Morning light slipped quietly through the curtains.
Kang Joon-Ho was already awake.
Dressed. Ready. Silent.
In the kitchen, his mother stood near the stove, moving slowly.
"Joon-Ho… you're leaving early again?" she asked softly.
He picked up his bag.
"Yeah. Work is a bit busy."
A lie.
But a necessary one.
She hesitated for a moment. "Don't overwork yourself… okay?"
Joon-Ho paused.
For a second… just a second… something in his eyes softened.
"I won't," he said.
As he stepped out, his younger brother, Kang Min-Jae, called out from behind.
"Hyung!"
Joon-Ho stopped and turned.
Min-Jae scratched his head awkwardly.
"You've been… different lately."
Joon-Ho looked at him quietly. "Different how?"
"I don't know…" Min-Jae frowned, trying to find the words. "You're… calmer. But also… scarier."
A faint silence followed.
Then—
"That's called growing up," Joon-Ho replied.
Min-Jae forced a small laugh. "Yeah… maybe."
But even he didn't sound convinced.
Outside, the air was cold.
Joon-Ho walked without rushing.
Step by step.
Controlled.
"Observation: Emotional interaction minimal."
The voice echoed in his mind.
He didn't react.
Instead, he replied calmly, almost naturally—
"That's the point."
"Query: Do you miss previous emotional state?"
Joon-Ho's eyes remained forward.
"No."
A pause.
Then—
"It was inefficient."
The system responded instantly.
"Acknowledged."
At the office, nothing had changed.
People talked. Laughed. Complained.
Normal life.
"Joon-Ho! Coffee?" a colleague waved at him.
He shook his head slightly. "Already had one."
Another lie.
He didn't drink coffee anymore.
Didn't need it.
As he sat down, someone pulled a chair beside him.
"Bro… long time."
Joon-Ho turned slightly.
It was Lee Min-Kyu—one of the few people who had stayed.
A friend.
Or at least… someone close to it.
"You disappeared after everything," Min-Kyu said, lowering his voice. "I tried calling you."
"I know."
"Then why didn't you pick up?"
Joon-Ho looked at him.
Straight. Calm.
"I was busy."
Min-Kyu frowned. "Busy doing what? You went through hell, man. You could've at least talked to someone."
Silence.
Then—
"Talking doesn't solve anything."
Min-Kyu leaned back, clearly frustrated. "That's not true."
"It is," Joon-Ho replied. "People talk to feel better. Not to fix problems."
Min-Kyu stared at him for a moment.
"You've changed."
"I had to."
"That's not change," Min-Kyu said quietly. "That's… shutting down."
For a brief second—
The old Joon-Ho might have responded.
Might have explained.
Might have smiled and brushed it off.
But not anymore.
"If you're done," Joon-Ho said calmly, "I have work."
Min-Kyu didn't reply.
He just stood up slowly.
"Yeah… sure."
As he walked away, Joon-Ho's gaze returned to his screen.
Unbothered.
"Social connection weakening."
The system noted.
"Unnecessary," Joon-Ho replied.
"Correction: Potential asset lost."
That made him pause.
Just slightly.
"…Noted."
That was the fourth change.
He no longer ignored information.
He used it.
Evening.
Joon-Ho sat alone in his room.
Laptop open.
Files arranged neatly.
A photo appeared on the screen.
Han Soo-Jin.
Laughing.
Carefree.
Standing beside a man.
Joon-Ho's expression didn't change.
Not even a little.
"Confirm identity," he said quietly
"Target Identified: Choi Sung-Hoon."
"Relationship: Illicit."
"Impact Level: High."
Silence.
Joon-Ho leaned back in his chair.
Closed his eyes for a moment.
Then—
"What's the fastest way to destroy them?"
A brief pause.
The system responded.
"Multiple strategies available."
"Recommended approach: Psychological + Social + Financial collapse."
Joon-Ho opened his eyes.
Calm.
Focused.
"Break it down."
"Step 1: Isolate target."
"Step 2: Expose truth selectively."
"Step 3: Remove support systems."
"Step 4: Induce irreversible loss."
A slow breath escaped him.
"Good."
He stood up and walked toward the window.
The city lights of Seoul stretched endlessly in front of him.
People living their lives.
Unaware.
Safe.
"They lived happily," Joon-Ho said quietly.
A pause.
"While my family was breaking."
His reflection in the glass stared back at him.
Cold.
Empty.
"So it's only fair…"
His voice dropped.
"…they feel the same."
Behind him, the laptop screen flickered slightly.
[Revenge Protocol Progress: 63%]
[Execution Phase: Pending]
Joon-Ho closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
Then opened them again.
Sharp.
Precise.
Ready.
Not yet to act.
But soon.
Very soon.