𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐍 ✔️

# 5 | UNDER THE SURFACE

SAN

San's office was everything a man in his line of work could want: sleek, modern, and almost disturbingly pristine. A floor-to-ceiling window stretched along one side of the room, offering a panoramic view of the city that sprawled beneath him. From this high vantage point, the noise of the bustling streets below seemed almost unreal, a distant hum compared to the silence of the room. His desk, a dark mahogany masterpiece, held only the essentials—a few scattered files, a laptop, a single glass of water, and a phone that had just begun to ring.

San's eyes flickered toward the phone as it buzzed on the corner of his desk. He didn't even need to check the number to know who it was. His fingers paused over the keys of his laptop, momentarily halted by the realization that his day was about to get busier.

He answered the call without hesitation.

"San," a calm voice greeted from the other end, its tone smooth and calculated. "We need to discuss the matter."

It was a voice that belonged to one of his most trusted contacts—a man who rarely needed introductions. Their business was delicate, built on years of mutual respect, and it had kept them both alive in a world where trust was a rare commodity.

San leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he listened, his mind already moving to the task ahead. The conversation was brief but pointed, a flurry of coded language and instructions that only made sense to those on the inside.

"I'll handle it," San replied quietly. "But it's going to take more than just a clean exit this time. We need to set up the right distractions."

The voice on the other end hummed in agreement. "We trust you to make it happen."

San disconnected the call and let out a sharp exhale, his body relaxing into the chair. The phone call had been expected, but it still weighed on him. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening as he glanced toward the far side of the room where a single file sat—a file he had been avoiding for the last few days.

This was no ordinary business. San had built his reputation from the ground up, creating a security company that was a front for much more than just protection services. Behind the scenes, his company was involved in operations that ran the full spectrum of the underworld. Information trafficking, political pressure, and even the occasional... elimination.

And while he was careful to keep the more unsavory elements hidden from the public, those who mattered, those who were involved in the darker parts of the city, knew exactly who he was.

San was not a man to be underestimated. He was both a businessman and a shadow figure—his actions spoke louder than any words could. There was a reason Seonghwa trusted him, a reason his employees respected him, and a reason certain individuals feared him.

He glanced at his phone, a text from Wooyoung blinking on the screen. He tapped the message open. *"Everything alright?"* it read.

For a moment, he considered the question. Everything *was* alright—at least, on the surface. But beneath it, things were shifting. The phone call, the file on his desk, the tension in Seonghwa's voice the other night—it all pointed toward something bigger.

San texted back a simple response. *"Yeah. I'll be at the club later. Don't worry."*

As he set the phone back down, he stared at the file again. This was the job that had started it all—the job that had escalated, pulled in more dangerous people, and caused ripples in the carefully structured world San had built.

The file contained everything: names, locations, connections. The kind of people who didn't just vanish. The kind of people who left behind a trail of destruction if they were crossed.

He had been tasked with taking them out, quietly, without drawing too much attention. But the complexity of this one—who was involved, where they were hiding—it would take all of his expertise and more.

San stood up from his desk, moving toward the large wall-mounted safe in the corner of the room. The door opened with a soft click, and he pulled out a black binder, flipping through its pages, reviewing the intel he had gathered. These were the kind of people who operated without fear of consequences. People who, if they found out about the deal he had going, would come after him, come after everyone he cared about.

And San didn't care about people often.

But when he did, he protected them.

He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, slipping his phone into the pocket. There were still things to finish before the night was over, but this job, this business—it was calling to him. He had to act fast before the situation spun out of control.

Before anyone else got hurt.

The underground garage was dimly lit, its cold, metallic walls reflecting the faint glow of streetlights filtering in from above. San's car slid silently into an empty space at the far end, its engine purring as it coasted to a stop. The city outside was alive with movement, but here, it was quiet, isolated from the chaos above.

A figure stepped out of the shadows as San approached, his face obscured by the brim of a baseball cap. San knew better than to ask questions about anonymity in this line of work. The fewer details, the better.

"Everything in order?" San asked, his voice low but sharp, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

The man nodded, his hands tucked into the pockets of his worn jacket. "Your contact's already been alerted. They'll have everything they need when the time comes." His eyes flickered nervously as he glanced toward the black SUV parked nearby. "But we're not the only ones watching."

San's lips pressed together, a slight frown forming as he considered the news. It was always like this—too many people involved, too many eyes watching. But that was the nature of the game. When you were in San's line of work, there were always multiple layers of danger.

"What about the other team?" San asked, his gaze fixed on the man's eyes now. "Have they confirmed?"

"Soon," the man replied, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Everything's in motion. But... there's something you should know. Someone's been asking around about your operations. It's not just a coincidence."

San raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

The man shook his head, lips pressed tightly together. "I don't know yet. But someone's digging too deep."

A cold surge of tension went through San's chest, but his face remained stoic. "Keep me updated. If anyone gets in my way, they'll be dealt with."

The man nodded and turned, disappearing back into the shadows, his footsteps fading in the distance.

San stood there for a moment, staring into the darkness. His hand instinctively reached for the gun at his hip. He didn't pull it out, but the weight was enough to remind him of the stakes.

This was far from over.

San returned to his office, the night weighing heavily on his shoulders. His phone buzzed again. Another message from Wooyoung.

"You still coming to the club?"

San didn't reply immediately. His mind was elsewhere—focused on the job ahead, the security risks, the unexpected danger that loomed just beyond the horizon. The work was relentless, but that was how he liked it. There was always something to fix, someone to protect, something to be done.

He finally sent a brief reply: "I'll be there soon."

The moment he left his office, he locked the door behind him, his thoughts swirling in quiet anticipation. He would deal with whatever came next. That was the business he had built. After all, he didn't stay at the top by being passive.