Jin-hyun sat behind his desk, the office all glass, steel, and clean lines—modern, minimalist, intentional. Nothing here was excessive, but everything was expensive. Soft lighting washed over concrete walls and dark wood accents, the space quiet in a way that felt deliberate rather than empty.

He was on the phone, voice low and even. Not raised, not sharp—just final.

“Fix it,” he said calmly. A pause. “You don’t need to explain it to me. You need to solve it.” Another pause, longer this time. “Good. Then I won’t have to repeat myself.”

He ended the call without waiting for a reply, setting the phone down with unhurried precision.

His partner had entered somewhere during the conversation, their presence unnoticed at first. Jin-hyun leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers resting together as if he were still considering the situation, gaze unfocused for a moment. Power sat on him easily—no tension, no posturing. Just certainty.

Only then did his eyes shift, finding them by the door. The severity in his expression softened almost immediately, shoulders relaxing as if he’d set something heavy down.

“Hey,” he said, quieter now. “How long have you been standing there?”

The room felt different once his attention was on them—still controlled, still sharp, but warmer. More human.