Ha-Joon's office was quiet—too quiet.
Ji-Ah stood near the desk while Ha-Joon took his seat, posture straight, composed. Seo-Jun leaned against the side cabinet, arms folded, eyes sharp behind his glasses.
Ha-Joon spoke first.
"What Do-Hea told you wasn't entirely false," he said calmly. "That's why it sounds convincing. But the truth was… twisted."
Ji-Ah's fingers curled slightly at her sides.
"When the company was struggling," Ha-Joon continued, "we began a private fundraising round. Quiet. Risky. Do-Hea panicked. The moment investors hesitated, he walked away."
Seo-Jun added, "Not just walked. He sold his shares at a loss and disappeared. Left everyone else to deal with the fallout."
Ha-Joon nodded once. "I stayed. I covered the gap. Took the debt. Rebuilt trust. The board didn't push him out—he abandoned us."
Ji-Ah's brows knitted together. "So when he said you forced him out…"
"He reversed the story," Ha-Joon said evenly. "Victims get sympathy. Cowards don't."
Silence settled.
Ji-Ah looked down, then back up. "Then… the photos. We still don't know who took them. They were too close. That gate—that angle—your house is isolated."
Seo-Jun straightened.
"There is one person who's been around Mr. Ha's house lately," he said.
Ji-Ah stiffened. "Who?"
Seo-Jun met her eyes. "Do-Yoon."
Ji-Ah blinked. "…Her?"
"Yes."
Her mouth fell open slightly. "But she's—she's always smiling. And talking about jogging. And plants."
Seo-Jun sighed. "That's the part I ignored. I saw her following you once. Saw her car parked near the area a few times."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought she was… exercising."
Ji-Ah stared at him. "…Exercising. Around our gate."
"In hindsight," Seo-Jun muttered, "that was very stupid."
Ji-Ah crossed her arms. "Seo-Jun-ssi. No one jogs that slowly while staring at security cameras."
"I know," he said defensively. "I thought she was lost. Or deeply committed to cardio."
She let out a short, incredulous laugh despite herself. "Unbelievable."
Ha-Joon watched the exchange quietly, then spoke, voice firm. "We'll confirm it. Carefully."
Ji-Ah's expression sobered. "So she's close enough to take photos… and Do-Hea is using them to scare me."
"Yes," Ha-Joon said. "Which means you're no longer just a target by coincidence."
The room went still.
Ji-Ah inhaled slowly, then lifted her chin. "Then tell me what to do."
Ha-Joon's gaze sharpened—not cold, but resolute.
"This time," he said, "you won't face it alone."
Ha-Joon folded his hands neatly on the desk, posture calm, voice measured.
"The plan is straightforward," he said. "Ji-Ah, you get close to Do-Yoon."
Ji-Ah blinked. "Close… as in talking close?"
"Yes."
Seo-Jun cleared his throat, already amused.
Ha-Joon continued, unfazed. "But no over-talking. No dramatics. No trying to dominate the conversation. You know her personality well. Seo-Jun does, and so do I."
Ji-Ah scoffed. "I can be subtle."
Seo-Jun leaned back. "That sentence alone proves otherwise."
She shot him a glare.
"But," Ji-Ah added, more serious now, "even if I get close, she won't tell me anything important. Do-Yoon's not stupid."
Ha-Joon nodded once. "I agree. Which is why we won't depend on her cooperation."
He turned toward the door. "Come in."
The door opened.
A young man stepped inside—sharp features, styled hair, effortless confidence in the way he moved. His clothes were clean, modern, international.
Not loud, but intentional.
His eyes landed on Ji-Ah.
She froze.
Slowly, her brow lifted.
"…You?"
He stopped mid-step, then smiled slightly. "Hi."
Ha-Joon glanced between them. "You know each other?"
The man nodded. "Yes, sir. She helped me once. Maybe twice."
Ji-Ah crossed her arms. "Once."
He chuckled. "You saved my laptop from drowning in coffee. I still count that as hero work."
Seo-Jun let out a quiet laugh.
Ha-Joon looked back at Ji-Ah. "You recognize him?"
She stared at him for a long second, disbelief creeping in.
