Sharks in the Water

“Aaaargh! Sweet freedom!”

I stumbled into the lab of Hyung-jun’s company—or rather, our company, which now bore the gleaming new name of Arcane Technology. The second the door clicked shut behind me, I threw myself faceup onto the sofa like a starfish. Days of white-knuckle tension and accumulated exhaustion crashed down on me all at once. That frantic, whirlwind afternoon at COEX already felt like a distant fever dream.

“My heart was pounding so hard I thought my ribs would crack,” I wheezed, staring at the ceiling. “How did you ever think I could pull off a presentation in front of that massive crowd? Look at me—my hands and knees are still shaking.”

“Oh, stop crying wolf. You were totally in your element.” Hyung-jun retrieved two cold cans of beer from the mini-fridge and casually tossed one toward me. It landed on my stomach with a solid thud.

I flinched at the icy shock, sat bolt upright, and clutched the can defensively. “I’m not crying wolf! Do you have any idea how terrified I was? Up until the very second you shoved me onto that stage, I stood backstage regretting my life choices a hundred thousand times over, thinking, I should’ve just bolted!”

“Well, you certainly fooled everyone out there. You had that entire crowd wrapped around your finger like some sort of stage magician. Sure, we didn't stick to the schedule, but it ended with a bang. That’s what counts. Come on, drink up.”

Pfft-crack!

The pull tabs popped in crisp succession. We tipped our cans back and took deep, thirsty gulps of cold lager, letting out twin groans of pure satisfaction.

“Aah!”

“Now that is why beer was invented!” Hyung-jun’s face was still flushed, the lingering adrenaline of the showcase keeping him on an electric high. He leaned back against the counter, a greasy grin spreading across his lips. “Though I gotta ask... what was with that sleazy, smirking grimace you made right at the end? Standing in the wings, I almost threw up in my mouth.”

“Hey! Watch your mouth, you bastard!” I shot back. “I had to hype the crowd! If I just muttered, ‘Sorry, the underlying principle is confidential,’ and slunk off the stage, we’d have looked like cheap amateurs. Haven't you ever heard of cultivating an air of mystery?”

“If you pull off that ‘mysterious’ routine one more time, there won't be any mystery left in the universe.”

“Keep yapping and see if I don't vanish next time. You remember who handles all the tedious legwork around here, right?”

“Whoa, hey, let’s not get drastic. My bad, my bad.” Offering a completely insincere apology, Hyung-jun tapped the screen of his tablet and woke the display. “Jokes aside, thanks to you knocking it out of the park, the showcase blew up. Take a look at this.”

He turned the tablet toward me. On the front page of the IT and Science section of the nation's largest web portal, every single top-trending headline was plastered with the name Arcane Technology.

The comment sections beneath the articles were in utter pandemonium.

Every corner of the internet was being swallowed whole by discussions about us. And to think this entire uproar was sparked by my magic. I couldn't help puffing out my chest with a smug little grin.

“See? Pure insanity,” Hyung-jun chuckled, shaking his head. “Our phones have been blowing up non-stop. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠finally shut off the company main line and my personal cell. The corporate inbox was receiving an email every second, so I gave up on checking it altogether and logged out. Technically speaking, we’re open for business, but effectively out of order.”

Despite his words, Hyung-jun looked as unbothered as a man on vacation. Not that we had any reason to rush. I held up my own switched-off smartphone in silent agreement.

“So what’s the play now?”

“What else? We wait,” Hyung-jun said coolly, swirling the remaining beer in his can with absolute leisure. “Every battery maker, electric vehicle giant, and tech conglomerate across the globe will come begging on their knees. All we have to do is sit back, watch the bids roll in, and pick the suitor offering the sweetest deal.”

A sly, villainous grin crept across his face. “We hold all the cards now. We’re the apex predators.”

“Ah, the sweet music of undisputed leverage,” I laughed. To think a simple phrase could bring such boundless joy—if that wasn't magic, what was?

“We’ll wait until the initial circus dies down and only the serious players are left standing at the table.” Hyung-jun’s eyes narrowed into sharp, calculating slits. “That’s where our true baseline valuation will be decided.”

He thrust his can forward. “A toast. To our radiant future.”

“To our radiant future!”

Clang!

Our aluminum cans collided with a resounding metallic ring, ringing as bright and clear as the golden road stretched out before us.

At that very moment.

In the executive penthouse of the Hwaseong Group headquarters in central Seoul, the atmosphere was freezing.

The lavish mahogany furnishings enclosing the room and the dazzling night skyline sprawling beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass did nothing to soften the chill. If anything, the immense space felt like a predatory bird’s aerie perched high above an unsuspecting city.

“So... you're telling me this startup's new technology is truly that remarkable?”

The low voice belonged to Jeon Myeong-cheol, Vice Chairman of Hwaseong Group and head of its entire energy business division. With his impeccably slicked-back hair and a gaze as sharp as a razor, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he exuded the suffocating, heavy arrogance characteristic of a third-generation chaebol scion accustomed to absolute obedience.

