The conference room seemed a bit colder than normal today. That long table, all polished up but kind of dull now, just sat there like some stage after the show's over, waiting around for whatever comes next. Renner was up at the head, standing straight enough, but his face looked pulled tight, strained. He had these executives around him, folks who'd jumped in over the last year on this hunt that started out as big plans and turned into something obsessive, all about figuring out who the company's hidden owner really was.
Things stayed pretty quiet in that last meeting. Nothing dramatic, no big reveals or anything. Just this worn-out hush from people who'd chased down every possible clue and come up empty, only shadows left behind. The lights up top buzzed a little, filling in where talk had dried up.
One of the directors moved around in his chair, frustration showing in the creases around his mouth. He knocked on this sealed folder right in front of him, the sound cutting sharp through the quiet. "The anonymous setup is rock solid," he said, voice flat. "It's all layered through different shells, legal ones, companies overseas holding stuff, records of ownership bouncing around. Whoever put this together knew their business, exactly. Every path just stops cold, or loops right back to the start, even worse."
People murmured yeah, that sounds right. Then somebody else chimed in, "Even if we keep pushing, it's pointless. Those barriers didn't pop up quick. They're on purpose, been there a while, sealed up good."
Renner didn't jump in right away. He'd gotten good at hiding letdowns, but this one hit heavier, more like it was his own thing. His eyes stayed on that frosted glass wall along one side. Outside, the building kept going, normal routine stuff. He could picture the floor down where Minjae worked, all casual like always. To the rest of them, it was just office space, another level. But for Renner, that's where his questions kept dropping off without any real answers.
After the quiet stretched out, he let out a breath through his nose and said, measured like, "Then we let it go."
Some heads turned his way, surprise flashing in their looks.
"But—" one director started, couldn't hold back the pushback.
"We let it go," Renner said again, stronger now, shutting it down. His tone wasn't mad, just done with it. "Whoever this person is, they've shown they want to stay out of sight. And maybe that alone time ought to get some respect."
His words hung there a bit in the room. Nobody pushed back more. No heated arguments, nothing like the fire from when this all kicked off. Just this empty quiet of giving up, with some looks passed around and small nods. It was like admitting without saying, the chase ended, and they didn't win.
One at a time, the executives picked up their folders, tablets, pens, whatever, and headed out. Chairs scraped on the floor for a second, breaking the silence, then it all went back to the soft close of doors.
Renner hung back by himself. Now alone, his shoulders dropped a little, first time in hours. His gaze went back to the frosted glass, not really seeing the blurry movement outside, but thinking of that one face, the person who didn't seem caught up in any of this mess.
Minjae.
He pressed his lips tight, face hard to read as usual. To everyone else, the whole thing was wrapped up, mystery off limits. But Renner's gut wouldn't drop it that easy. There was this something about Minjae's low-key way, how he stayed right in the middle without ever coming out front.
"But I'll keep an eye on things," Renner said quietly to himself. It wasn't threatening or anything, not even a real vow. More like something true he couldn't shake. With that, he turned around, grabbed his notes, and walked out of the room finally.
Downstairs, everything felt way different. Minjae was at his desk, shoulders easy, staring at the screen's steady light. If you didn't know, he'd look the same as ever, focused, working steady, a touch distant. But he sensed it. This change in the feel of things.
For months now, he'd been under this unnamed pressure, like some weight you couldn't point to, pressing on the sides of his routine. He'd noticed it in stares that hung too long, questions asked all casual but not really, that quiet suspicion following him around. Now though, for the first time, that heaviness eased up, even if just a touch.
Around him, the floor kept its usual beat: printers humming, papers shuffling, laughs popping from folks talking by the break area now and then. To others, plain old Friday. To Minjae, it was like the air had let go a bit.
His screen flashed, a message popping up. He opened it.
Seori:"Lunch with us? Yura found this new spot. Yuri's in, so no dodging."
He just looked at it for a second, a little warmth creeping into his calm face. Then he typed slow.
Minjae:"You lead."
Once sent, he leaned back, breathing out soft. Up there, some dark part of the story had shut down, all quiet, no big deal, nobody really seeing. But here, in the gentle everyday sounds, fresh parts were starting to open up.