Seonghwa clutched his belongings tightly to his chest, his fingers gripping the worn leather of his bag as if it could anchor him against the tide of rising anxiety. His eyes traced the jagged skyline, settling on the imposing form of Kim Enterprises that towered above the city like a fortress. The sheer size of the building made it seem as though it reached endlessly into the gray sky, its reflective windows casting back the dull light in cold flashes. The shadows it cast over the surrounding streets were long and unnerving, stretching out like dark fingers eager to engulf anything—or anyone—in their path.
Each hesitant step he took toward the building felt like wading through quicksand. His stomach churned with a growing sense of dread, the kind that curled in the pit of his gut and threatened to rise up, leaving a bitter taste at the back of his throat. The tight coil of nerves in his chest constricted with every breath, the pulse in his ears growing louder, quicker, more frantic, as though his body was warning him to turn back before it was too late. But he couldn't. He had to push through the invisible barrier that threatened to paralyze him right there on the sidewalk.
He inhaled deeply, trying to settle his racing thoughts, but the air felt thick, weighed down by the unrelenting bustle around him. Employees passed him in waves, each one dressed impeccably in tailored suits, their strides purposeful and efficient. Seonghwa couldn't help but feel out of place amidst them—these people who seemed to belong in this world of glass, steel, and sharp angles. Their faces were impassive, eyes forward, their confidence practically oozing from their poised posture as they entered and exited the building with ease. It was as though they were part of some unspoken hierarchy, a well-oiled machine that he was unprepared to join.
There was no laughter here, no casual conversations or familiar exchanges that one might expect outside an office at the start of a new day. The air around Kim Enterprises was sterile, frigid, like the building itself was devoid of any warmth or humanity. The very atmosphere seemed to hum with tension, an unspoken understanding that only the strong survived in these halls. A shiver crawled up Seonghwa's spine as the reality of it settled over him—this place was not like anywhere he'd been before.
His heart raced as he neared the entrance, the massive glass doors reflecting his pale face back at him, a stark contrast to the confident strides of those passing by. The knot in his stomach tightened as he forced himself to move forward, every instinct screaming at him to turn around, to flee from this place that already felt so suffocating. But he had no choice. There was no turning back now.
Seonghwa swallowed hard, casting one last glance at the skyscrapers towering above him. The building's presence was overwhelming, as if it was silently reminding him of the sheer power it held over the city—and now, over him.
