C27 Ji-seok Tightens His Net

Han Ji-seok stood in his glass-walled office on the forty-second floor, watching the city wake beneath him. He always liked mornings — when the markets stirred, when power shifted without a sound, when destruction could be arranged with nothing but a signature.

“Status,” he said.

The aide beside him adjusted his glasses. “The Mokdong fire erased most of the archive