THE MARKED GIRL

The autumn sunlight filtered through the tall glass panes of Yonsei's Faculty Center as Audrey and Kenzo entered the Psychology Department. Audrey walked with purpose, dressed in a professional yet understated blouse and skirt, her leather satchel slung neatly over one shoulder. Kenzo, beside her, adjusted the lapels of his gray blazer with his usual awkward elegance, clutching a slim tablet that already hummed with access to digital files and building schematics.

Their fabricated credentials had passed every university checkpoint. The aliases were bulletproof. On paper, they were visiting scholars from Melbourne University, experts in applied behavioral frameworks and cognitive reinforcement techniques.

In truth, they were hunters.

Professor Kang Jiwoon's assistant greeted them at the office doors and led them into a sunlit meeting room where Kang waited, impeccably dressed, a pot of green tea already steaming on the table. He stood as they entered, his smile polite, controlled.

"Professor Audrey Bennett and Dr. Kenzo Hartfield, yes? A pleasure to finally meet you in person," Kang said.

Audrey extended her hand, her expression calm. "The pleasure is ours, Professor Kang. Thank you for making time."

"Of course," Kang gestured to the seats. "Any colleague advancing behavioral science is welcome at Yonsei. Please, sit."

They settled in. Kenzo remained quiet at first, watching Kang's microexpressions. The man was composed, his voice smooth, every word landing as if rehearsed.

"We were particularly intrigued by your research into obedience patterns in collectivist cultures," Audrey began, unfolding a faux academic paper. "Your theory on compliant identity shaping through repeated exposure caught my attention."

Kang gave a small laugh. "Ah, one of my more controversial stances. But you understand—some minds are built to follow. Our work simply reveals that truth."

Audrey's voice stayed warm, but her eyes flickered.

Lie.

Kenzo watched her, waiting. She tapped her index finger subtly—twice. A cue. Kang was hiding something beneath that sentence.

"We're particularly interested in how you applied these theories without formal clinical trials," Kenzo said, voice even. "The precision of your field results is… unusual."

Kang smiled. "Observation can often surpass experimentation, Dr. Hartfield. One must only know where to look."

Another lie.

Audrey leaned forward slightly. "You mean, within the university setting itself?"

Kang didn't flinch. "Naturally. Universities are controlled ecosystems. Ideal, in many ways."

Kenzo activated his ability subtly, letting the world dim around him for a moment. The shadows around Kang's figure shifted. Behind his academic charm, Kenzo glimpsed images—whispers of confidential recommendations, encrypted emails to Seong Jae, lists of names.

Female names.

He blinked, letting the vision fade.

"We're hosting a guest lecture next Thursday," Kang offered smoothly. "You'd be welcome to present your findings to our graduate cohort."

Audrey smiled. "We'd be honored."

As they exchanged formalities, Kenzo caught Audrey's eye and gave the faintest nod. They had what they needed. For now.

The café was tucked away in a quiet alley just outside campus grounds, a forgotten gem nestled between ivy-wrapped walls and wooden window shutters. Inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee clung to the air, mixing with soft jazz murmuring from a dusty speaker in the corner. It was quiet enough for planning, casual enough to blend in.

Audrey stirred her tea absently, her gaze on the steam rising from the cup rather than the three figures seated with her at the table. Damian leaned back in his chair, legs sprawled and arms crossed, looking like he belonged in a boxing gym, not a university café. Hana sat sideways in her seat, hoodie half-zipped, one leg propped under her. Kenzo hunched forward, laptop open, glasses sliding down his nose as lines of code reflected in his lenses.

"We're running out of time," Audrey said softly, voice calm but weighted. "Kang's patterns are accelerating. He's picking girls faster. No one's even questioning it."

"Because he's dressed it up as opportunity," Hana muttered. "'Research internships,' 'honors programs'... It's a pipeline wrapped in shiny paper."

Damian grunted, stabbing his straw into his protein shake. "Guy's got the whole campus fooled."

"Not all of it," Kenzo said quietly. He didn't look up. Fingers flying across the keyboard, he tapped a final command. The screen flashed. A new file folder appeared—Faculty_Backup_KJ.

Audrey leaned in. "Is that the clone?"

"Just decrypted it." Kenzo adjusted his glasses and began scrolling through the contents. "Lecture notes, scheduling software... encrypted messaging app... and—wait. Here."

Three heads tilted toward his screen.

"List of applicants for assistant positions," Kenzo murmured. "But they're annotated. Not normal reviews—coded tags. Some say 'E-01' or 'R-Flagged'..."

"Like a sorting system," Audrey said. Her stomach twisted.

Kenzo scrolled further. "And here—name highlighted in gold. Ji Min Seo."

Hana blinked. "That's the girl from the psych class. The one Kang hovered over."

Damian's brow furrowed. "He already picked her."