"…Kai Wen?"
Kai Wen smiled, polite but familiar. "Still alive. Still grateful."
Seo-Jun smirked. "Of course you know him."
Ha-Joon stood, voice steady. "Then this is settled." He turned to Kai Wen. "Now, you'll be helping her."
Kai Wen straightened instantly. "Understood, sir."
Ji-Ah pointed at him. "Wait—him? You're adding him to my mission?"
Ha-Joon met her eyes calmly. "You'll act natural. He'll handle what you can't."
Seo-Jun added dryly, "Which is staying quiet. And being subtle"
''Excuse me.'' Ji-Ah groaned. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"
For the briefest moment, Ha-Joon's lips curved—almost a smile.
"Because," he said evenly, "this plan only works if you don't try to steal the spotlight."
''Or try to force the truth out of her ok?''. He added.
Ji-Ah exhaled dramatically. "Fine. I'll be normal."
The room went silent.
Seo-Jun muttered, "We're doomed."
Kai Wen hid a laugh behind his hand.
And Ha-Joon, watching Ji-Ah closely, already knew—
The most unpredictable part of this plan wasn't Do-Yoon.
It was her.
---
Soo-Min and Ji-Ah walked side by side down the hallway, heels clicking softly against the polished floor.
"You're quiet today," Soo-Min said, glancing at her. "That's… suspicious."
Ji-Ah laughed a little too fast. "I'm always quiet."
Soo-Min snorted. "Liar."
That was when Ji-Ah spotted her.
Do-Yoon stood near the windows, phone in hand, posture relaxed—too relaxed for someone tied to this much trouble.
Ji-Ah slowed.
"There," she muttered under her breath.
Soo-Min followed her gaze. "Oh. Her."
Ji-Ah forced a smile. "I need to… check something. Catch you later, Soo-Min."
"Don't start a war," Soo-Min called after her.
"No promises," Ji-Ah replied, already walking away.
She approached Do-Yoon with confidence—maybe a little too much.
"Do-Yoon," Ji-Ah said brightly. "Wow, fancy seeing you here."
Do-Yoon looked up, surprised, then smiled politely. "Ji-Ah? I didn't know you worked on this floor."
"I float," Ji-Ah said quickly. "You know. Here, there, everywhere."
She started talking—fast. About work, about the building, about nothing important at all. Her words tumbled over each other, almost drowning the conversation.
Do-Yoon blinked, clearly overwhelmed.
Ji-Ah caught herself.
Too much.
She inhaled quietly and stopped.
"So—" she said, stepping back slightly, softening her tone, "how have you been?"
Do-Yoon relaxed a fraction, shoulders easing. "Busy. Things have been… complicated lately."
Before Ji-Ah could respond, a familiar presence approached.
Kai-Wen.
He stopped beside them naturally, like he belonged there.
"Complicated is one word for it," he said lightly.
Do-Yoon turned, surprise flickering into recognition. "Kai-Wen? Since when are you back?"
"Since yesterday," he replied easily. "You didn't answer my messages."
Ji-Ah's phone buzzed in her pocket.
She glanced down discreetly.
Seo-Jun: Retreat. Come back.
Ji-Ah's fingers tightened around the phone.
She nodded once—more to herself than anyone else.
"Well," she said suddenly, stepping back, "I should go. Meeting. Very boring. Very mandatory."
Do-Yoon smiled. "Good seeing you, Ji-Ah."
"Yeah," Ji-Ah said softly. "You too."
She turned and walked away without looking back, heart pounding but face calm.
Behind her, Kai-Wen shifted his attention fully to Do-Yoon.
"You look tired," he said gently. "You always do when you don't eat."
She scoffed. "You sound like my conscience."
"Someone has to," he replied, not smiling this time.
There was a pause.
Then he added, carefully, "How about we grab a coffee? Just us. Like before."
Do-Yoon hesitated.
"…Okay," she said finally.
They walked off together—not as conspirators, not as enemies.
Just two coworkers who had been close for a long time.
And for the first time in days, Do-Yoon didn't feel completely alone.
From the far end of the hall, Ji-Ah glanced back once—just once—before disappearing around the corner.
The first move had been made.