The determination in Seo-jun's voice was a spark on the dry tinder of Min Jae's own resolve. The question, "What do we do now?" had shifted everything. It was no longer about surviving the collapse of his old reality; it was about building a new one, brick by fortified brick.
Min Jae sat up, the sheet pooling around his waist. The movement was different now—less the shuddering fragility of the night before, more the deliberate, gathering strength of a storm preparing to break. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his gaze fixed on the cityscape outside, but he wasn't seeing the skyline. He was seeing a chessboard.
"Do Hyun," Min Jae said, the name dropping into the room like a shard of ice. "He's the key. He's my father's eyes and ears. He managed everything after the… accident." The word 'accident' was now laced with a venomous doubt. "My schedule, my security, my medical care."