"There's a calendar entry," Kenzo continued. "Friday, 11:30 PM. 'Final Assessment – CLUB 7G.'"

Audrey's cup clinked gently as she set it down. "That's not a seminar. That's a handoff."

For a long moment, no one said anything. Just the hum of Kenzo's laptop and the clink of ice in Damian's drink.

"We stop it," Hana said at last. Her voice was steel. "Whatever it takes."

Later that day, in the fading golden hour, Hana lingered near the campus library steps where Ji Min sat, curled over a book, legs swinging idly. The girl was younger than Hana had realized. Maybe nineteen. Bright. Trusting.

Hana approached casually, slipping onto the bench beside her. "Is that the neuro paper from Kang's class?"

Min Seo looked up, surprised. Then she smiled. "Yeah. It's... dense. But kind of cool."

"Tell me about it," Hana said, flipping open a notebook. "I'm still wrapping my head around his last lecture."

They chatted for a while—notes, classes, weird campus clubs. Min Seo was sweet, a little shy, but thrilled to be noticed. As the conversation deepened, Hana asked more personal questions: where Ji Min was from, if she had siblings, what she wanted to do after university.

Min Seo answered openly, speaking about her small hometown, her love for psychology, and how proud her parents were that she was studying in Seoul. Hana listened intently, nodding and smiling, but inside, something twisted. Min Seo reminded her of people she'd failed to save before—too young, too trusting, too unaware of the world's darkness.

By the time Min Seo mentioned the internship, Hana felt something she rarely allowed herself to feel—protective.

"He said I stood out," Min Seo said proudly. "Said there was this really elite program for students who show... the right potential. It's off-campus. I get to meet donors."

Hana's stomach twisted. "That's amazing," she said with a smile.

Lie.

Later that night, Audrey stood at the edge of the safehouse planning table, her fingers trailing over a map of the city. CLUB 7G was marked in red. Not far from Club Zero. Same district. Same owners, probably.

"We'll need eyes on the interior," Audrey said. "Someone on comms. Someone near Ji Min. And someone near the car."

"I'll tail Min Seo in," Hana said. "Get her out if things go bad."

She paused. "Also… we need to protect her. She's not just another name. I talked to her. She's a good kid. She's got dreams. She trusts too easily, and Kang knows it. We don't just intercept her—we keep her safe."

"Agreed," Audrey said softly.

"I'll be in the back alley near the service door," Damian offered. "If anyone touches her, I'll flatten them."

"And I'll handle visual tracking," Kenzo added. "They have three CCTV feeds we can tap into."

Audrey nodded. "Then we're set."

Friday, 11:27 PM.

CLUB 7G pulsed with heavy bass and kaleidoscopic lights, its sleek interior filled with gold accents and VIP booths. Min Seo stood near the bar, clutching her purse nervously. Her dress was simple, elegant. She looked out of place among the crowd.

Hana kept close, dressed in black and silver, eyes sharp beneath the bangs of a cropped wig.

Across the street, Kenzo monitored the feeds. "She just entered the green zone. Lounge left. Room two."

Audrey's voice echoed calmly. "Hana, stay behind her. Don't break cover until we're sure."

"Copy," Hana replied.

From his post, Damian leaned against the back wall, hood up. His gaze never left the side door.

Inside, a man approached Min Seo. Expensive suit. Slick smile. He whispered something. She nodded, hesitant. Followed him.

"She's being led to Room 4," Kenzo said, voice tight. "Hana, now."

Hana moved. Fast, quiet, controlled. She reached Min Seo just as the door opened.

"Hey!" she called brightly. Min Seo turned, surprised. "I forgot to give you back your notebook."

The man turned too. Eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry," Hana said with a smile. And then she reached out, brushing Min Seo's wrist.

In an instant, time twisted. Hana's power flowed. She erased the past ten minutes.

Min Seo blinked. Confused.

"Hey... where are we?" she asked.

"Wrong room," Hana said quickly. "C'mon, let's go."

The handler stepped forward. Damian appeared a heartbeat later, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall.

"Touch her again," he said low. "See what happens."

Hana guided Min Seo outside as the club's music roared around them. Kenzo scrambled the cameras just long enough.

They didn't stop running until they reached the safe car.

Audrey met them there, calm and steady. Min Seo was shaking.

"You're okay now," Audrey said, wrapping a blanket around her. "You don't remember, but you were about to walk into something terrible. We stopped it."

Min Seo's eyes filled with tears. "I don't understand."

"You don't have to. Just know that it's not your fault. And you're not alone."

As the car drove off, Audrey turned to the others.

"He's going to know," she said quietly.

"Let him," Hana muttered.

Damian cracked his knuckles. "Let him try to come for us."

Kenzo adjusted his glasses. "We'll be ready."

Above them, the city lights pulsed like a heartbeat. The game had changed.