The spacecraft approached silently toward a housing complex on the outskirts of Incheon. The building was in a state of disrepair, with deep cracks running through the walls revealing dark patches of water damage. The paint, which might have once been white, was peeling away in large flakes, exposing concrete corroded by time.
"Well, this is the place," Madame announced, her metallic voice taking on a neutral tone as her fingers glided precisely across the holographic control panel.
"Let's engage stealth mode," she continued, adjusting various controls with fluid movements. "We don't want to draw unnecessary attention in a residential area."
A veil of translucent light gradually enveloped the ship, like crystal-clear water flowing over its surface. The vessel became increasingly transparent until it completely merged with the blue-gray afternoon sky.
Now imperceptible to human eyes, the ship descended smoothly, its propulsion systems operating in absolute silence. Not even the leaves on nearby trees stirred with its approach. It was as if the laws of physics themselves had been suspended—no air resistance, no displacement of mass.
With an almost imperceptible touch, the ship landed on the building's rooftop. The engines released a soft sigh as they powered down, like a final breath before complete silence. A side door slid upward with a pneumatic hiss, revealing the illuminated interior of the cabin.
Below the door, floating steps materialized—rectangular plates of an unknown metal emitting a pulsating emerald green glow. There were no visible supports; each step simply existed in mid-air, defying gravity.
Adam narrowed his eyes, analyzing the structure with scientific skepticism. 'There must be some kind of force field,' he reasoned, resisting the childish impulse to wave his hand beneath the steps to confirm his theory. After all, he was a sophisticated billionaire, not some easily impressed teenager.
Park was the first to descend, moving with the confidence of someone who used this technology daily. Adam followed close behind, trying to mimic the other's nonchalance, but too aware of the emptiness beneath his feet to appear completely at ease. Madame came last, sealing the ship behind them.
"Do you have any prior information about the ticket holder, or just the location?" Adam asked as he stepped onto the cracked concrete of the rooftop, relieved to feel something solid and familiar beneath his feet again.
"Initially we only had the location," Madame replied, adjusting her technological visor. She cast an enigmatic look at Adam, a half-smile forming at the corner of her lips. "But with our technology, we managed to discover... additional information."
There was something in that look that instantly put Adam on alert.
"Does that bother you? Mr. Five Inches Taller?" Park's voice cut through the air like a razor, his monotone delivery making the question even more disconcerting.
The words hit Adam like a punch to the gut. He spun sharply toward Park, his eyes widening in genuine shock. An intense heat rose from his neck to his ears as his mind processed the meaning of those words. They had discovered his obscure past.
Madame, observing Adam's mortified expression, couldn't contain an amused smile. Her eyes gleamed behind her technological visor as she decided to join in the teasing.
"My favorite is: 'Meet a goth girl in your area for just $5.99,'" she commented with a melodiously provocative voice. "Very creative of you, Adam."
'Game over,' he thought, feeling his carefully constructed persona of mysterious and sophisticated billionaire crumble like a house of cards.
Adam cleared his throat, trying to recover some dignity. "Who doesn't have a past they're not proud of, right?" He forced a laugh, running his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture that didn't match his usual composure. "Those were tough times before my first million."
Then, seizing the opportunity to change the subject, he pointed to the access door to the building. "Well, speaking of questionable pasts... who exactly is this next ticket holder we're meeting? Any information I should know before we go down?"
"His name is Seo Min-gyu," Madame replied, her tone now completely serious. "And unlike you, Adam... he doesn't have such an interesting past."
Park assumed a more formal posture as he began to narrate the story of the second golden ticket holder.
"Seo Min-gyu was born in a busy district of Incheon. Only child of a literature teacher and a civil servant from the Department of Transportation."
His fingers slid across the holographic screen projecting a file with information and images of the teenager. Adam noticed that their filing system was incredibly detailed—there were even school records and browsing history.
"Apparently, he dedicates most of his free time to reading something called 'manhwas'—Korean comic books," continued Park, furrowing his brow as he read. "The rest of the time, he consumes short videos on online entertainment platforms."
Adam blinked several times, processing the information. His face gradually contorted into an expression of absolute disbelief.
"That's it?" he asked, his voice rising with each syllable. "Doesn't the ticket choose the most talented? The exceptional ones? How the hell was an average teenager chosen for something so..." he gestured broadly at the invisible ship and his two alien companions, "...important?"
Madame Jae-hee observed Adam with an expression that mixed disappointment and disapproval. Her shoulders visibly tensed beneath her technological suit. As a heroine in her world, she possessed not only extraordinary powers but also elevated morals and an unshakeable sense of justice.
She stepped forward, her erect posture radiating natural authority. The late afternoon light reflected off her visor, creating an almost supernatural effect as she faced Adam.
