KENJI
The private hangar is cold, the pre-dawn air biting even through my coat. The Soma jet stands on the tarmac, a sleek, dark predator ready to hunt.
Inside, the low hum of its systems is a promise of motion, of action. Shinki, Tokito, and I are a small, tense war council under the dim cabin lights.
"The Seoul director will meet us at the Grand Hyatt. I've arranged for a secure conference room," Shinki says, his voice all business, his fingers flying across his tablet. He's in his element now, a general marshaling financial troops. "The key shareholders will be on a secure video link. Our objective is singular: convince them the foundation is solid, that this is a targeted smear campaign, and that our liquidity injection is a show of strength, not desperation."
