No Escape

The next morning, as soon as Kim Tae-jun arrived at work, he headed straight for the conference room. A meeting had been scheduled first thing in the forenoon. It was a meeting presided over by the Executive Director of Strategic Planning—his maternal uncle, Park Sangheon.

With the room filled with team leaders and higher-ups, Kim Tae-jun slowly flipped through the contract on the desk. It was the joint development agreement for the new drug. The phrasing, the conditions, the formatting—everything was flawlessly clean. Which only made it more suspicious.

Park Jihun's words from last night flashed through his mind.

"That contract... it only looks good on the outside."

His uncle spoke first. "Division Head Kim, as I mentioned yesterday, there is no reason to hold onto this any longer."

Kim Tae-jun raised his gaze. His uncle continued in a calm, measured voice.

"The working-level review is already complete, and we've received counsel from the legal team. The schedule with the Chinese side is set. Any further delay will only breed unnecessary misunderstanding. Timing is everything in these matters, is it not?"

The conference room was dead silent. No one dared to chime in easily. A few were busy reading his uncle's expression rather than looking at the contract.

Kim Tae-jun closed the folder and spoke.

"I am putting this on hold."

A brief silence descended. His uncle's brow furrowed. He asked, maintaining an forcedly calm tone, "What exactly is the problem?"

Kim Tae-jun replied without a hint of hesitation. "The main body of the contract is clean. The problem lies in what comes after."

The eyes of everyone in the conference room converged on him. Kim Tae-jun rested his hand on the documents and continued.

"As you all know, for a joint development of this scale, the supplementary agreements and the scope of practical application are far more critical than the main text."

He paused briefly to catch his breath before adding, "The ownership scope of clinical data, access rights, interpretation of technology transfer, and conditions for the return of rights upon mid-term termination. A single discrepancy in phrasing here can lead to disaster later."

His uncle's face slowly hardened. Kim Tae-jun did not stop.

"It might look fine right now, but if someone exploits those loopholes, it will be too late. I have no intention of overlooking that possibility."

The air in the conference room sank heavily. Eyes flickered nervously around the table. The faces that had been tinged with annoyance just moments ago began to stiffen one by one.

His uncle spoke, his expression completely frozen. "Division Head Kim. There are countless things riding on this contract. This level of detail is more than sufficient. There is no need to be overly sensitive."

Kim Tae-jun shook his head. "I do not agree."

His uncle pushed back again. "If you continue to behave ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like this, I will have no choice but to escalate this matter directly to the upper management."

Kim Tae-jun received the threat placidly. "Is that so?" He paused for a moment, then added coldly, "Feel free to do so. I will proceed strictly according to protocol."

Kim Tae-jun slowly scanned the working-level staff seated in the room.

"I want the draft of the supplementary agreement attached to the main joint development contract, the review sheet for data access rights, the review materials regarding external sharing, the staffing plan for the joint development response TF, and the entire history of data export approvals. Resubmit all of them."

No one answered immediately. The silence stretched. Kim Tae-jun continued.

"The deadline is today. I will receive reports from each relevant department."

At that, the Legal Team Leader spoke up first. "I will quickly compile and submit the materials reviewed by the legal team first."

Immediately after, the Clinical Support Team Leader bowed his head. "I will also organize the TF staffing plan and data access history right away."

The Production Management Team Leader was not slow to follow. "I will realign and submit all practical data related to the joint development, Division Head."

Just a day ago, these were the very people who had been busy reading his uncle's face. But now, none of them stepped out of line; they merely answered with utmost caution.

Kim Tae-jun stood up from his seat. "I will take my leave now."

Before he could even finish his sentence, his uncle stormed out of the conference room. Soon, a few working-level staff quietly followed behind him. On the other hand, some did not stand up immediately, pretending to organize their papers while warily assessing the situation.

Kim Tae-jun watched them for a moment, then gathered his documents and left the room.

The board was set. For now, that was enough.

The moment the office door closed, Park Sangheon loosened his tie. Grimacing deeply, he glared at Kang Taesik, the Strategic Planning Team Leader standing opposite him, and asked, "What do you think?"

Kang Taesik raised his head. "About what, sir?"

"Do you think the Division Head's words make any sense?"

Kang Taesik hesitated for a moment before speaking with cautious diplomacy. "Well... caution is good, but how can a leader accomplish great things if he distrusts his subordinates so much?"

Hearing this, Park Sangheon nodded. "Exactly my point. If he gets scared and delays things for no reason, we only accumulate losses." He lowered his gaze briefly, then spoke again. "It seems you'll have to bear the brunt of the trouble."

Kang Taesik quickly bowed. "Not at all, Executive Director."

"Anyway, just tell the Chinese side that we need a bit more time for internal review. Don't add any unnecessary details. Assure them that the schedule won't be disrupted."

"Yes. I will convey that."

