SEOUL โ LATE AUTUMN 2021
The KTX bullet train sliced through the evening, a silver needle stitching the dark fabric of the countryside. Inside the hushed first-class cabin, Lee Je-Hoon sat motionless, his reflection a ghost in the window. The adrenaline of Busan had metabolized into something colder: a hyper-focused clarity.
๐ผ๐ฃ๐๐ก๐ฎ๐จ๐๐จ ๐๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐. ๐๐ฃ๐๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐๐ช๐๐๐๐๐ฉ ๐๐: ๐จ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฉ๐๐๐๐ ๐จ๐ช๐๐๐๐จ๐จ. ๐๐ข๐ค๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ก ๐๐๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ฃ๐๐ฃ๐: 25.3%. ๐๐ค ๐จ๐ช๐ง๐ซ๐๐๐ก๐ก๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐. ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐จ ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ค๐ง๐๐ฏ๐๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐จ ๐ ๐ฉ๐ค๐ค๐ก. ๐๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐จ๐ฉ ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก ๐๐ ๐ก๐๐ซ๐-๐๐๐ง๐.
Je-Hoon's fingers traced the edge of the unmarked white card in his pocket. She didn't ask for Alexander Lee's pedigree. She demanded utility. Past the legend, straight to the function.
๐ผ๐๐๐ช๐ง๐๐ฉ๐. ๐๐๐ '๐จ๐ฅ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐จ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ ๐ฅ๐ค๐๐ฃ๐ฉ' ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก ๐๐ ๐๐ฃ ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐ง๐ฃ๐๐ก ๐ฌ๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐. ๐๐ง๐ค๐๐๐๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ฎ 89%. ๐๐ฉ ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก ๐ง๐๐ฆ๐ช๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐จ๐จ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ข๐๐ก๐ฎ ๐๐ก๐๐จ๐. ๐๐ง๐๐ฅ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ค๐ง ๐๐ก๐ค๐ค๐๐จ๐ฅ๐๐ก๐ก.
---
THE SUMMONS
Five days of silence. Five days of Marco running market sims while Je-Hoon's new identity, Alexander Lee, solidified in the digital ether of corporate registries. The call came at 9:00 PM sharp.
"Yes."
"Tomorrow. 11 PM. Soraen karaoke. Jongno. Room 'Pine.' Alone." Oh Soo-jae's voice was stripped of all polishโraw command frequency. The line died.
๐๐ค๐๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ: ๐ฃ๐๐ช๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ก ๐๐ง๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ค๐ง ๐๐๐ง๐ฉ๐ฎ ๐ฌ๐ค๐ง๐ . ๐๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐๐ฅ๐ง๐ค๐ค๐. ๐๐ค ๐๐ก๐๐๐ฉ๐ง๐ค๐ฃ๐๐๐จ. ๐๐๐ ๐๐จ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฉ ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐จ๐ฉ๐ก๐. ๐๐๐ ๐๐จ ๐ข๐๐๐ฉ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ฃ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ข๐ค๐๐ฉ.
---
SORAEN, JONGNO โ 10:55 PM
The bar breathed stale smoke and secrets. Je-Hoon found Room 'Pine.' Oh Soo-jae sat in the shadows, transformed. Leather jacket, cap, the Ice Queen melted into a razor. She didn't greet him.
"Close the door."
The thump of bass vanished, replaced by a vacuum of intent.
"This stays here. No records. You succeed, we talk permanent. You fail or talk, we never met. Understood?"
"Understood."
๐๐๐ฉ๐๐ก๐จ: ๐๐ก๐๐ซ๐๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ง๐ฉ ๐ง๐๐ฉ๐, ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐ฉ๐ง๐ค๐ก๐ก๐๐. ๐๐ช๐ฅ๐๐ก๐จ ๐๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐. ๐๐๐ ๐๐จ ๐ช๐ฃ๐๐๐ง ๐จ๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐, ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐จ๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ก ๐จ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ. ๐๐๐๐จ ๐๐จ ๐๐๐ข๐๐ก๐๐๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ง.
She slid a tablet across the table. A dossier glowed. "Choi Dae-sung. My father's cousin. Owns Hansong Precision. He's selling his 33% stake in our shipbuilding arm to the Jincheon consortium in Macau in four days. My uncles are backing it. A coup."
