghost can walk."
Mr. Oh chuckled. "You scared half of them."
"Good. Fear keeps people sharp."
"Hmm. And here I was thinking humor builds loyalty."
Jae-Hyun smiled. "You can handle the humor. I'll handle the fear."
Mr. Oh laughed softly. "Fair trade."
The next morning, the usual hum of work filled the floor, but no one was actually focusing. Every conversation circled back to one topic.
"So, who was he really?" whispered one analyst, leaning over her coffee.
"The boss," said another in awe. "Like, the boss. The one behind Mr. Oh."
"No way. He looked too young. Early twenties, maybe?"
"Twenty-two tops. But still… he had that 'don't mess with me' face."
"Yeah, and that face, period," someone else chimed in, sighing. "If I were a few years younger—"
"Unnie, please," one of the interns laughed. "Some of us are young enough."
"Tch. He's probably arrogant," another muttered, though her voice betrayed curiosity more than disdain. "The quiet ones always are."
"Arrogant? He barely said a word. He just walked in and everyone froze."
"Exactly! That's the scary kind."
The room burst into low laughter, half nervous, half impressed. Even the more serious staff couldn't deny it — that boy had a presence that didn't fit his age.
Meanwhile, across town, Jae-Hyun walked through the school gates, his bag slung over one shoulder, his pace unhurried as usual. A light breeze carried the faint scent of pine from the nearby trees — and just as he stepped onto the main path, he sneezed once, sharp and unexpected.
He blinked, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"...Someone's talking about me," he murmured under his breath, voice low and amused.
Then he slipped his hands into his pockets and continued toward class, calm as ever — unaware that, at that very moment, his employees were doing exactly that.
By the end of the second week, NovaSec pulsed with quiet life. Monitors hummed, encrypted channels flickered, voices coordinated like clockwork.
The failed interviews and tense meetings now felt like distant memories. The team was functional — disciplined, silent, effective.
Mr. Oh handed Jae-Hyun the final report. "Every department is operational. No loose ends."
Jae-Hyun nodded, flipping through the pages. "Good. The next phase starts tomorrow. A new client — mid-tier conglomerate, but with valuable connections."
He closed the folder, eyes gleaming faintly. "This time, NovaSec won't just operate unseen. We'll leave a mark — one no one can trace."
Mr. Oh smirked. "So basically, leave fingerprints in gloves."
Jae-Hyun chuckled under his breath. "Exactly."
They stood for a moment — a teenager and his weary right hand — staring at the night skyline beyond the window.
"Mr. Oh," Jae-Hyun said quietly, "do you ever miss the simplicity of normal work?"
Mr. Oh thought for a moment, then smiled. "No. Normal never paid this well."
Jae-Hyun laughed. "Fair point."
Outside, the lights of Seoul blinked like a thousand servers waiting to be conquered.
And somewhere inside NovaSec's silent systems, a new notification blinked alive — a message from an unfamiliar domain, marked URGENT: SECURITY BREACH DETECTED.
Mr. Oh frowned. "You were saying something about no loose ends?"
Jae-Hyun's smile didn't fade. "Good. Let's see what my new team can really do."