By the time morning sun slanted through the frosted glass of the Lumina office, the building hummed with the restless energy of reinvention. Seoul's fashion district stretched below—endless movement, delivery vans, neon ads promising impossible dreams—while up here, another kind of gamble was about to take its first breath. Joon-ho stood near the floor-to-ceiling window, city skyline at his back, straightening the cuffs of his new suit. He felt the edge of nerves, a rare thing for him. It wasn't about money, or even power. It was about stakes: everyone in this room had bet something vital on today.
