The restaurant was quiet in the expensive way — soft music under the air, staff who never seemed to rush, and conversations that never rose above a murmur.
Behind a sliding oak partition sat a private room. No sign. No reservation list. It only opened when someone said the right name.
Inside, Mr. Hwang paced. He kept straightening his jacket, smoothing his hair, then doing it again. Being summoned by people like this didn't leave room for sleep.
The door slid open.
A woman stepped in, one hand still on the handle, composed. Dark blazer, neat bun, expression pleasant enough to make him nervous.
"Mr. Hwang," she greeted. "Thank you for coming on time."
He bowed quickly. "Of course. I'm honored you—"
She gestured to the seat. "Sit. Nerves are easier to manage when you're not swaying."
He sat.
She placed a thin folder on the table but didn't open it yet. "I've read your record. Theater. Dramas. Impersonation. You take direction well, and you blend."
Her eyes met his. Calm. Assessing.
"We need someone who blends."
"Blends where?" he asked before thinking.
A small smile. "That depends on how convincing you are."
She slid the folder forward. He opened it. NovaSec's name stamped in clean black ink. Headshots. Brief notes. Schedules.
"You will visit this company tomorrow," she said. "As a wealthy client. Ask about their leadership. Investors. Partners."
He frowned. "Won't they find that suspicious?"
"They're supposed to." She leaned back. "We want to see if they deflect, stall, or panic."
"And if they shut me down?"
"You insist politely." Her tone didn't match the word. "Privileged men are used to answers."
"And if they refuse again?"
"You come back the next day." She reached into a side folder and placed down a supplier uniform. "This time you're delivering equipment. New name. New tone. Casual questions. Complain about paperwork. People bond over paperwork."
He swallowed. "Two roles?"
"Possibly more." She tapped the table. "Our interest is in their reactions, not your comfort."
A waiter entered, silent, poured water, left. Mr. Hwang drank like he'd forgotten how.
"And if they catch on?" he asked quietly.
Her smile didn't change. "Then you've never heard of us."
He stared.
"And if they don't?" he asked.
"You'll be compensated," she replied simply. "More, depending on the quality of what you bring back."
He nodded slowly. His fingers kept twisting the edge of the folder.
She observed it. "Nervousness is fine," she said. "Fear means you understand the stakes. Panic is the problem."
"Right…" he murmured.
She leaned forward, elbows on the table. "You're acting like you might run. Please reassure me you're not about to ruin both our afternoons."
"No!" he said quickly. "No, I'm— I'll do it."
"Good," she said, relieved on the surface, though her eyes remained still. "Because we dislike hiring twice. Replacements get messy."
He wasn't sure if she was joking. He hoped she was.
She handed over a pen. "Learn your aliases tonight. Make them feel lived in. People can smell cardboard identities."
He took it carefully, as though it might break.
"One more thing," she added.
He looked up.
"If anyone at NovaSec looks calm? Really calm?" A small breath of a laugh. "Treat them carefully. Calm people have already done the math."
A chill feathered up his arms.
She stood. "We'll be watching."
Not encouraging. Just… stated.
"Wait," he said before he could stop himself. "And if nothing goes wrong?"
She paused, hand on the door. "Then we find new concerns. Success is just another problem."
She stepped out.
The door slid closed with a soft click.
Mr. Hwang exhaled slowly, pressing his palms into his knees. He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath.
The music outside picked up again.
Expensive quiet returned.
The night air outside the lush apartment tasted metallic. Streetlights cast long, uneasy shadows, and the city moved like it was minding its own business a little too well.
Mr. Hwang tugged at his cuffs and forced his hands to stop shaking. He rehearsed his persona under his breath — tone, posture, the exact cadence of arrogance rich men used when complaining about nothing.
An actor's heartbeat was never meant to be this loud.
By morning, the mirror smiled back with too much makeup and a suit worth more than last month's rent. He adjusted the watch on his wrist — subtle, gold, enough arrogance to buy credibility — then slid into the busy current of the street.
