SEOUL – DECEMBER 2021
The 42nd floor of the Oh Financial Group headquarters existed in a different atmospheric pressure. The air was filtered, scentless, and cold enough to feel sterile. The Digital Transformation Committee occupied a glass-walled annex that looked less like an office and more like a futuristic laboratory—all white surfaces, floating data visualizations, and the silent hum of quantum-level encryption.
Lee Je-Hoon, as Alexander Lee, stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his reflection a pale ghost overlaid on the sprawl of Yeouido below. In his hand, a secure tablet synced to the committee's raw data feed. It was a firehose of information: real-time capital flows, dark pool trade aggregates, encrypted internal communications metadata. To a normal analyst, it was noise. To Marco, it was a symphony.
𝘿𝙖𝙩𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 100%. 𝙉𝙚𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙. 𝙒𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙞𝙫 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙥 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙞𝙧𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙆𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧. 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙. 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙃𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙯𝙤𝙣 𝘾𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙡: 94%. 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙢𝙚: 24-72 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨.
Je-Hoon didn't turn. "Prioritize the threat. And run a separate simulation. Variable: Kim Yuna's safety."
𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚.
---
THE FIRST COMMITTEE MEETING
The committee was a Potemkin village of innovation. Six members: three were Oh family loyalists going through the motions, two were external tech consultants bewildered by the financial data, and one was Je-Hoon—the silent observer.
Oh Soo-jae presided from the head of the table, a queen among pawns. She acknowledged him with a microscopic nod. Nothing more. But her eyes, when they flicked to the data dashboards, were calculating. She was watching to see what he would do with the access she'd granted.
The agenda was dull: blockchain pilot programs, AI-driven risk assessment tools. Je-Hoon said nothing. He listened. Marco recorded everything, cross-referencing each bland proposal with the raw data feeds, uncovering the hidden agendas.
𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙖𝙡 𝘽-7, '𝘿𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙 𝙇𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢,' 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙟𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙝 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙮 42% 𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙖 𝙃𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙯𝙤𝙣 𝘾𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚. 𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙖 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙥. 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 '𝙡𝙤𝙮𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨' 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩.
Min-jun's counterstrike wasn't coming from outside. It was already inside. A digital backdoor, approved by her own team.
Je-Hoon waited until the meeting adjourned. As Soo-jae stood, he approached, his voice low. "A word, Director Oh. About Proposal B-7. The due diligence on the tech partner is incomplete. There's a material conflict of interest."
He handed her his tablet, where Marco had highlighted the ownership trail in stark, undeniable lines.
She scanned it, her face a mask of ice. But her knuckles whitened around the device. She saw it instantly. Not just the threat, but the betrayal from within her ranks.
"Thank you for your… observation, Mr. Lee." Her voice was deadly quiet. "I'll have compliance review it immediately."
She had her first proof of his value, delivered in the first hour. And he had given her a weapon to use against her own people.
---
THE SACRIFICE: LEAVING YUNA
That evening, Je-Hoon stood across the street from the law firm, watching Kim Yuna exit, laughing with a coworker. The sight was a punch to a part of him he thought Marco had safely numbed.
𝙎𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚. 𝙎𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙤: 𝙈𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙘𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙆𝙞𝙢 𝙔𝙪𝙣𝙖. 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙃𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙯𝙤𝙣/𝙈𝙞𝙣-𝙟𝙪𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 30 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨: 87%. 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩: 41%. 𝙐𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚.
Scenario: Sever all contact. Probability she becomes a target: drops to 22%. But she remains vulnerable to general predation. Unacceptable.
Scenario: Transfer her into a protective sphere. A more powerful, legitimate protector.
Je-Hoon's mind clicked. Oh Soo-jae.
𝙎𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙤: 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙮𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙆𝙞𝙢 𝙔𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙊𝙝 𝙂𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙥 𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝘽𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙩𝙨: 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚'𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙢. 𝙇𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮. 𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝘾𝙤𝙨𝙩: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙧. 𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙩.
It was the optimal play. The only play. He would give up his one tether to normal humanity to keep her safe, and in doing so, place her under the wing of the one person whose protection was stronger than any threat Min-jun could muster.
He texted Yuna. "Can you meet? It's important."
---
THE TRANSFER
They met at the study café in Hongdae. She looked tired but happy, clutching law books to her chest. "Je-Hoon-ssi! Did your trip go well?"
"It did." He gestured for her to sit. His tone was different. Formal. The Alexander Lee bleed-through. "Yuna-ssi, I have a proposition. A professional one."
Her smile faded, replaced by confusion.
"I have a connection at Oh Financial Group. Their legal department has an accelerated internship program for top students. It leads to a full-time position. I've recommended you."
She blinked. "What? How? Why?"