Jincheon. The rival. The knife at Oh Group's throat.
"What do you need?"
"The deal dies. Choi changes his mind. No trace back to me. No coercion he can prove. No money from my accounts. It has to be his decision. His ownโฆ recalculated self-interest."
An impossible brief. Change a man's heart at the altar of billions, with empty hands.
Je-Hoon picked up the tablet. Marco consumed the data in a blink.
๐ฟ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐๐๐จ๐ค๐ง๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐. ๐พ๐๐ค๐ ๐ฟ๐๐-๐จ๐ช๐ฃ๐. ๐๐ช๐ก๐ฃ๐๐ง๐๐๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐๐จ: ๐ฅ๐ง๐๐๐, ๐จ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐ข๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ฎ, ๐ ๐ข๐๐จ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ. ๐๐๐๐ ๐ฅ๐ค๐๐ฃ๐ฉ ๐๐จ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฉ ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐๐ก. ๐๐ฉ'๐จ ๐ก๐๐๐๐๐ฎ. ๐๐ ๐๐จ ๐๐๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฎ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐จ ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ง'๐จ ๐จ๐๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ค๐ง ๐๐๐จ๐. ๐๐ ๐ข๐ช๐จ๐ฉ ๐ข๐๐ ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐๐๐๐ก ๐๐๐๐ก ๐ก๐๐ ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฎ๐๐ก ๐ค๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ ๐ก๐๐๐๐๐ฎ.
How?
๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ๐ค๐ง๐ฉ๐๐ช๐ข'๐จ ๐ก๐๐๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐ฉ๐ฃ๐๐ง: '๐๐๐ซ๐๐ฃ๐ง๐ค๐๐ ๐พ๐๐ฅ๐๐ฉ๐๐ก.' ๐๐ช๐ง ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐ก๐ก๐๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐๐ก๐๐๐จ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ฃ, ๐ฉ๐ค๐ญ๐๐ ๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ฉโ๐ ๐ง๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐ง๐ฉ๐ ๐ข๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ฃ ๐๐๐ก๐๐ฎ๐จ๐๐. ๐๐ฃ๐ซ๐๐ง๐ค๐ฃ๐ข๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐ก ๐ซ๐๐ค๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ, ๐ก๐ค๐๐๐ก ๐ช๐ฅ๐ง๐๐จ๐๐ฃ๐. ๐ผ ๐จ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ก ๐ง๐๐ฅ๐ ๐๐ค๐ง ๐๐๐ฉ๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ. ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ก๐๐ง๐๐ฉ๐ ๐๐ฉ. ๐๐ ๐ก๐๐๐ ๐๐ฉ. ๐๐ ๐๐ช๐๐๐ ๐พ๐๐ค๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐๐จ๐๐ค๐ซ๐๐ง ๐๐ฉ, ๐ข๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ข ๐๐๐ก๐๐๐ซ๐ ๐ ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐จ๐๐ก๐ก ๐๐๐ข ๐ง๐ค๐ฉ๐ฉ๐๐ฃ ๐๐ค๐ค๐๐จ.
A three-act play of ruin. Psychological warfare with financial shrapnel.
Je-Hoon looked up. "I can do it. The price for Pan-Asia?"
"Name it."
"A silent observer seat on the Oh Group Digital Transformation Committee. And access to its raw data feeds."
Not money. Information. The only currency Marco could compound infinitely.
Soo-jae's eyes narrowed, recalculating. The committee was a backwater, but the data was a nerve ending. She'd be giving him a tap into the corporate bloodstream.
"Granted. Ninety-six hours." She stood. "Don't contact me. I'll know."
She vanished through a hidden exit, leaving him with the silent, blue ocean on the karaoke screen.
---
THE OPERATION: THREE MOVES
๐ผ๐๐ฉ 1: ๐๐๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ.
Je-Hoon used the Ghost Editor channel. Fed Jang Mi-sook the coordinatesโthe mine, the violations, the protest leader. Framed as a tip from a Malaysian NGO. Mi-sook bit. An SMN stringer was dispatched. The story began to breathe.
๐ผ๐๐ฉ 2: ๐๐ก๐๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ซ๐๐ง๐ช๐จ ๐๐๐๐ค๐ง๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐ค๐จ๐ฉ.
