D-100.
The number on the calendar was no longer a mere deadline; it was the diameter of a noose tightening around his neck.
Then, something strange happened.
Next to a formula in Footnote 14—one of the traps he had carefully laid—there was a microscopic dot he hadn't seen before. Instinctively, Yun-jae dragged his mouse over the area. As he highlighted the space, white text hidden against the white background slowly bled into view.
[I saw your trap. But the variable for 'Poison No. 7' is too blatant. If they run a forensic sweep, they'll catch you instantly. I’ve tweaked it slightly—check it.]
Yun-jae’s heart felt like it had been dunked in ice water. An internal ally. Someone was reading his work behind the organization’s back—someone who understood his exact intentions.
He reached for the keys to type a reply but stopped himself. Their surveillance was real-time. Instead, he checked the edit history.
The ID was D-33.
It was the code for the man who handled the bibliographies—the one who had looked so powerless, so buried in cigarette smoke and mindless deadlines.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Was it him? That man who seemed like a husk of a human being, just grinding away to meet his quota?
A chill ran down Yun-jae’s spine. Even within this perfect system, there was another 'ghost' holding its breath, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Later that afternoon, Yun-jae met Seo-yeon behind an old university library after receiving a message. The traces of their explosive argument from a few days ago remained on her gaunt face, but her eyes were as sharp as a seasoned journalist’s.
"I’m not here to make up," she said coldly. "I just have a job to finish."
She flipped open her laptop and pulled up a new chart next to the list of 3,870 names.
"I was digging through my brother’s records and found suspicious wire transfers. This organization has been sending money to accounts belonging to 'ghosts'—identities of people who are either deceased or have moved abroad. But recently, those ghost accounts started moving again."
She pointed to one specific name: Jeong Woo-jin.
It was the same name rumored among the writers—the one who had refused the offer and vanished.
"Are you saying Jeong Woo-jin might be alive?"
"No. Someone is using his identity to siphon funds from within the organization. And the place that money is being accessed from..." Seo-yeon paused, her gaze piercing. "It’s a PC bang just two blocks away from your goshiwon."
A cold shudder raced down Yun-jae's back. Someone was watching him from a close distance, interfering with the system, and sending him signals.
"D-100. Before they erase us, we have to find the 'heart' of the system," Seo-yeon said. "Han Yun-jae, if the poison you planted is going to spread, it needs a medium. I found the passage."
She handed him a list: the 2019 Approval Committee for Daeyoung Medical. There, written in plain text, was the name of another 'client' they were bound to face.
In the shadows, invisible hands finally met. D-33, the ghost within; Seo-yeon, the relentless hunter; and Yun-jae, the architect. The war that began in a secluded, lonely room was now ready to move into the massive plaza the enemy had built.
D-100. The war was no longer his alone to fight.
Insider (D-33), the Tracer (Seo-yeon), and the Writer (Yun-jae).
Question for the readers: Who do you think is really behind the ID D-33? Is he just a sympathetic writer, or could he be someone much closer to the "Jeong Woo-jin" mystery?
Coming up in EP.30: The signal starts at Seat No. 42. Yun-jae enters the lions' den, but A-12 is already one step ahead. The "Field Inspection" is coming.
If you’re enjoying the thrill of the hunt, please Rate, Follow, and leave a Comment! Your engagement helps me write faster than B-07 on a deadline!