Taehyun spoke easily, outlining the project's flow in Japan. Timelines, deliverables, and the cultural expectations they'd need to navigate. His voice carried a quiet authority, the kind that drew attention without trying.
Junho followed, his tone measured but firm. "This project isn't just about execution. It's about positioning the company where it matters ,strategically, politically, and in the public eye. We can't afford missteps."
Daejin set his chopsticks down with a small click, leaning back slightly. "Tomorrow, we're off to Kyoto. Schedule's set, rooms are booked, reports are done. All that's left is for us to show up, do it right, and make sure every step we take there works for us — not against us."
Taehyun nodded, his voice even. "I'll be coordinating directly with the local team once we land. Logistics, equipment checks, and security sweeps will run on a tight clock, so I'll need confirmations from everyone before each phase starts. No delays."
Hanna took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes gleaming faintly. "Hm… sounds intense. But the more I hear, the more I want to be involved. It's all quite fascinating."
Taehyun gave a small nod, his tone professional. "If you're that curious, maybe you should do a live interview while we're there. It could work in our favor…media coverage straight from Kyoto, highlighting both the project and the company."
Hanna's smile widened. "What a good idea…" Her gaze shifted to Seri. "And seri ? You're coming too?"
Before Seri could open her mouth, Bora spoke through a mouthful of rice. "Of course she's coming. Who else can spin PR miracles while dodging shady scandals and impossible deadlines?" She took a dramatic sip of soup. "She's like our office Marvel hero, minus the cape. Though honestly, she could pull it off."
Daejin chuckled. "She'd probably redesign it for better crisis management."
"Sounds… eventful," Hanna murmured, her smirk sharpening.
Taehyun tilted his head toward Seri, teasing. "Don't worry, Hanna-ssi. Japan's a big place. Plenty of room for interesting stories."
"Exactly!" Bora cut in, brightening. "I've already bought matching yukata sets, one floral, one power look. I'm so ready."
Hanna's brow arched. "Matching with who?"
Bora blinked innocently. "Well… depends who's single by then."
The table rippled with laughter, everyone except Hanna, who lifted her tea with a measured sip, her eyes still locked on Seri.
Junho cleared his throat, his tone calm but commanding enough to pull the air taut. "Let's not forget… this isn't just about the Kyoto project."
Silence slipped in. Hanna lowered her glass. Bora froze mid-chew. Seri picked up a piece of sushi, chewing slowly as if entirely unfazed by the tension wrapping around the table. Taehyun leaned back, watching.
"We also need to prepare for the Gala Night," Junho continued. "That means collecting data, confirming attendance, and finalizing both internal profiles and external presentation."
Daejin nodded quickly. "Especially aligning PR narratives with guests, sponsors, and potential partners. It's how we position Kang Corporation on an international stage."
"So… not just powerpoints and charts," Bora smirked. "We're dressing to impress too?"
"Prepare what needs to be done," Junho said. "Once we land, there won't be time for second-guessing."
Junho's tone stayed even as he continued.
"We'll finalize the list by tomorrow. Only those with clear assignments are boarding the flight."
Seri lifted her cup, the rising steam brushing against her skin. She took a slow, unhurried sip before placing it back on the table with careful precision, her gaze resting somewhere beyond the conversation. Across from her, Taehyun leaned back in his chair, arms folded, his eyes sweeping the table like a quiet sentinel, catching every unspoken current beneath the surface.
Elsewhere in Kyoto, the basement chamber of an old ryokan breathed with a silence that felt older than the building itself. The air was cold and still, carrying the faint, earthy scent of tatami that had absorbed decades of secrets. On the walls, faded calligraphy scrolls hung beside glowing surveillance monitors, their pale light shifting restlessly across the floor. Shadows crawled with every flicker, as though the room itself was alive and listening. It was the kind of place where silence felt more dangerous than sound.
Footsteps approached, steady and unhurried. The man from the Seoul ambush stepped into view, now wearing a black hoodie in place of the torn grey one. Dust still clung to the fabric, and a faint tear marked the shoulder. He stopped in front of a closed shoji screen, his shadow stretching across the paper panels.
A low voice from within called for him to enter.
