When they reached the west wing, Jiyeon's worst fears were realized. A crucial piece of equipment had malfunctioned, sending sparks flying and bringing work to a grinding halt. The workers stood around it, their faces pale with shock.
"What happened?" Yura demanded, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
One of the workers, a young man with wide eyes and trembling hands, stammered out an explanation. "I—I don't know, ma'am. It was working fine, and then it just... went haywire."
Jiyeon's mind raced as she surveyed the scene. This couldn't be a coincidence—not now, not when they were so close. Someone had done this, and they had done it on purpose.
"Get it fixed," Yura snapped, her voice cold as ice. "I don't care what it takes. We are not missing this deadline."