"Because you're brilliant. And you deserve a real chance, not data entry in a basement." He pushed a sealed envelope across the table. "The interview is tomorrow at 10 AM. The director is expecting you. The address is inside."
She stared at the envelope like it was a live snake. "This is… too much. I can't accept this kind of favor."
"It's not a favor. It's an investment. In you." He met her eyes, allowing a sliver of the real Je-Hoon to show through the armor. "The world out there is full of men in cheap suits who will try to bully you for soju discounts. This is a door into a building where they can't reach you. Walk through it."
Tears welled in her eyes, not of joy, but of bewildered loss. She sensed the finality. "Are you… saying goodbye?"
"I'm saying your path and mine are diverging. This is the best way I know to make sure your path leads somewhere safe. Somewhere bright." He stood. "Go to the interview. Be yourself. They'll see what I see."
He turned to leave before his resolve could crack.
"Je-Hoon-ssi!" she called out. He paused. "Who are you? Really?"
He didn't look back. "Someone who needed to see one good thing get the chance it deserved."
He walked out into the cold Seoul night, leaving his last connection to warmth behind.
𝙀𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 18%. 𝙎𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡. 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙫𝙪𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙.
It's fine. Proceed.
---
THE COUNTERSTRIKE ARRIVES
It came not at him, but at his creation.
At 3 AM, alarms blared in Marco's virtual space. 𝙐𝙍𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏: 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙂𝘼𝙋𝙊𝙍𝙀 𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙏𝙄𝙀𝙎 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘼𝙏𝙏𝘼𝘾𝙆. 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙎𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙎 𝘾𝘼𝙋𝙄𝙏𝘼𝙇'𝙎 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙯𝙚𝙣. 𝙍𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙔 𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙔 𝙊𝙁 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙂𝘼𝙋𝙊𝙍𝙀 (𝙈𝘼𝙎) 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧: 𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙉𝙔𝙈𝙊𝙐𝙎 𝙏𝙄𝙋.
Min-jun. He couldn't touch Je-Hoon directly in Seoul, so he was trying to dismantle his overseas infrastructure, to starve him of capital and mobility.
Je-Hoon was already moving, pulling on a jacket. "Status of our Thai assets?"
𝙇𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙯𝙚𝙣 𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙨. 𝙒𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚. 𝙀𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚: 4-6 𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙠𝙨. 𝙒𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 65% 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙙 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙡.
A critical blow. Je-Hoon's mind raced, scenarios flashing. He needed to act within Oh Group's structure. He needed her.
He called the number on the white card. It rang once before connecting.
"Speak." Soo-jae's voice was alert. She'd been expecting trouble.
"My Singapore conduit has been targeted and frozen. It's a Horizon Capital move. They're trying to isolate me financially."
A beat of silence. He could hear her processing. "How much are you locked out of?"
"Enough to matter."
"And the girl? The law student?"
He froze. She knew. Of course she knew. She'd had him watched. "She's your intern candidate as of tomorrow. She's no longer my concern. She's yours."
Another pause, longer this time. He'd just passed another test—showing he could sacrifice personal attachments for operational security.
"Good," she said, a hint of approval in her tone. "Then your problem is my problem. Horizon is making this personal. They attacked an asset under my… consideration." Her voice turned to steel. "The committee has a discretionary fund for strategic digital defense. Use it. Clean your Singapore problem. I'll provide political cover with the MAS through our channels. But Je-Hoon…"
He waited.
"Clean it permanently. And find me the leak inside my committee who's feeding Horizon information. Do that, and we stop playing defense. We go for the throat."
The line went dead.
Je-Hoon stood in the middle of his dark officetel, the city's lights bleeding through the blinds. The counterstrike had come. And in response, Oh Soo-jae hadn't just offered protection.
She had declared war.
And she had just appointed him her field commander.
𝘼𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝙒𝙖𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙤𝙘𝙤𝙡 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙. 𝙊𝙗𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 1: 𝙐𝙣𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙯𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙡. 𝙊𝙗𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 2: 𝙄𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙪𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙡𝙚. 𝙊𝙗𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 3: 𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙃𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙯𝙤𝙣.
Je-Hoon looked at his hands, steady in the semi-darkness. Kim Yuna was safe, transferred to a fortress. His capital was under attack. His patron had given him a mission and a license to kill.
The quiet analyst was gone. The ghost in the machine was gone.
What remained was a weapon, freshly sharpened, pointed at the heart of his enemies.
And for the first time, he was not alone in the fight.
---
[End of Episode 9]
[Status: Inside Oh Group. Capital Under Siege. Human Anchor Transferred to Protective Custody.]
[Wealth: 65% Frozen. Access to Oh Group War Chest Granted.]
[Key Development: Oh Soo-jae declares covert war on Horizon Capital. Je-Hoon appointed chief operative.]
[Next Episode: The Mole & The Thaw]