NovaSec's tower cut up the skyline like a ruler dividing the city.
Inside, the lobby looked like a luxury clinic for billionaires. Marble floors so polished they caught reflections like water. A soft hum of hidden ventilation. Tasteful plants — real, and genetically the same height. Quiet was curated here; footsteps arrived muted. Even the air smelled calibrated.
The receptionist looked up. "Good morning. Do you have an appointment?"
"Kim Seung-min," he said smoothly, the alias gliding out. "Representative for Luxbridge Capital. We're exploring integration solutions for high-security data environments. Possible long-term investment discussion."
Investment. Integration.
Both vague. Both real-sounding.
"Yes, Mr. Kim," she replied, tapping her screen with minimal movement. "You're expected."
No smile. No suspicion. Only air-conditioned calm.
"Please follow me."
Mr. Oh appeared as if he'd been standing just behind the corner. Like a man who lived inside spreadsheets and secrets. He offered a hand.
"Mr. Kim. I'm Oh Min-Jae. CEO of NovaSec."
"A pleasure," Hwang said, bowing slightly. "Thank you for accommodating me on short notice."
"Time is as expensive as trust," Mr. Oh replied. "We invest carefully."
A simple sentence. Already fencing.
He led the way — steady pace. Employees passed by with coffee and tablets, talking quietly about algorithmic latency and encryption audits. Nobody paid the visitor too much attention.
They reached a glass-lined meeting lounge with a soft hum of ventilation and a view of the city.
Tea waited on a tray. Steam curled upward like a ribbon.
Mr. Oh gestured politely. "Please."
They sat.
Hwang accepted the tea, pretending not to notice the weight of three cameras embedded subtly into the upper corner of the room. The tea was fragrant — expensive, pure — a courtesy that doubled as leverage.
"So," Mr. Oh said, folding one leg over the other. "What can NovaSec help you with today?"
"We're considering redirecting part of our portfolio to companies specializing in post-quantum infrastructure," he began. "NovaSec is… impressive. We'd like to know who's leading innovation here."
"Leadership is collaborative," Mr. Oh said, pouring tea. "Titles are noise. Results matter."
Hwang chuckled politely. "Investors usually like knowing whose hands the wheel is in."
"Investors who need names don't understand security," Mr. Oh replied gently. "If a founder's face becomes public, attacks target the person instead of the system."
He handed over a cup.
Hwang sipped. It tasted expensive and quiet.
"I see. And funding? Such rapid expansion — it suggests very confident backers."
"Our backers prefer results over credit."
"There must be mutual benefit."
"There is," Mr. Oh agreed. "We stay alive. They stay profitable."
Hwang blinked. Dark joke? Hard to tell.
He tried a different angle.
"Our firm is curious about your data acquisition pipelines. Which agencies regulate you?"
"None," Mr. Oh said without blinking. "Regulators often misinterpret innovation as danger."
"Mm." He made a thoughtful noise. "And if pressure came from governmental direction? Hypothetically."
"Oh," Mr. Oh said, as if discussing weather, "we would document the interference, leak it carefully, and watch public outrage eat the problem."
Silence. Tea steam curled.
Mr. Hwang's throat tightened.
"But that's hypothetical," Mr. Oh added softly.
"Of course."
"And your hiring," he tried next. "Very specialized staff. Hard to recruit at this scale. How do you attract talent?"
"We don't," Mr. Oh said. "They come to us."
"That's unusual."
"No," Mr. Oh corrected. "That's gravity."
It was delivered casually, like a fact of physics.
Hwang forced a chuckle. "You're confident."
"No," Mr. Oh smiled gently. "We're prepared."
The subtle threat floated between the cups.
He shifted tactics.
"Our interest also touches on partnerships. Political entities. Defense contractors. Rumors say NovaSec is being courted aggressively."
"Rumors," Mr. Oh said, "are needy children. We don't feed them."
