The next morning, Elena sat in her glass-walled office, staring at a grainy security photo. It showed a man leaving the Grand Emerald Hotel—tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a suit that cost more than her car.
"Is this the delivery boy?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Choi sat across from her, his hand heavily bandaged. "It can't be. Min-jun was a rat. A weakling. This man... he looked at me like I was a cockroach. And my men? They're in the hospital with 'iron-shaped' burns and bruised egos."
Elena looked out at the city skyline. For months, she had played the role of the heartless VP, convincing herself that sacrificing one intern was the price of power. But the look in that delivery boy's eyes had stayed with her. It wasn't the look of a victim. It was the look of a judge.
"He mentioned the offshore accounts, Choi," Elena said, turning around. "How does a laundry boy know about our private ledgers?"
"He's guessing! He has to be!" Choi shouted, though sweat was beaded on his forehead.
"If he's guessing, he's a genius. If he's not, we're all going to prison," Elena countered. She picked up her coat. "I'm going to find him. If this really is Min-jun, I want to know how he went from a doormat to a monster in three months."
"And if he kills you?" Choi sneered.
Elena paused at the door, a strange, melancholy smile on her face. "Then at least someone in this city finally has the guts to do it."
Meanwhile, back at the laundromat, Min-jun was staring at a black credit card Old Man Kang had just tossed him. It had no name on it, only a gold embossed dragon.
"What is this?" Min-jun asked.
"Your budget for the 'Action' phase," Kang said, slurping his noodles. "That card has no limit, but it comes with a condition."
"Which is?"
"Every time you use it to buy a company or a fleet of cars, you have to do a load of my laundry. No machines. Just your hands and the scrub board."
Min-jun looked at the card, then at the mountain of smelly socks in the corner. He sighed, a comedic glint in his eye. "Fine. But I'm using the premium fabric softener this time."
"Negotiable," Kang grinned. "Now go buy yourself a skyscraper. We're running out of room for the dryer lint."