The Warning

The room was heavy.

Minah had calmed slightly—still resting in Jaewook's arms, eyes shut, breathing shallow but steady.

Kang Ho stared at the laptop, frozen.

Hyun Soo slowly lowered himself into a chair.

For once, his face wasn't playful.

> "Screw this," he muttered.

Then—quietly, for the first time in years—

He cursed.

The file displayed more than just Minah's trauma.

Over 50 children.

Names. Photos. Code numbers.

Statuses: Missing. Kidnapped. Dead.

Kang Ho exhaled shakily and leaned back, eyes tracing the ceiling like it held answers.

"How can people be this cruel?" he whispered.

"How do you look at a child and decide they're disposable?"

Silence followed.

Until—

DING.

Kang Ho's laptop lit up again.

Not a system alert.

Not a server breach.

A direct message.

Encrypted.

Untraceable.

Urgent.

Kang Ho's eyes narrowed as he read the sender's name.

His blood ran cold.

Han Jaemin.

Jaewook's father.

The message was short.

But loud.

"I know who you are. You need to stop digging. You are in danger."

---

Kang Ho didn't move.

Didn't blink.

Hyun Soo looked over. "What is it?"

Kang Ho turned the screen toward Jaewook—his voice grim.

"You need to see this. Now."

Jaewook read the message.

And for the first time…

He didn't speak either.

---

Silence swallowed the room.

Not a dramatic kind.

A cold, suffocating kind.

The kind that comes right before something snaps.

Hyun Soo, usually the sunshine in chaos, muttered under his breath:

"Son of a gun…"

Kang Ho didn't speak.

He clenched his jaw—then slammed his fist into the table.

Not out of anger.

Out of frustration.

Out of helplessness.

Jaewook didn't move.

He was still holding Minah, arms wrapped protectively around her.

But his eyes—his eyes were locked on the message from his father.

Then—

Ping.

Another message.

Encrypted. Anonymous.

But Jaewook recognized the source.

The man they'd met before.

The one who was supposed to be on their side.

Jaewook read the text aloud:

"We tried to be discreet sending the files. Han Jaemin got to us first.

He ordered us to stop."

Kang Ho's face darkened.

"We're compromised?"

Jaewook kept reading:

"We'll find another route. But listen—Park Dojin is different. Cruel, untouchable, unpredictable.

Even though Han Jaemin is our superior... he's not working for Dojin.

He's working behind the scenes—for us."

---

Everyone froze.

Hyun Soo blinked.

"Wait. What? Jaewook's dad is working against Park Dojin?"

Jaewook's expression hardened.

"Or he's playing both sides."

Minah stirred slightly in his arms, head resting against his chest.

She didn't open her eyes—but her fingers clutched his sleeve tighter.

Jaewook whispered, almost to himself:

"Either way... we just stepped into a war. And no one's walking out untouched."

----

The message continued on Kang Ho's screen:

"Most of the police, lawyers, and government officials are already bought.

They answer to Park Dojin.

If you want to stop him—we need to find his weakness."

The room stayed still, like it was holding its breath.

Jaewook's gaze darkened.

"Weakness…"

His eyes drifted briefly to Minah, still curled up near him on the couch—quiet now, but emotionally drained.

But then he shook his head.

"He sent his own daughter to an illegal experiment. He erased her memories.

Minah… isn't his weakness."

There was a bitter edge in his voice as he muttered:

"It's power. That's what he craves."

He stood slowly, pacing the room.

"Control. Authority. The ability to hide everything he's done—keep it all underground, buried with the kids he used and discarded."

Jaewook looked toward the screen again.

"His empire isn't built on loyalty. It's built on fear. And the second someone breaks that fear…"

He turned to Kang Ho and Hyun Soo, eyes sharp.

"It all collapses."