"You can't judge a book by its cover, Adam," she declared, her voice taking on that inspirational tone that seemed straight out of a superhero speech. "I bet he's someone with extraordinary qualities that haven't had the opportunity to manifest yet. After all," she slightly raised her chin, placing her hands on her hips in a classic heroine pose, "the golden ticket doesn't make mistakes. I believe in him."
Adam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Madame's unwavering conviction was admirable but also irritatingly naive for someone who had lived in the corporate world like he had.
"Then let's find out what he's doing," suggested Park with a hint of interest he usually didn't possess.
Park removed a metallic spherical object from the inner pocket of his jacket, approximately the size of a golf ball. Adam watched, fascinated, as the silver surface reflected the sunlight, noting a black concavity on one side that vaguely resembled a camera lens.
Park casually tossed the sphere upward. The object hovered in the air for a second before emitting a pulsating red glow and beginning to float autonomously, as if it had a life of its own.
Next, he took out a flat disc from the same pocket and threw it on the ground between them. Immediately, the disc projected a three-dimensional image in the air—a live transmission from the sphere's perspective.
"Epsilon class surveillance drone," Park explained, noticing Adam's questioning look. "Invisible to the human eye and completely silent. Perfect for reconnaissance."
It then flew toward Seo Min's window.
Adam watched the transmission while Madame approached, visibly torn between her curiosity and her principles.
"Disciple," she reprimanded Park in a tone that tried to sound severe but failed miserably. "It's not ethical to spy on others' privacy without good reason."
Despite her words, her eyes remained fixed on the projection, betraying her genuine interest. Adam noticed the contradiction, and a subtle smile formed on his lips. 'So even the intergalactic heroine has her hypocrisies.'
The image in the projection finally stabilized, revealing the interior of the room. Adam leaned forward, curious to see the mysterious second holder of the golden ticket.
What the camera revealed was a chubby teenager wearing pajamas printed with small yellow bananas. His straight black hair was long enough to cover his ears and part of his neck, and thick square-framed glasses rested on his nose. There was nothing particularly remarkable about his appearance.
The room, however, told a much more interesting story. It was a small, cramped space, dominated by a double bed that occupied almost half the area. A simple wardrobe stood against the wall next to the door, and a desk with a computer was positioned in front of the bed.
What really caught the attention, though, were the walls—every available inch was covered with posters of anime and manhwa characters. The collection was impressively diverse: girls in swimsuits, ranging from lolis to mature women, dominant male protagonists in dramatic poses, CEOs in suits, shadowy necromancers, muscular heroes, martial arts cultivators—practically every possible cliché of the genre was represented on the walls.
His bed was covered with a sheet featuring two men standing back-to-back, one dressed in white and the other in black—it looked like BL. And, as the centerpiece of this shrine to otaku culture, a dakimakura—a full-body pillow with the image of a girl dressed as a maid with cat ears—rested against the headboard.
"This is..." Park began, clearly trying to find words to describe what they were seeing.
"A teenager's room," Adam completed, recognizing the scene. "Pretty typical for an otaku."
At that moment, Seo Min-gyu had his back to the window, facing his closed bedroom door. His hands were positioned behind his back in a pose that tried to appear imposing.
Suddenly, music started playing in the room—if it could be called music. It was a mixture of distorted electronic sounds, heavy beats, and manipulated samples in an aggressive rhythm.
"Is that PHONK?" Adam muttered, recognizing the music genre that had gone viral on short video platforms. He covered his mouth with his hand, an expression of comic horror forming on his face. "Oh no, I know exactly what's going to happen now."
When the music reached its climax, the teenager ran his hand through his hair in a dramatic gesture and let out a laugh that was meant to be evil but sounded more like a teenager trying to imitate a cartoon villain.
"Hahahahaha! You think you could kill me with your insignificant power?"
He spun on his heels with an exaggerated expression of confidence, facing an invisible enemy that was apparently before him. With theatrical gestures, he dusted off imaginary dirt from his banana pajamas.
"Pathetic," he muttered, raising his chin in a pose of absolute superiority. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the wall, as if observing an already defeated adversary on its knees.
Taking advantage of the music's crescendo, he dramatically extended his arm, pointing at his imaginary enemy. His face assumed a cold, calculated expression, like that of an anime protagonist at the decisive moment of a battle.
"Die," he pronounced in a low, controlled tone.
Then, with the same unwavering confidence, he walked to his bed and picked up the dakimakura, embracing it with surprising tenderness.
"I told you I would save you, didn't I?" he murmured to the pillow, his voice now soft and protective, completely different from the threatening tone of seconds ago.
"..."
"..."
"..."
A heavy silence fell over the rooftop as the three observers processed what they had just witnessed. Park seemed genuinely confused. Madame blinked repeatedly, as if trying to reconcile her heroic vision of the ticket holder with the reality before her.
Adam finally broke the silence, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and a desire to die.
"I think he believes he's in an edit..."
Madame and Park stared at him with identical expressions of perplexity.
"And this," Adam continued with a resigned sigh, "is apparently Earth's second greatest talent."