Sliding the screen aside, he stepped into a larger chamber. At the center sat Takeda Seiji, nearly seventy yet carrying the presence of someone untouched by time. His posture was perfectly straight, his gaze sharp enough to hold a man still without a word. The dim light above caught the lines of his face, illuminating eyes that held no warmth.
On the low table before him lay a spread of photographs. They were printed in black and white, the grain catching on details of a Seoul street where six men in suits lay beaten. The pavement beneath them was cracked, marked with thin trails of blood. One man's eyes were still open in defeat. At the corner of one image, a small timestamp glowed faintly.
It was the same photograph Seri had taken moments before leaving the scene, sent with a short message. More coming. Face the cost.
Takeda's hand rested on the image. His fingertips traced the edge slowly, almost as though he could read the memory of the loss from the texture of the paper.
"She is not one of ours," the hoodie man said quietly. "She interfered."
Takeda's eyes lifted from the photograph. "You let sixth of my men fall. And sent me a souvenir?"
""She is working with him in Seoul," the hoodie man said evenly. "A PR. She is… like the one people have been talking about, sir. Her name is Im Seri."
Takeda leaned back slightly, repeating the name under his breath, as though rolling it across his tongue to test its weight. A faint smile curved his lips before it deepened into a low, deliberate laugh.
"Im Seri…" His eyes sharpened, the sound of his laughter fading into something colder. "She is Takamine Aira."
That was Im Seri's real name. Takeda knew it well. He had known her since she was a little girl, before the name Seri ever existed.
From the side, Yamada Renji stepped forward carrying a black folder. He was Takeda's strategist, a man with a mind as precise as a blade. Without a word, he placed the folder on the table and opened it.
Inside were more photographs and documents. One was a surveillance shot of Kang Junho, sharp despite the distance. Another was a slightly blurred image of Seri walking into the headquarters of Kang Corporation. Beneath them lay a map of the Kyoto gala venue, marked with entrance routes, and a neatly printed schedule.
"She is tied to the Korean team running Project Asagiri," Yamada explained. "They are coming to Kyoto. Kang Junho will be there. He is the asset."
Takeda's attention moved from the photographs to the map. Yamada continued, his tone unchanging. "There is talk of a soft reveal during the gala. Something involving brain technology."
The folder closed with a quiet snap beneath Takeda's hand. "Then we act before they make that reveal."
He rose to his full height, the movement deliberate and unhurried. The hoodie man lowered his head instinctively.
"She is Takamine Aira."
That was Im Seri's real name. Takeda knew it well. He had known her since she was a little girl, before the name Seri ever existed.
"When they arrive," Takeda said, his voice a measured chill, "if she gets in the way again… handle it. I want the asset. Not a circus."
His gaze narrowed, the flicker of the surveillance monitors catching in his eyes. "Be careful with the woman," he added, the weight in his tone leaving no room for doubt. "She is no ordinary challenger. Take him whenever she is not around."
The quiet in the room deepened, as if the walls themselves understood the danger in his words.
Back at the Japanese restaurant in Seoul, the clinking of chopsticks and the soft hum of conversation ebbed as plates emptied and teacups were quietly refilled. For a fleeting moment, the table held a rare calm, wrapped in the warm scent of soy, grilled fish, and freshly steamed rice.
Bora stretched with a dramatic sigh. "If Japanese meals are always this fancy, I should prep my stomach. Maybe fast for a week before Kyoto."
A few chuckles followed, but her grin sharpened. "Oh…speaking of Kyoto, did you hear the latest office buzz? Not about sushi. About Lee Ryun."
The slight stillness in the air told her she had everyone's attention. "Mmm, yes. Apparently there's another scandal. Blurred women photo with him, hotel rooftops… the group chat is on fire."
Taehyun arched a brow. "Blurred photos? I thought pixel drama died in 2010."
Bora pouted like a starlet caught in the rain. "Not that I care, but what if I'm mistaken for the mystery girl next time?" She batted her lashes shamelessly.
"Only if you start lurking on rooftops in sunglasses and a trench coat," Daejin muttered.
Laughter rippled. Seri took a sip of her tea, her expression calm but unreadable. Junho glanced at her briefly, then at Hanna, who had just set her chopsticks down with deliberate care.
"Let's not spread rumors," Junho said, voice even but firm. "It has nothing to do with this project."
Seri's gaze flicked toward him, catching how easily he shielded Hanna without naming her.