Park Sangheon scoffed dismissively. "We just need to get past this hurdle quietly. In fact, if it ends up looking like Tae-jun made a mountain out of a molehill because he got cold feet, that won't be a bad picture either. It will make it much easier to call his judgment into question."

Kang Taesik bowed deeply. "I will do as you say."

"You may leave." Park Sangheon waved his hand.

Just as Kang Taesik was about to turn around, Park Sangheon called him back. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠"Wait."

"Yes, Executive Director?"

Park Sangheon lowered his voice. "There's no issue with the supplementary documents, right? Even if Tae-jun pokes around like he did today, you're absolutely sure nothing will trace back to me?"

Kang Taesik answered without a shred of hesitation. "Yes. It will be difficult to find any immediate issues just by looking at the supplementary documents. I have made sure to clean up any traces that could lead directly to you."

Park Sangheon's expression relaxed slightly. "Good. Keep my name out of it until the very end."

"I will keep that in mind."

Click.

Kang Taesik stepped out and closed the office door. The moment the door shut, his expression stiffened instantly. Instead of heading for the elevator, he immediately turned toward the emergency stairwell.

He opened the door, stepped inside, and only after checking above and below did he pull out a burner phone hidden in his inner jacket pocket. As soon as he powered it on, he dialed a pre-saved number. After a few rings, the other party picked up.

Click. The call disconnected.

Kang Taesik immediately redialed. The phone rang a few times before cutting off. When he tried a third time, it wouldn't connect at all. He had been blocked.

"This crazy bastard..."

Kang Taesik switched off the burner phone and shoved it deep back into his inner pocket. Wearing a mask of absolute normalcy, he slipped out of the emergency stairwell and returned to the Strategic Planning Department. He immediately picked up the landline and called the research lab.

"This is Kang Taesik, Team Leader of Strategic Planning. Where is Researcher Choi right now?"

The person on the other end hesitated before replying. "Pardon? He left a moment ago, saying he had an urgent matter. He just said he'd submit a half-day leave request and walked out."

Kang Taesik's face turned to stone. "When?"

"About five minutes ago."

After hanging up, Kang Taesik couldn't bring himself to put down the receiver for a long time. His palms were slick with sweat.

Originally, this wasn't supposed to be resolved in such a frantic rush. Once the contract was approved, everything could have been packaged as standard procedure. The data would have been leaked slowly, and even if things went awry, they could have just cut loose a single researcher. Above all, as long as Park Sangheon was backing him, he believed he could handle it on his end.

But Kim Tae-jun's sudden intervention had brought everything to a grinding halt, flipping the entire board.

Kang Taesik bit his lip hard. Right now, he had to stop the researcher from acting recklessly. But contact had already been severed. It was a checkmate.

Today was Jihun's scheduled day off. Sitting in front of his computer, Park Jihun scrolled through his email inbox. The number of unread emails had grown once again in the meantime.

Just looking at the subject lines revealed a wide variety of requests. There were even emails from prominent entertainment agencies whose names anyone would recognize. Park Jihun clicked on one of them.

"Even places like this are reaching out first now," he muttered to himself.

Just then, his phone vibrated briefly.

Even after confirming the eight-figure sum, Park Jihun set his phone down without much of a reaction. It was an amount he was well-accustomed to by now.

He looked up at the clock on the wall. Night had already fallen deep.

"It should be around this time."

The scene he had glimpsed through his shamanic reading. By now, it was time for Kim Tae-jun to make his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠move.

As if on cue, a Discord call rang. It was Kim Tae-jun. Park Jihun picked up calmly.

Park Jihun hung up the call. He lay down on his bed, but sleep eluded him. His core felt burning hot, as if a fire had been lit inside him.

'Why all of a sudden...?'

Ultimately, he got back up and started a private stream. In that instant, a fleeting scene flashed before his eyes.

Park Jihun's eyes sank coldly. This was not something he could simply overlook.

He immediately called Kim Tae-jun back on Discord.

The moment Kim Tae-jun joined the stream, the smell of salt and grease rushed into Jihun's senses. Beyond the rusted iron plates, containers stretched long into the darkness. Among them, a container sloppily painted in blue caught his eye. Then, a worn-out sign flickered at the edge of his vision. It was blurry, but the number was unmistakable.

7.

Park Jihun spoke immediately. "It's Pier 7."

Kim Tae-jun's breath hitched. "Pier 7?"

"Yes. He's hiding there right now."

Through the receiver, Jihun could hear Kim Tae-jun urgently barking orders to his men.

"It's Pier 7! Everyone, move to Pier 7!"

"Sir? How do you know that?"

"Just do as I say!"

Park Jihun spoke again. "Go, quickly. If you're even a little late, you'll lose him."

After a brief silence, Kim Tae-jun replied, "Thank you."

Once the call disconnected, Park Jihun slowly shut down the stream. The chilly, spiritual energy left his body as if it had never been there, but his gaze remained sharp.

"They won't escape now."