The blackout concert was a victory, but morning brought a hangover.
Yoo-jin sat in his office, staring at a stack of legal notices.
City of Seoul: Fine for Public Disturbance - 50 Million Won.
Korea Electric Power Corp: Fine for Unauthorized Grid Usage.
Dragon Entertainment: Cease and Desist Order.
"It was worth it," Yoo-jin muttered, tossing the papers aside.
"Was it?" Director Park asked, pacing the room. "We have 10 million views on YouTube, but zero revenue. We can't pay the fines with likes, Yoo-jin."
"We'll pay them," Yoo-jin said. "David Kim just wired the first tranche of the Titan US investment."
"Money isn't the issue," Park stopped pacing. "It's the daughter."
Yoo-jin looked up. "Ghost found something?"
Park nodded. He placed a tablet on the desk.
"Lee Ji-su. Chairman Lee's daughter. She's not in Switzerland anymore. She was moved back to Korea three months ago."
"Where?"
"A private sanatorium in Gangwon-do. Owned by a shell company linked to Dragon."
Park swiped the screen. A medical file appeared. It was heavily redacted, but one word stood out.
Diagnosis: Systemic Neuro-Collapse.
Yoo-jin's blood ran cold.
Neuro-Collapse. That was the term Dr. Oh used in the Incubator video. It was what happened to Version 1. It was what almost happened to Yoo-jin.
"She wasn't just a trainee," Yoo-jin whispered. "She was a prototype."
"What?"
"Chairman Lee didn't refuse the Ministry's System because he was noble," Yoo-jin realized, the pieces clicking together. "He refused it because he tried it first. And it broke his daughter."
If Lee Ji-su was a failed prototype, she was the smoking gun. She was proof that Dragon Entertainment wasn't just a monopoly—it was an accomplice.
"We need to talk to her," Yoo-jin said.
"We can't," Park said. "The sanatorium is a fortress. Armed guards. No visitors. Even her doctors are vetted by the Chairman."
"Then we don't visit," Yoo-jin stood up. "We infiltrate."
The Prep Room. 10:00 AM.
Sae-ri was applying makeup to Min-ji. Not stage makeup. Old age makeup.
"Stop moving," Sae-ri scolded. "Or your wrinkles will look fake."
"I hate this," Min-ji grumbled. She was wearing a nurse's uniform that smelled like mothballs. "Why do I have to be the nurse?"
"Because you have the attitude for it," Yoo-jin said, checking his own disguise in the mirror. He was dressed as a delivery driver for a medical supply company. Cap pulled low, fake stubble.
"And you?" Min-ji asked. "You look like you rob convenience stores."
"I look like invisible labor," Yoo-jin corrected. "People ignore delivery guys. It's the perfect camouflage."
"And me?" Eden asked.
Eden was dressed in a patient's gown. He looked... normal. Too normal.
"You are the patient," Yoo-jin said. "We're checking you in for 'exhaustion'. It gets us through the front gate."
"I do not feel exhausted," Eden said. "I feel anxious. My heart rate is 110."
"Good," Yoo-jin handed him a clipboard. "Use that anxiety. Look sick."
"Why are we doing this?" Min-ji asked, adjusting her wig. "Can't we just leak the info about the daughter?"
"Without proof, it's just a rumor," Yoo-jin said. "Chairman Lee will bury it. We need her testimony. Or her medical records."
He checked his watch.
"Ghost has disabled the perimeter cameras for a ten-minute window. We move now."
Pine Hill Sanatorium. Gangwon-do.
The facility was nestled in the mountains, surrounded by high fences and pine trees. It looked peaceful. It looked like a prison.
The Starforce van—repainted with a fake "Medi-Care" logo—pulled up to the gate.
A guard stepped out. He carried a stun baton.
"Delivery?" the guard asked, eyeing the van.
"Supplies for Dr. Choi," Yoo-jin said, leaning out the window. He held up a manifest forged by So-young. "Oxygen tanks and sedatives."
The guard scanned the barcode. It beeped green.
"And the passengers?"
"New admission," Yoo-jin jerked a thumb at the back. "VIP client. Needs discretion."
The guard looked in the back window. He saw Eden slumped in the seat, looking pale (thanks to Sae-ri's powder). Min-ji sat next to him, looking stern in her nurse uniform.
"Fine," the guard waved them through. "Service entrance."
They drove in.
Yoo-jin parked by the loading dock. His heart was hammering. This wasn't a concert. If they got caught here, Chairman Lee wouldn't sue them. He would disappear them.
"Min-ji, take Eden to reception. Make a scene if you have to. Keep them busy."
"Got it."
"Sae-ri, stay in the van. Keep the engine running."
"Don't die," Sae-ri said, gripping the wheel.
Yoo-jin grabbed a crate of oxygen tanks. He walked into the service corridor.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
He navigated the halls using a digital map on his phone. Ghost was guiding him.
"Left at the junction. Elevator to the 3rd floor. Room 304."
Yoo-jin reached the elevator. He pressed the button.
Ding.