Standing before his desk, Kim Jin-gu, President and CEO of Hwaseong Energy Solutions, stood ramrod-straight as he turned the pages of a thick dossier with stiff fingers.

“Yes, Vice Chairman. Our chief research engineers and I attended the demonstration in person to verify it. The performance metrics listed in their promotional materials were not exaggerated in the slightest. In fact, witnessing the test live on-site, it felt as though they had deliberately understated their results. To be completely candid... this is nothing short of a revolution.”

“A revolution, you say?” Jeon Myeong-cheol murmured, his tone as cold as winter ice.

He drummed his manicured fingernails against the cover of the report. “President Kim. You’re an industry veteran who has spearheaded our battery division for over two decades. And yet that grand word, revolution, spills so effortlessly from your lips?”

President Kim dipped his head lower. “I apologize, Vice Chairman... but even the word ‘revolution’ fails to capture the magnitude of it. Within the framework of established modern science, the technology defies explanation. In particular, their complete elimination of interfacial resistance is... extraordinary. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it magic.”

“Hmph.” Jeon Myeong-cheol let out a low groan, visibly irritated by the uncharacteristic meekness of his top technical mind. “Is this technology an absolute necessity for our operations?”

“If I may speak freely, sir, it is an asset we must secure at all costs, regardless of the blood we have to shed.”

“Secure it, huh...” Jeon Myeong-cheol tapped the desk rhythmically, sinking into thought. “How much would it take to buy them out entirely?”

“It is impossible to estimate at this stage.”

“Impossible?”

“Its application extends far beyond secondary batteries. It carries seismic implications for semiconductors, composite materials, and the broader global energy sector. In all honesty...” Kim Jin-gu squeezed his eyes shut for a fleeting second before whispering, “...it may very well be worth more than our entire conglomerate combined.”

“What?” Jeon Myeong-cheol’s voice turned instantly venomous. “President Kim.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I know you’ve dedicated your entire life to engineering to climb to your current position. But overvaluing a piece of tech to such an absurd degree is unacceptable.”

“...I apologize, sir.”

“Save your apologies. If buying them outright is out of reach, we abandon the acquisition and pivot to other avenues. Continue your briefing.”

As if expecting the command, Kim Jin-gu swiftly flipped to the next section of the dossier. “The board of directors at Energy Solutions also leaned toward securing a licensing agreement over an outright buyout, and we conducted our preliminary investigation accordingly. However... we uncovered a glaring anomaly.”

“An anomaly?”

“There are no patent filings. We conducted exhaustive searches across domestic and international intellectual property registries, but found nothing registered under Arcane Technology or relating to their interfacial resistance mechanism. It appears they have kept the underlying science an absolute trade secret.”

“Ha! No patents?” Vice Chairman Jeon’s dark eyebrows twitched upward. “Insolent little upstarts. Are they daring the world to come take it if they can?”

A twisted, predatory grin formed at the corners of his lips—the look of an apex beast that had caught the scent of an easy kill.

“If they're so brimming with confidence, it’d be rude not to swallow them whole.”

Recognizing that look, Kim Jin-gu felt a cold shudder race down his spine. He knew that expression all too well. It was the instinctive glint of an insatiable corporate carnivore that had crushed, stripped, and digested countless smaller enterprises beneath its iron heel.

Jeon Myeong-cheol turned his leather chair toward the window, gazing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out across the gleaming city lights. Behind his cold eyes, ruthless calculations and dark stratagems churned like poison.

Presently, he broke the silence.

“Since they chose to conceal the foundational science, it’s only natural that we demand rigorous external verification. Send an official corporate request to Arcane Technology demanding battery cell samples for technical validation. We have industry precedent and reasonable cause; they won't dare refuse a conglomerate like ours.”

He swiveled back to pin Kim Jin-gu with a piercing glare.

“President Kim, I am assigning you a special mission. Assemble an elite verification task force consisting of our sharpest reverse-engineering specialists. By whatever means necessary, unearth the core mechanism those arrogant brats are hiding. I don't care what methods you employ. You will have the full financial and operational backing of the group... just deliver that foundational principle to my desk. Do I make myself clear?”

Kim Jin-gu swallowed dryly. By whatever means necessary. There was no mistaking the ruthless implication behind those words.

Jeon Myeong-cheol’s smirk deepened into something cruel and vile.

“Once the core mechanism is in our hands, the rest is trivial. We’ll register the global patents under Hwaseong’s name. And if those upstarts try to sue, we’ll bury them beneath the overwhelming weight of our legal apparatus until they suffocate.”

His low, raspy chuckle echoed off the polished mahogany walls of the penthouse office. Far outside, the brilliant lights of Seoul sparkled through the night, yet not a single beam could pierce the frigid, suffocating darkness festering inside that room.

The ravenous shadow of a mega-conglomerate was reaching out, ready to engulf a fledgling startup that had barely taken its first breath.

