The sun rose slowly over Seoul, casting golden light through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Jin's luxury apartment. He stood shirtless in the kitchen, abs chiseled, eyes calm, sipping a glass of freshly pressed juice. The apartment's AI assistant softly announced the time and weather. Everything was in motion.
Today was the day he would meet the world.
Jin's phone buzzed. Three appointments, three agencies—all elite. He didn't need to attend them all, but this wasn't about need.
It was about momentum.
He dressed with precision. A white button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to show forearms toned to perfection. Black tailored pants. Sleek watch. Hair styled naturally yet sharp. As he looked at his reflection, he studied the person he had become.
Not just handsome.
Undeniable.
He left the apartment without hesitation. On the elevator ride down, a young woman in a pencil skirt glanced at him, then again, unable to hide her interest. Jin gave a small nod—polite, distant. She blushed.
He said nothing. He didn't need to.
The first agency lobby was all glass and chrome. Young hopefuls sat nervously, scrolling through phones, adjusting clothes. Jin walked in like he belonged there. The receptionist blinked, then quickly straightened.
"Name?" she asked.
"Jin Park. 10 AM appointment."
She typed rapidly. "Yes, of course. They'll see you now."
He entered a sleek office where two executives and a photographer sat. The moment they looked up, their expressions changed—interest, then calculation.
They asked questions, took measurements, clicked photos. Jin moved with precision, confidence but never arrogance. Every expression he made was controlled. Not forced—learned.
They were impressed. Too impressed.
"We'd like to offer you a contract," one said. "Immediately."
Jin smiled lightly. "I still have two other appointments."
They understood. Power attracts power.
By evening, he had three offers. All lucrative. All fighting over him.
He chose the smallest one.
It surprised them—but Jin had a reason. The smaller agency had a young manager—Han Soojin. Mid-20s, smart, hungry, ambitious. She reminded Jin of himself in a way. She was also the only one who had spoken to him without treating him like a product.
And she had fire.
He liked fire.
Their first conversation was in a modest office filled with posters and coffee mugs.
"I don't understand," Soojin said. "We can't pay as much as the others. Why pick us?"
Jin leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. "Because you'll work harder. And I don't need money."
She studied him. "Then what do you want?"
His eyes didn't blink.
"Everything."
The next few weeks moved fast. Photoshoots. Commercials. Interviews. Jin was everywhere. Online magazines praised his face, his aura, his control. People speculated about his background, but Jin gave little away.
He was polite in every interview. Humble. Grateful.
But never weak.
One evening, after a shoot, Soojin drove him home.
"You know," she said, tapping the wheel, "you could be a global star. You're already trending in Japan."
Jin looked out the window. "It's just the beginning."
Then he turned to her. "You've been working hard. Take the weekend off."
She laughed. "And leave you to wander the industry alone?"
"I can take care of myself."
"I believe that," she said, smiling.
He smiled back. For a moment, it felt almost normal.
But nothing about Jin was normal.
That night, back in his apartment, he opened the black phone. AI status: stable. Abilities: dormant. Potential: unlimited.
He trained in secret. Language learning in minutes. Martial arts practice in virtual simulation. Business theory, investment models, medical knowledge—all uploading.
He moved like a human.
But he was more.
And though he was kind, generous, even charming—he did not forgive betrayal. When a photographer tried to slip something into Soojin's drink during a shoot party, Jin followed him silently outside.
No one ever saw that man again.
To the world, Jin was a rising star.
To those who crossed him, he was a ghost in the dark.
And the world had no idea what was coming.