The doors opened. A doctor stepped out.
Yoo-jin kept his head down, pushing the cart. "Excuse me."
The doctor ignored him, scrolling on his phone.
Yoo-jin exhaled. Invisibility confirmed.
He reached the 3rd floor. It was the high-security ward. Only three rooms.
Room 304.
A guard sat outside the door reading a comic book.
Yoo-jin pushed the cart up to him.
"Oxygen refill," Yoo-jin mumbled.
"Dr. Choi didn't order oxygen," the guard frowned, putting the book down.
"System error," Yoo-jin shrugged. "Office sent me anyway. You want me to take it back? It's heavy."
The guard hesitated. He didn't want to deal with logistics.
"Make it quick," the guard swiped his keycard.
The door beeped open.
Yoo-jin pushed the cart inside.
The room was stark white. Machines beeped rhythmically. In the bed lay a woman.
She was frail. Her hair was thin. Her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, unblinking.
Lee Ji-su.
Yoo-jin locked the door behind him. He approached the bed.
"Ji-su?" he whispered.
She didn't react.
He looked at the chart by the bed.
Patient: Lee Ji-su.
Status: Catatonic.
Last Incident: 2013.
The same year Version 1 died. The same year the System was rebooted.
Yoo-jin leaned closer.
"Ji-su. Can you hear me? I know about the System."
Her finger twitched.
"I know what your father did. I know about the noise."
Her eyes shifted. Slowly, painfully, she looked at him.
"Noise..." she croaked. Her voice was like dry leaves.
"Yes," Yoo-jin said. "The noise in your head. The stats. The pressure."
"Make it stop," she whispered. Tears leaked from her eyes. "He promised... to make it stop."
"Who promised?"
"Father," she said. "He said... if I was perfect... the noise would stop."
She grabbed Yoo-jin's wrist. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
"But it never stops. Even when I sleep. It counts... my dreams."
Yoo-jin felt a chill. She was still connected. Even here, in a coma, the System was haunting her. But the mainframe was destroyed. How?
Unless...
"Dragon isn't using the Ministry's System," Yoo-jin realized. "They built their own."
A private server. A local network running off the broken minds of failed prototypes.
"Where is the server, Ji-su?" Yoo-jin asked urgently. "Where does the noise come from?"
"The basement," she whispered. "The Red Room."
Suddenly, the door handle rattled.
"Hey! You done in there?" the guard shouted.
Yoo-jin pulled away. "One second!"
He looked at Ji-su.
"I'm going to stop it," he promised. "I'm going to silence the room."
She looked at him with tragic hope. "Please."
Yoo-jin turned to leave. But as he reached for the cart, he saw a file on the nightstand.
Transfer Orders.
He opened it.
Date: Tomorrow.
Destination: Dragon HQ.
Purpose: Re-integration.
They were moving her. Why?
"Hey!" The guard swiped his card again. The lock clicked.
Yoo-jin shoved the file into his jacket. He grabbed an oxygen tank.
The door opened.
The guard stepped in. "What's taking so—"
CLANG.
Yoo-jin swung the tank. It hit the guard in the temple. He crumpled like a sack of potatoes.
Yoo-jin panted, dropping the tank. He wasn't a fighter. His hands were shaking.
He looked at Ji-su one last time.
"Hang on," he said.
He ran out.
"Ghost!" he shouted into his headset. "Emergency extraction! Get the van to the front!"
He sprinted down the hall. Alarms began to blare.
WEOO-WEOO.
They knew.
Yoo-jin reached the stairwell. He took the steps three at a time.
He burst into the lobby.
Chaos.
Min-ji had flipped a table and was currently threatening a receptionist with a stapler. Eden was standing on the front desk, singing opera at the top of his lungs to distract security.
"Let's go!" Yoo-jin screamed.
Min-ji dropped the stapler. Eden jumped down.
They ran for the door.
Security guards swarmed from the side corridors.
"Stop them!"
They burst out into the sunlight. The van screeched around the corner, Sae-ri driving like a maniac. The side door slid open.
"Jump!" Sae-ri yelled.
They dove in. Eden first. Then Min-ji.
Yoo-jin grabbed the handle. A guard grabbed his jacket.
Yoo-jin spun around and kicked the guard in the knee. The guard let go with a grunt.
Yoo-jin hauled himself into the van.
"Drive!"
Sae-ri floored it. The van tires smoked, tearing up the asphalt. They smashed through the wooden barrier arm at the gate and roared onto the mountain road.
Yoo-jin lay on the floor of the van, gasping for air.
"Did you get it?" Min-ji asked, checking for injuries.
Yoo-jin pulled the crumbled file from his jacket.
"Better," he said. "I know where the Dragon keeps his heart."
He looked at the file.
"He's moving her to HQ tomorrow. He's going to try to reconnect her to the new network."
"Why?"
"Because she's the key," Yoo-jin realized. "She's the original host. If he plugs her back in... he can reboot the System. His version."
He looked at his team.
"We have 24 hours to stop him. Or the Nightmare starts all over again."