The upload began without ceremony.
No sirens.
No dramatic crescendo.
Just the small, intimate sound of a mouse click , so soft it could've been mistaken for a sigh, as Choi pressed Send.
A small window blinked on the screen.
Uploading… 1%
Areum's breath hitched, not out of fear, but something sharper, heavier, like letting go of a weight she had carried for too long.
Ara stood behind them, arms crossed, her jaw set, her heartbeat steady and furious beneath her ribs.
No one spoke.
The screen didn't need witnesses, but they watched anyway, because silence had ruled their world for too long.
18%
29%
47%
With every rise in the progress bar, a piece of the past loosened its claws.
Footage.
Medical records.
Ledger scans.
Van logs.
Shell company routes.
And Ji-woo's final recording shaky, heartbreaking, devastating in its quiet bravery.
All of it flowing into every major media server, whistleblower archive, and global platform like veins filling with fire.
The truth wasn't a weapon.
It was oxygen to a suffocating world.
______________
It started as revolutions now often do with a single tweet.
No profile picture.
No bio.
No history.
Just an anonymous account appearing out of nowhere:
@truthneverburies
He wasn't the villain. He was the warning.
#JusticeForJiwoo
#KangEmpireExposed
#IAmNotTheVillain
At first, only a few eyes saw it.
Then a hundred.
Then a thousand.
Within minutes, the wildfire caught.
The rooftop footage appeared on screens across the city, unedited.
Ji-woo trying to stand.
The security guards closing in.
Joon-ha screaming his name in terror.
The fall.
The horrific, crushing silence after.
Then the documents.
The one that made the world gasp:
AMNEX-9: Memory Suppression Drug
Dosage: 120mg
Administered: 48 hours post-incident
Status: Illegal, classified
A crime disguised as mercy.
A life erased to protect those whose names were carved in steel.
The city didn't blink.
It roared.
News anchors interrupted live broadcasts mid-sentence.
Journalists swarmed Kang Industries.
Protesters stormed the headquarters, candles in hand, voices trembling with rage and grief.
One sign stood out above the crowd:
"He held on. And they let him fall."
At exactly 10:00 a.m., Ara stepped before a wall of microphones.
Her suit was black , mourning without apology.
Her voice, however, was a blade.
"This is not about one death.
This is about every silence that was bought.
Every contract that was buried.
Every body that was written off as 'accident.'
Ji-woo was not weak.
He was brave enough to speak."
A murmur rippled through the audience, grief mixing with fury.
Ara continued, eyes unwavering:
"President Kang is not merely a businessman.
He is a system.
And systems fall
when truth becomes louder than fear."
The crowd erupted.
Choi felt chills crawl up his spine.
Areum felt tears choke her throat.
The world felt the first crack in the empire.
_______________
In his glass-walled office, President Kang watched the news unfold like a funeral he hadn't planned to attend.
His phone rang nonstop, board members, senators, investors all panicking.
For the first time in years, his name was spoken with fear.
Not reverence.
He poured himself a drink, but the glass trembled in his hand. The ice clinked like distant gunfire.
On the screen, Ji-woo's face played again, small, brave, tragically human.
Kang swallowed hard.
The ice in his drink melted faster than his empire.
By noon, the police arrived.
Ara walked beside them, legal documents tucked under her arm like a sword.
Choi led the officers through the lobby, badge visible, stance unshakable.
Areum stood across the street, hood up, watching with the stillness of someone who had run out of tears.
When Kang stepped out of the elevator, surrounded by guards, he expected loyalty.
But none of them moved.
Not one.
Reporters erupted into chaos, flashes exploding like lightning, voices overlapping.
Joon-ha stood at the back, alone.
Eyes hollow.
Hands shaking.
Heart bruised.
He didn't look at Areum.
She didn't call his name.
Some distances cannot be crossed in a single lifetime.
Some wounds need silence before they heal.
______________
At 2:00 p.m., a new post appeared.
From Ji-woo's restored account, posted by Areum with trembling hands.
No filters.
No edits.
Just his voice.
@hanjiwoo
If you're reading this, I didn't make it.
But Joon-ha… he wasn't the reason I fell. He was the reason I held on until the end.
To the ones who buried the truth: You built your empire on silence. But silence has an expiration date.
To the ones who loved me: I'm sorry.
I tried. God, I tried.
And to the world: Don't forget me.
Not because I mattered.
But because I was real.
Some people don't die when they fall.
They die when the world forgets they were ever standing.
#JusticeForJiwoo #TruthBreathes
The post shattered the internet.
3 million shares in one day.
Projected onto buildings.
Printed on protest banners.
Graffiti on alley walls.
A mural rising overnight on a subway station pillar.
He became what he never expected to be:
A voice that refused to be silenced.
______________
That evening, Areum returned to the rooftop.
His rooftop.
The light was still on, the same bulb Ji-woo used to complain about, now glowing like a small, stubborn star.
A candle flickered beside a sketch of him, drawn by Joon-ha weeks earlier, before whispers became weapons.
Areum knelt beside it, placing a single flower:
A white camellia.
Soo-min's favorite.
The flower of longing, of waiting, of devotion that endures even when the world collapses.
She whispered into the wind:
"You promised a city where no one knew your names."
The city lights shimmered.
"But now the world knows your story."
She straightened the sketch.
She didn't expect footsteps behind her.
She didn't expect anyone to come.
But Choi arrived first, quiet, solemn, placing a candle beside hers.
Ara followed, binder tucked under her arm, expression bittersweet, as if she too was learning how to breathe for the first time in years.
Mirae came last red-eyed, slow, fragile, but standing.
Together, they formed a small circle of flickering light.
Not as heroes.
Not as survivors.
Just as witnesses.
Witnesses to a boy who fell.
To a girl who waited.
To a truth that refused to stay buried.
The city wind carried the candle flame upward, as if returning his story to the sky.
Because some endings do not fade into silence.
They ignite.
And truth, once it breathes
never dies
My new novel "velvet devotion" is coming out on 17th November 2025
It's not the book 2 of this novel but it includes some characters from this novel which are, Kim Ara and Detective Choi.