I. The Return of the Artist
Three months had passed since Bae Ha-eun had entered the Chairman's silent sanctuary. The abstract, chaotic paintings of "Min-soo" were slowly giving way to clear, structured forms. Her personality, though still lacking the sharp edge of the Chairwoman, had regained a quiet, fierce intensity. She was painting memories she didn't know she had.
Taehyung had just concluded a brutal negotiation, successfully crushing the last significant pocket of resistance left by Mr. Jang's faction. He arrived home, exhausted, to find Min-soo standing before a finished, fully dry canvas set prominently in the main foyer.
The painting was stunning. It wasn't a landscape or a portrait; it was a single, hyper-realistic image of a crimson red scarf, tied loosely but elegantly around a ghostly, blurred tree branch. The colour was the same intense shade as the temple scarf from their childhood—the one marked with Ha-eun's blood, the one Taehyung had thought he'd shredded.
"I don't know why I painted it," Min-soo said softly, running her fingers over the rich oil paint. "It felt like the most important thing I've ever lost. A symbol of something both beautiful and horribly broken."
Taehyung stared at the scarf. It was the deepest fragment of the Broken Vow yet recovered. It was a secret, a symbol only three people knew: himself, Ha-eun, and Kim Seok-jin.
II. The Public Signal
Taehyung's heart hammered against his ribs. The red scarf was not just a painting; it was a vulnerable, public admission of the secret past.
"We need to remove this immediately," Taehyung said, his voice flat with urgency.
"No," Min-soo retorted, her eyes flashing with a spark of the old, defiant Chairwoman. "It's my best work. It needs to be seen."
Before Taehyung could stop her, the new, silent staff—who were secretly his loyal bodyguards—informed him that Min-soo had already called a local curator she'd befriended. The curator had praised the work and, seeing the brilliance, had arranged for the painting to be digitally displayed on a giant LED screen near the Taewon Tower lobby entrance for an exclusive "Mystery Artist" feature.
Taehyung felt a cold dread seize him. The red scarf, the secret symbol of their broken bond, was now broadcasting their shared childhood history right into the heart of the corporate world, where Seok-jin was watching.
III. The Surveillance Trap
Taehyung left Min-soo with two silent guards and sped back to the Taewon Tower, his Chairman's mask now a mask of pure terror. He knew the painting was a beacon.
He went directly to the 80th-floor retreat—his father's old office, the scene of Ha-eun's faked death. He bypassed the advanced security systems he himself had installed and headed straight for the oldest, most inaccessible wall safe, which he knew his father had controlled.
He input the access code, which he had discovered months ago: 10/04/1998 (The date of the temple promise).
The safe opened, revealing not files, but a small, deactivated surveillance hub. It was old, analogue technology, buried deep behind the new digital systems. It was a system Seok-jin would have known about, a secret spy hole into the core of the Chairman's domain.
Taehyung activated the hub. A dizzying array of coded video feeds flickered to life. The main feed was a high-resolution, concealed camera view of the interior of his own private residence—specifically, the foyer where Min-soo had just displayed the painting.
The realization hit him like a physical blow: Seok-jin hadn't left the game; he had just relocated his vantage point. He had been watching them for months, using the forgotten technology to spy on the new Chairman and his amnesiac roommate.
And now, Seok-jin had seen the Red Scarf. The signal was received.
Taehyung leaned on the desk, his knuckles white. The Architect of the Broken Vow had just played his first card, and the Chairman had been oblivious.
The game was no longer about money or power. It was about possession of the secret, the Vow, and the life of the woman now painting their shared doom."Jimin! What are you doing here?" Taehyung's voice was sharp.
Jimin turned, his eyes wide. "Chairman, I... I couldn't sleep. I was checking the perimeter one last time. I found this, sir. It was wedged under the railing. Seok-jin's official statement mentioned he lost his stress marble during the board meeting. But this looks different. It looks like a message."
Taehyung took the marble. It was colder than the night air. He recognized it instantly: the kind of cheap, black marble children played with at the temple courtyard. This was not Seok-jin's. This was a direct, chilling message left for him at the site of the murders.
"Someone was here, Jimin," Taehyung whispered, the cold truth settling over him. "Someone knows." The game wasn't over. It had just moved into the shadows.