The final bell rang like a sigh of release. Students spilled into the hallways, chattering, laughing, groaning about homework.
"See you tomorrow!" someone called.
Tae-Ho grinned as he and Jae-Suk made their way toward the gates, their backpacks bouncing lightly against their backs. "Man, I swear, that math test today tried to kill me."
"Kill you?" Jae-Suk scoffed. "You're acting like the test held a gun."
"It felt like it," Tae-Ho groaned, stretching dramatically. "I saw my life flash before my eyes halfway through question three."
Jae-Suk laughed, nearly tripping over a crack in the pavement. "That's because you spent last night watching that survival show instead of studying."
"Hey, research!" Tae-Ho said, feigning offense. "You never know when I might get lost in the woods. Or, you know, the classroom."
The two burst into laughter, earning a few curious looks from passing students.
Behind them, Jae-Hyun adjusted the strap of his backpack and smiled faintly at their banter. For a moment, he almost called out to them—but stopped when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He glanced down.Notification:New report from Mr. Oh — Hwaseong Dynamics Proposal
The humor around him dimmed. His eyes sharpened, fingers moving automatically to open the message.
He typed a quick reply: On my way.
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. The air smelled faintly of coffee and machine oil. A low hum pulsed through the floor—servers working in the rooms beyond the glass walls.
Jae-Hyun stepped out, his reflection gliding alongside him in the polished black glass. NovaSec was quiet today, eerily so. Efficiency in motion.
Mr. Oh was already waiting in his office, tablet in hand. The man's sleeves were rolled up, and fatigue shadowed his eyes, but his voice was steady. "You saw the report?"
Jae-Hyun nodded, closing the door behind him. "Hwaseong Dynamics. They're not sold yet."
"No, they're not." Mr. Oh's tone carried a faint irritation. "They're cautious—maybe too cautious. They're treating us like another disposable contractor."
Jae-Hyun leaned against his desk, arms crossed, posture easy but gaze sharp. "Good. That means they're nervous. And nervous clients are the easiest to convince."
Mr. Oh blinked. "How so?"
"They double-check everything. That gives us room to impress them at every step."
A pause. Then, a small smile tugged at Mr. Oh's mouth. "You really do think three moves ahead, don't you?"
"I have to," Jae-Hyun said simply. "We're building NovaSec's name from the ground up. One bad impression, and we're finished before we begin."
Mr. Oh nodded slowly. "So what's the plan?"
"I'll take this one myself."
"You?" Mr. Oh tilted his head. "It's a big operation, Jae-Hyun. You've got people trained for this."
"I know." Jae-Hyun's voice dropped a notch—steady, deliberate. "But reputation isn't built through delegation. I'll oversee every stage—assessment, implementation, security protocols. Every key logged, every access point tested."
Mr. Oh hesitated. He'd seen this side of Jae-Hyun before—focused, unsparing, impossible to sway. "Alright," he said finally. "What about the pricing? Do we quote low to hook them, or—"
"Five hundred million won."
The number hit the air like a weight.
Mr. Oh raised a brow. "Five hundred?"
Jae-Hyun's lips curved faintly, though his tone stayed even. "They can afford it. More importantly, they need to afford it. Their entire network is one vulnerability away from collapse. You can tell when a company's desperate to protect itself—their technical director practically screamed it through the screen."
Mr. Oh chuckled. "You were watching him?"
Jae-Hyun's eyes flicked toward the corner of his desk where multiple monitors quietly displayed scrolling code and snippets of system diagnostics. "He left his webcam light on longer than he thought. His team's network signal flickered halfway through the call. I mapped part of their infrastructure before he even ended the meeting."
Mr. Oh stared. "You what?"
Jae-Hyun smiled slightly, tone casual. "Just enough to understand where their weaknesses lie. You don't win clients by guessing—you win them by knowing their fears before they speak them."
For a moment, silence filled the office—only the soft hum of machines and the steady rhythm of Jae-Hyun's confidence.
Then, Mr. Oh laughed quietly. "You're something else, Jae-Hyun."
"Let's hope Hwaseong Dynamics agrees," Jae-Hyun said, turning toward the window. Below, Seoul's skyline shimmered in the fading light—glass towers catching gold from the sun. "Prepare the draft. Keep it tight and clean. I'll review it tonight."
"Got it."
Mr. Oh turned to leave but paused at the door. "One day," he said lightly, "you'll have to tell me how a high schooler learned to run a corporation like a war strategist."
Jae-Hyun glanced back, eyes glinting with quiet humor. "One day," he echoed.