At that same hour.

Langley, Virginia.

Deep within the subterranean levels of the CIA Headquarters, inside the Advanced Technology Analysis Center, the briefing room was bathed in the clinical glow of computer monitors and high-grade surveillance hardware. Accessible only through layers of biometric clearance and armed checkpoints, the room hummed with the quiet whir of high-performance servers.

On a massive central holographic display, footage from the battery conference held in South Korea played on a continuous loop. It depicted an unbelievable technical demonstration unfolding within a cramped, unassuming booth.

To the side of the footage, preliminary intelligence dossiers and diagnostic graphs concerning Arcane Technology were stacked across several digital windows.

“Based on our spectral and sensor data telemetry, we have found zero evidence of post-processing, stagecraft, or digital trickery,” a young technical intelligence officer reported, his voice tinged with suppressed excitement.

He gestured toward a spike on the performance graph. “If the field reports regarding this ‘zero-interface’ breakthrough hold up, this isn't just an optimization... it is a fundamental leap that completely obliterates the ceiling of current electrochemical energy storage. The downstream ramifications for both military logistics and strategic industrial dominance... frankly, none of the external defense consultants we contacted could even model the ceiling.”

Presiding over the briefing was John Smith, a senior intelligence analyst overseeing East Asian technological strategic security. His expression remained utterly impassive. With his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes traced the looping footage with an air that bordered on sheer boredom.

Through his mind drifted memories of past scientific panics that had crossed his desk over the decades. The disgraced South Korean geneticist who once claimed to have cloned human embryonic stem cells; the recent sensational frenzy of research teams claiming to have synthesized room-temperature superconductors.

“A revolution...” Smith finally muttered, his gravelly voice laced with the jaded skepticism of a veteran who had seen too many paper tigers crumble. “That word gets tossed around far too cheaply these days. Have you already forgotten the international circus surrounding that so-called LK-99 a few years back? And what did it amount to in the end? Absolutely nothing. Pure ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vaporware.”

He turned a reproving glare toward the junior analyst. “There is no need to wet your pants over unverified claims. This fledgling entity... Arcane Technology, was it? Have we pulled their corporate balance sheets and vetted their talent pool?”

Another intelligence officer flipped through a digital tablet and replied cautiously, “Given that the company was registered only recently, available intelligence remains sparse. The listed CTO, Park Ji-hyuk, possesses a resume consisting solely of an undergraduate degree in Materials Science from Hankook University. Oddly enough, the CEO, Kim Hyung-jun, holds a doctorate from the same institution's graduate school. Their operational hierarchy seems inverted, almost amateurish.”

“Hmm.” Smith rubbed his chin, a hint of curiosity entering his eyes. “What about their capitalization?”

“Nothing of strategic significance, sir. Their initial seed funding looks no different from thousands of generic garage startups scattered around Silicon Valley.”

“Hah.” Smith let out a derisive snort. “A textbook tech startup fairy tale. A pair of lucky gamblers who stumbled onto an accidental breakthrough.”

“With all due respect, sir,” the younger officer ventured, “the strategic utility of the technology is too severe to dismiss out of hand.”

“Is it?” Smith scoffed. “Look past the shiny presentation and examine the substance. What does this dossier actually contain? Aside from a single live benchmark demonstration, what concrete proof do we have?”

“W-Well, that is...” The analyst’s voice trailed off as the glaring flaw became painfully obvious.

“Exactly. No patents filed. No peer-reviewed theory published. It is far too premature to sound the alarm or throw a parade. Keep them flagged on our watchlist, but for now, we observe from a distance.”

“Understood, sir.”

With Smith’s directive established as protocol, the analyst nodded and stepped back. Smith turned away from the holographic display to study a sprawling geopolitical map of East Asia pinned against the far wall—that small, volatile peninsula wedged tightly between China, Russia, North Korea, and Japan.

If it’s a hoax, it’s just another fleeting embarrassment, Smith mused, narrowing his eyes at the southern half of the peninsula. But if it’s real... it could trigger a logistical nightmare.

While South Korea was formally designated an indispensable strategic ally, the corporate culture of the peninsula was a notorious liability in Smith’s eyes.

It was a nation where foundational science was routinely starved, and where domestic engineers were treated like disposable cogs on an assembly line.

Those arrogant, short-sighted chaebol bastards, a flash of cold disdain crossed Smith’s face. If this zero-interface breakthrough turns out to be legitimate, those domestic vultures will try to strong-arm the founders and steal the IP. And if their predatory pressure pushes those young founders into the arms of hostile states like China, the strategic balance collapses. I need to get ahead of this.

He made a quiet mental note to coordinate discreetly with select American big-tech conglomerates and defense contractors.

All critical technology must flow to the United States.

American global hegemony was forged upon a bedrock of absolute technological supremacy. And John Smith had zero intention of letting a breakthrough capable of shaking that hegemony slip through their fingers.