Choi Dae-sung's Thursday ritual: liquid lunch, then the club library. Je-Hoon was there the day before Macau, posing as an academic. He called up SMN's site just as the alert flashed: "Havenrock Capital Linked to Environmental Disaster; Financing in Jeopardy."
He turned the screen slightly toward Choi's chair. "Terrible business. Looks like Havenrock might be insolvent by weekend. Makes you wonder who they're in bed with."
He walked away. Left Choi staring at the headline, his face bleaching of color.
๐ผ๐๐ฉ 3: ๐๐๐ ๐ฅ๐ค๐๐จ๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ก๐ก.
That evening, a courier delivered a package to Choi's home. Paid in untraceable cash. Inside: a single shard of antique porcelainโa match to his father's prized collection. A printed note:
"A legacy broken for partners who hide their cracks. Will they value your father's porcelain, or melt it down for scrap?"
It connected dry scandal to wet, familial blood. Pride to poison.
---
THE RESULT
8:17 AM. Macau signing day. The financial wire spat out a terse announcement from Hansong Precision: "After review, the proposed transaction no longer aligns with our long-term strategic vision. All discussions terminated."
A door slammed. A coup defanged.
In her penthouse, Oh Soo-jae read the alert. One minute later, Je-Hoon's phone vibrated with an encrypted message.
"Committee access attached. Observer seat is yours. Report 42nd floor, Monday 8 AM. Be Alexander Lee."
๐๐ฅ๐๐ง๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ: ๐๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐. ๐๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐๐๐: ๐๐ฃ๐๐ค๐ง๐ข๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ก + ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฎ๐๐๐ค๐ก๐ค๐๐๐๐๐ก. ๐๐ค ๐๐๐ง๐๐๐ฉ ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ง๐ค๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ. ๐๐๐จ๐ค๐ช๐ง๐๐ ๐๐ญ๐ฅ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ฉ๐ช๐ง๐: ๐ข๐๐ฃ๐๐ข๐๐ก.
Back in Mapo, Je-Hoon felt no thrill. Only the cold click of a perfect mechanism. He was inside the outer wall.
But the credentials glowing on his screen were not just a reward.
Marco. This seat. It's a new cage. A brighter spotlight.
๐ผ๐๐๐๐ง๐ข๐๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐. ๐๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฌ ๐ ๐ซ๐๐จ๐๐๐ก๐ ๐ฅ๐๐๐๐ ๐ค๐ฃ ๐๐๐ง ๐๐ค๐๐ง๐. ๐๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐ฃ-๐๐ช๐ฃ'๐จ ๐๐ก๐๐ค๐ง๐๐ฉ๐๐ข๐จ ๐๐ฉ ๐๐ค๐ง๐๐ฏ๐ค๐ฃ ๐พ๐๐ฅ๐๐ฉ๐๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก ๐๐ก๐๐ '๐ผ๐ก๐๐ญ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ง ๐๐๐' ๐๐ฃ 24-48 ๐๐ค๐ช๐ง๐จ. ๐๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐ง๐จ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ ๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฌ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ง๐๐๐ฉ, ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐จ๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ก, ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ก.
And the anchor? Yuna.
๐๐๐ ๐๐ช๐ข๐๐ฃ ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ค๐ง ๐ข๐ช๐จ๐ฉ ๐๐ ๐ฅ๐ง๐ค๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐. ๐๐ง๐ค๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐ข๐๐ฎ ๐ง๐๐ฆ๐ช๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ฃ๐๐. ๐ผ ๐๐๐ก๐๐ช๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐ ๐จ๐๐๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ง ๐จ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฉ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐๐ง๐๐ฉ๐ฎ.
Je-Hoon's hand tightened on the desk. The cost of the ascent was being tallied in real-time. Not in won, but in human connections he might have to sever.
He was no longer just a player in the shadows.
He had accepted a piece on the board.
And the board was now a battlefield drenched in dawn's early light.
---
[End of Episode 8]
[Status: First Commission Successfully Executed. Granted Access to Oh Group Inner Circle (Digital Transformation Committee).]
[Wealth: Unchanged, but Strategic Capital Immeasurably Increased.]
[Key Development: 'Alexander Lee' is now a known entity to Oh Soo-jae AND her rivals. Direct conflict with Horizon Capital/Min-jun is imminent.]
[Next Episode:????????]