Hyun-soo had always prided himself on being able to think clearly under pressure. Yet, as he sat alone in his penthouse, the city stretching out before him like a neon ocean, clarity felt like a distant memory. His world had become a labyrinth of moral ambiguity, and every path he considered seemed to lead to a dead end.
The message from Soo-jin still lingered on his phone, unaddressed, but it was Mi-jin's words that haunted him the most. *Come back to what's real.* She had begged him to return to the man he once was, but the question that gnawed at him now was: who was that man? Could he even remember anymore?
His hand hovered over the phone as if answering Soo-jin's message would mean sealing his fate. In a way, it already had. He knew she had more to tell him—more damning evidence, more dangerous truths about Soorin Corporation and the people pulling its strings. But with each new revelation, the walls around him grew higher, the stakes deadlier.
The decision to call her back felt like a final nail in the coffin. Hyun-soo took a deep breath, hit *dial*, and braced himself for the next storm.
---
Soo-jin met him in a small, dimly lit bar on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't the kind of place that screamed luxury or class; instead, it was the kind of nondescript venue that promised discretion. The moment he stepped inside, the smell of cheap cigarettes and spilled beer hit him like a wave, and he knew this was the kind of place where secrets went to die.
Soo-jin was waiting in a booth at the back, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun, her expression cold and unreadable as always. Her sharp eyes followed him as he approached, but there was a flicker of something in them—perhaps apprehension, maybe even fear.
"You came," she said, her voice barely rising above the ambient noise of the bar. It wasn't a question, more of an acknowledgment that they were both in too deep now to pretend otherwise.
Hyun-soo slid into the seat across from her. "What did you find out?"
Soo-jin didn't waste any time with pleasantries. She pulled out a small, inconspicuous flash drive from her coat pocket and placed it on the table between them.
"This," she said quietly, "is everything. Proof of your boss's dealings with the organized crime syndicates, proof of money laundering, illegal trades, and worse."
Hyun-soo stared at the flash drive as if it were a live grenade. He had suspected the worst for some time now, but seeing it laid out in front of him like this made it real in a way that made his stomach turn.
"How did you get this?" he asked, his voice low.
Soo-jin's eyes darkened. "Let's just say I have connections your boss doesn't know about. People on the inside, people who are as tired of being puppets as I am."
Her words hung in the air for a moment, and Hyun-soo realized she wasn't just talking about the corruption at Soorin. She was talking about them, about the games they had both been playing for too long.
"If what you're saying is true," he said, picking up the flash drive, "this could bring down Soorin. Ji-eun's family. Everyone."
Soo-jin nodded, her expression hardening. "Yes. But it won't be easy. You know that. These people don't go down without a fight. They have resources, connections, and they won't hesitate to destroy anyone who gets in their way. Including you."
For a moment, Hyun-soo considered walking out of the bar, tossing the flash drive into the nearest river, and pretending none of this was happening. But deep down, he knew there was no going back. If he did nothing, he'd be complicit in everything—Ji-eun's family's criminal empire, Soo-jin's dangerous games, and the slow unraveling of everything he thought he had built.
"What do you expect me to do?" he asked, the weight of the decision crushing him.
Soo-jin leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Expose them. Blow this wide open before the deal goes through. There are journalists, investigators who would kill for a story like this. If you act fast, you can bring them down before they tighten their grip on the company."
Hyun-soo's mind raced. It was a plan, but it wasn't simple. He couldn't just walk into the office the next day and hand this over to the authorities without consequences. There would be fallout. Major fallout. And he wasn't sure if he was ready to pay that price.
As if reading his thoughts, Soo-jin spoke again. "I know it's dangerous, Hyun-soo. But if you don't act, you'll be dragged down with them. Do you really want to be a part of this? Do you want to end up like them?"
Her question sliced through him like a knife, and he realized he didn't have an answer.
---
Later that night, Hyun-soo found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the flash drive. His thoughts were a chaotic mess—Soo-jin's plan, Ji-eun's warnings, Mi-jin's pleas, all swirling together until he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
Just as his mind began to spiral, his phone rang, snapping him back to the present. It was Ji-eun.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice tight.
"We need to talk," Ji-eun said, her tone as cold and businesslike as ever. "Meet me at the office in an hour."
He wanted to refuse, to tell her that he was done playing their games, but something in her voice gave him pause. She sounded…desperate. Not the cool, collected Ji-eun he was used to, but someone on the edge of something much larger.
Reluctantly, he agreed.
---
Hyun-soo arrived at Soorin's towering headquarters under the cover of darkness. The usually bustling corporate hub was eerily quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the city below. The empty hallways, devoid of the usual swarm of employees, only amplified the growing sense of dread inside him.
Ji-eun was waiting in his office, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression unusually tense.
"We're out of time," she said the moment he walked in, not even bothering with pleasantries. "My father's deal is going through tomorrow. It's worse than I thought—if this happens, the entire company will be under their control. It'll be a front for their operations, and we'll be powerless to stop it."
Hyun-soo took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had expected this, but hearing it laid out so plainly still made his stomach churn.
"You need to get out, Hyun-soo," Ji-eun said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you stay, you'll be implicated. You'll be dragged down with them."
He could hear the desperation in her voice now, the vulnerability she rarely let anyone see. And for the first time, he realized that she wasn't just worried about the company. She was worried about him.
"You can't stay here, Ji-eun," he said, taking a step toward her. "You know what your family is doing. You need to get out too."
But Ji-eun shook her head, her expression hardening once again. "I can't. I won't abandon my family. But you… you still have a choice. You don't have to go down with us."
The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging between them like a ticking clock.
Hyun-soo looked at her, at the woman he had once admired, maybe even loved in some twisted way, and realized that there was no easy way out of this. The choices before him were brutal and unforgiving—betray Ji-eun, betray Soo-jin, betray himself. No matter which path he took, there would be blood on his hands.
"I can't just walk away," he said, his voice cracking. "Not without trying to stop this."
Ji-eun's eyes softened for a moment, a flicker of something—perhaps admiration, perhaps sorrow—crossing her face. "Then be careful, Hyun-soo. Because if you make a move against my family, they won't let you walk away alive."
---
The next morning, as the sun began to rise over Seoul, Hyun-soo stood on the balcony of his penthouse, the flash drive still clutched tightly in his hand. He had made his decision.
He wasn't going to run. He wasn't going to hide.
He was going to fight.
And whatever happened next, he would face it head-on.