Jin park was seated in his d
Jin Park sat comfortably in his father's office, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of whiskey resting lazily between his fingers as he listened to the man across from him talk. His father had been speaking for almost thirty minutes, but Jin had barely heard half of it. Business. Deals. Money. Names of men who smiled at dinner tables and ordered deaths behind closed doors. It was the language Jin had grown up hearing, so familiar that most of it no longer surprised him.
The office itself was a reflection of the man who owned it. Everything was expensive, but nothing was warm. Dark wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with files, ledgers and carefully arranged ornaments that probably cost more than most people earned in a year. A large window overlooked the city, while two armed men stood outside the office door pretending to be security.
They weren't pretending.
"You're going back to school," his father finally said.
Jin's fingers stopped against the rim of his glass.
He slowly looked up. "What?"
"Seorim High."
For a moment, Jin thought he had heard wrong.
Then he laughed once, without humor.
"You're joking."
His father didn't even smile.
Jin leaned back against the sofa, staring at him as though he had suddenly lost his mind. "I'm eighteen. I graduated high school in New York."
"I know."
"I've already done this."
"I know that too."
"Then why the hell am I going back?"
His father's expression remained completely calm.
"Because this time, school isn't the reason you're going."
That answer immediately wiped the amusement from Jin's face.
His father leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach. "One of our biggest clients wants information from the Seorim database. Sensitive information. Something connected to Chairman Han."
Jin's eyes narrowed.
The name was familiar.
Chairman Han was one of the most influential businessmen in Korea, a man whose photograph appeared in newspapers beside politicians and celebrities. He owned companies in construction, technology and finance. On the surface, he was a respected businessman.
But in his father's world, respectable was often another word for well-hidden.
"He annoyed the wrong person," his father continued. "Our client wants enough information to make sure he never does it again."
Jin took another sip.
"And you want me to steal it."
"I want you to retrieve it."
"From a school database."
"Precisely."
Jin stared at his father.
Of all the assignments he could have been given, this was perhaps the most insulting.
School.
The word alone brought back memories he had spent years trying to bury.
He remembered the first time he had walked into a classroom after his father decided that his son needed a normal childhood. Jin had been younger then, quieter, still trying to understand why every adult around his father carried weapons and why people lowered their voices whenever the Park name was mentioned.
He remembered sitting at the back of a classroom while other students laughed around him. He had thought, foolishly, that perhaps school would be different.
It wasn't.
One afternoon, a group of boys had cornered him behind the gym after discovering who his father was. They had mocked him, called him a gangster's son and demanded that he prove it. Jin had refused. After all even if his dad was a hyngnim and even owned the biggest monster gang "cheongseomdang'. He wasn't allowed to ever tell anyone. The argument had turned ugly, and by the time a teacher arrived, Jin was standing alone while the others pretended to be innocent.
The teacher hadn't asked what happened.
He had simply looked at Jin and said, "Your family name will not protect you here."
Jin had never forgotten those words.
Not because they had hurt him.
Because they had taught him something.
People didn't care about the truth. They cared about whatever version of it was convenient.
From that day onward, Jin had hated school. He hated the forced smiles, the pointless rules, the teachers who believed they understood him, and especially the students who thought four walls and a uniform made them different from the people outside.
His father had eventually sent him to New York.
Jin had graduated early, finished what he needed to finish and never looked back.
Until now.
"How long?" Jin asked.
"Not long."
His father slid a thin folder across the desk.
Jin picked it up.
"Your admission has already been arranged. You start Monday."
He opened the folder and scanned the papers.
Seorim High.
A prestigious school filled with wealthy families, politicians' children, business heirs and students whose parents had connections powerful enough to make problems disappear.
It was exactly the kind of place his father could infiltrate without raising suspicion.
"Why me?"
His father gave him a look.
"Because you're good at what you do."
Jin said nothing.
"You're better than most of the people working for me," his father continued. "And you know how to keep your head down when necessary. Hoseok will assist you."
At the mention of his best friend's name, Jin sighed.
"Of course he will."
"You'll get into the school, establish access, find what we're looking for and leave."
"And if the information isn't there?"
"Then you find where it was moved."
Jin closed the folder.
There was no room for negotiation. There never was.
His father wasn't simply a businessman. He was the hyungnim of Cheongsamdong, one of the most feared criminal organizations operating beneath the polished surface of Seoul. The organization dealt in things respectable people claimed not to know existed—illegal drugs, black-market information, cybercrime and carefully arranged deals between powerful men who wanted their hands kept clean.
But information was their most valuable weapon.
They didn't need to threaten a politician when they already possessed evidence of his corruption. They didn't need to fight a businessman when they knew which secret could destroy him. They collected secrets and stored them away like ammunition.
A politician could survive losing money.
A powerful man could survive losing an election.
But reputation was different.
Once destroyed, it was almost impossible to rebuild.
That was why Cheongsamdong was feared.
They knew where people were vulnerable.
And they knew exactly when to press.
Jin stood from the sofa and adjusted his jacket.
"So that's it?"
His father nodded.
"Do your job well, cub."
Jin froze.
His jaw tightened.
He hated that word.
Cub.
His father had called him that since childhood, as though Jin were nothing more than a young animal waiting to prove it belonged in the pack.
"Don't call me that."
His father smiled faintly.
"Then give me a reason to call you something else."
Jin turned and walked out before his temper could get the better of him.
Downstairs, Hoseok was waiting beside the car.
As usual, he was smiling.
Jin looked at him with irritation.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Because you're going to school."
Jin stared at him.
Hoseok's grin widened.
"This is going to be fun."
"No. It isn't."
"You've never been to Seorim."
"I've been to school before."
"That's exactly why this is funny."
Jin walked past him.
Hoseok followed.
"Come on, Jin. Try to enjoy yourself."
"I'm going there to work."
"Sure."
"Nothing about this is funny."
"You're right."
Hoseok paused.
Then added, "But watching you wear a school uniform might be."
Jin stopped walking.
Hoseok immediately looked away.
"Get in the car."
"Yes, boss."
Jin opened the door and climbed inside.
As the car pulled away, he looked through the window at the city he had returned to after ten years.
Seoul had changed.
But somehow, it still felt like the same place.
His father's order remained simple: enter Seorim High, find the information connected to Chairman Han, retrieve it and leave without exposing Cheongsamdong.
Jin had spent years learning how to survive his father's world.
Now he had to pretend to be an ordinary eighteen-year-old student.
That might have been the most difficult assignment he had ever received.
Because Jin Park had no intention of becoming a normal student.
And he had absolutely no intention of staying in school any longer than necessary.