The world knew their name. But no one had ever seen their
faces.
For over three decades, the KAY Group, a Saudi Arabian
investment colossus, had moved silently through the veins of the
global economy like blood through an invisible body — vital,
powerful, and unseen.
Founded by the enigmatic KAY Family, Indian in origin but
Saudi by citizenship, the group had grown from a desert energy
venture into a $500 billion multinational force — investing in
everything from AI to aerospace, steel to biotech. Entire nations
bent quietly to their influence, often without even realizing it.
In Korea, the KAY Group had become a backbone.
Their $65 billion stake spread across the country's leading
private conglomerates — from tech to construction to energy. The
local CEOs toasted to the invisible giants. The press speculated
endlessly: Who were the KAYs? Why did they invest where they
did? Were they philanthropic royalty? Ruthless capitalists? Ghosts?
There were only whispers of a Chairman, whose name was
never printed. A wife whose personal portfolio could fund several
governments. And two sons — one reportedly a global negotiator
and the other… a phantom. Rumors called the younger son a
storm in human skin. Cold. Calculating. Silent.
But no photo had ever been published. Not a single live public
appearance. Every press conference was handled by well-dressed
representatives who said just enough and never a word more.
Until now.
Because something had happened in Seoul.
And the KAYs were about to make themselves felt — like the
tremor before an earthquake.