"And if someone insisted on seeing internal structures?" Hwang pressed lightly. "Names, roles. Resource flow."
"Then we would decline politely," Mr. Oh answered. "Repeated insistence?" He stirred his tea absent-mindedly. "We'd escort them out."
"With security?"
"With courtesy first," he said. "Security if courtesy fails."
Hwang's pen slipped in his fingers.
"So you're… selective."
"Selective is inefficient," Mr. Oh replied thoughtfully. "We are exact."
One of the cameras in the ceiling adjusted—barely. Enough to notice only if you were looking for it.
He swallowed.
"Well," he tried, careful, "Luxbridge Capital is considering a pilot project. A small encryption vault for sensitive transactional data. We'd like to know who signs off on—"
"I do," Mr. Oh said.
Direct. Immediate.
"And who else?" Hwang pushed.
"No one else."
"That seems risky."
"It is," Mr. Oh said. "Risk builds muscle."
The smile was pleasant. Not warm.
He tried one last probe.
"And if, perhaps, someone outside… wanted deeper insight into your leadership?"
"Oh," Mr. Oh said, leaning slightly forward, "they would find nothing. Because knowing nothing is safer than knowing almost."
The tea suddenly tasted bitter.
A pause stretched. Mr. Oh set his cup down.
"It was a pleasure, Mr. Kim." He stood. "We'll be in touch if interest becomes mutual."
It wasn't a goodbye. It was a dismissal wrapped in velvet.
Hwang stood, bowing slightly. "I appreciate your time."
"I appreciate your curiosity," Mr. Oh replied.
"Curiosity is healthy," Hwang said.
"Not always," the CEO answered, eyes calm. "Sometimes it's just creative self-harm."
Hwang gave a nervous laughed. "Thank you for the tea."
"It tasted good?"
"Yes."
"A shame if you'd said otherwise."
Hwang froze.
Mr. Oh's polite smile was still there.
A joke?Maybe.Maybe not.
He gestured to the hallway. "This way, please."
At the lobby, the receptionist held a sealed card.
"For you," she said politely. "Our procurement liaison. Should you submit a proposal."
Hwang accepted it. "Thank you."
"Of course," she said. "We're always curious who's curious about us."
Her smile was immaculate.
The glass doors parted.
The moment he stepped outside, the sound of the city rushed in — loud, messy, human.
His legs felt weak.
He hadn't gotten anything.
But somehow… NovaSec had gotten everything they wanted.
He looked down at the card.
Through the sleek embossed logo, a faint watermark shimmered.
A signature pattern.
His alias.
The one he never said out loud.
His heartbeat stopped.
NovaSec had been listening far deeper than conversation.
Hwang tucked the business card away and slipped into the flow of pedestrians outside, breathing easier only once NovaSec's glass building was behind him. The city swallowed him — horns, chatter, the distant whine of an engine — all noisy enough to hide the shake in his hands. He walked faster.
- - -
Back in the meeting lounge, the door clicked softly as it closed, sealing the quiet behind it. Mr. Oh hadn't moved from his seat; he watched the door a moment longer, eyes narrowed just enough to betray thought.
He lifted a hand.
An assistant stepped forward from the wall's shadow, tablet already ready.
"Sir?"
"Run a complete background check on our guest," Mr. Oh said, voice smooth as glass. "Cross-reference his credentials, associates, financials, affiliations, digital footprint. I want a full profile."
The assistant blinked. "Do you… suspect espionage?"
"That's not your concern." He didn't blink. "First thing tomorrow morning."
A beat.
"No," he added quietly, "tonight."
The assistant's posture straightened. "Understood." He exited quickly, shoes whispering across the floor.
Silence returned, heavier than before.
Mr. Oh reached for the tea, but paused with his fingers on the cup. The warmth was fading. It annoyed him.
"No reputable investor leads with those questions," he murmured. "Not unless they're looking for cracks."
Something sharpened in his eyes.
"Someone sent him."