After finalizing the conversation, Jae-Hyun left NovaSec, the afternoon sun reflecting off the city streets as he made his way home.
- - -
Meanwhile, at the study academy, the atmosphere was focused and tense.
Rows of desks were neatly aligned, and students hunched over their notes, silently solving problems or reading, the occasional scratch of a pen breaking the quiet. Conversation was rare, limited to whispered questions about formulas or vocabulary.
Jae-Suk hunched over his notebook, staring blankly at the same equation for the third time. Numbers blurred. His focus? Gone.
He leaned sideways toward Tae-Ho. "Hey."
Tae-Ho didn't look up. "No."
"You don't even know what I was gonna say."
"You were gonna ask about Jae-Hyun again," Tae-Ho whispered back.
Jae-Suk paused. "...Okay, maybe you do know."
Tae-Ho sighed. "You've been thinking about it all day. What's up with you?"
"You ever wonder why Jae-Hyun is always so secretive?" Jae-Suk began. "I mean, it's like he's always… hiding something."
Tae-Ho leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Secretive? You think so? I've noticed it too… but he's just quiet, that's all. Doesn't mean anything."
Jae-Suk's pencil tapped restlessly against his desk. "I just… don't get it. My dad calls him into his office all the time. Alone. They talk for ages. And when I ask, Jae-Hyun just smiles like I'm some clueless kid."
"Maybe you are."
Jae-Suk shot him a glare. "You're not helping."
Tae-Ho grinned. "I'm serious. Maybe it's just business or something boring. Not everything's a conspiracy."
Jae-Suk shook his head, frowning. "No, it's more than that. And Jae-Hyun never explains anything, even when I ask. It's… it's weird. Makes me wonder if we really know him."
Tae-Ho shrugged, trying to reassure his friend. "We don't know everything about anyone. Doesn't mean he's untrustworthy. Don't read too much into it. He's our friend. Your dad knows him. That's all. Trust them. Just… let it be for now."
Jae-Suk leaned back, crossing his arms. "I don't know… It's just… sometimes I wonder if we can really trust him. I mean, he's always so secretive, and my dad… well, my dad doesn't talk about it either."
Tae-Ho waved his hand dismissively. "You're overthinking. Seriously. Jae-Hyun's not going to do anything to hurt you or your family. Just ignore it."
I guess," Jae-Suk muttered, though the doubt lingered in his expression. "Still, it bugs me that I can't know what's really going on."
"Then ask your dad," Tae-Ho suggested. "He'll tell you what he can. But don't start doubting your friend over it. That'll only mess things up."
"Yeah, I guess. But then why does my dad trust him more than he trusts me?"
That earned Tae-Ho's attention. He turned his chair slightly. "You really think it's that serious?"
"I don't know," Jae-Suk muttered. "But my dad's not the type to waste time on people who don't matter."
"Then maybe Jae-Hyun matters," Tae-Ho said simply.
Jae-Suk frowned. "That's exactly what worries me."
The teacher's voice suddenly cut through the air. "Tae-Ho. Question six."
The sudden attention snapped both boys upright. All eyes turned to Tae-Ho, who froze for a fraction of a second before stammering. "Uh… right… um…"
A soft chuckle rolled through the classroom. Tae-Ho's cheeks reddened as he glanced at Jae-Suk, who tried unsuccessfully to hide a grin. The teacher's brows furrowed slightly. "Tae-Ho, please focus. I need an answer."
"I… I'm sorry," Tae-Ho said quickly, fumbling for the correct response. His fingers tapped nervously on the desk. ""It's… uh… twenty-four?"" he finally managed.
A beat of silence. Then, the teacher nodded. "Correct. Next time, pay attention before I call your name."
As the class chuckled again, Tae-Ho sank lower in his chair. Jae-Suk leaned over. "Twenty-four, huh? Lucky guess or divine intervention?"
Tae-Ho groaned. "I hate you."
"Love you too, partner."
The laughter that followed was quiet but genuine—the kind that cracked tension just enough to breathe. Yet even as he smiled, Jae-Suk's thoughts drifted back to Jae-Hyun.
To the calmness that never wavered.To the secrets that never slipped.
When the bell finally rang, the class scattered, students chatting about dinner and cram schedules. Tae-Ho slung his bag over his shoulder. "Coming?"
"In a sec."
Jae-Suk lingered by the window, watching the streetlights flicker on one by one outside. His reflection stared back at him, frowning slightly.
"You're hiding something, Jae-Hyun," he murmured. "And I'm gonna find out what."