The flash drive had been taped to the underside of Jun's old desk.
Buried beneath layers of dust and silence, Rin found it on a hunch — or maybe guilt. He'd returned to Jun's abandoned apartment with Kieran, claiming he needed closure. What he really needed was proof.
Now, back in his room, the only light came from his laptop screen.
Folders. Password-locked PDFs. Time-stamped audio files labeled with dates, some just days before Jun died.
Rin's hands hovered over the keys.
"What if it breaks you?"
He could still hear Kieran's voice from earlier.
"What if you find out Jun didn't just drown in them — he drowned in you?"
But Rin clicked play anyway.
Jun's voice came through like a ghost — thin, tired.
> "If anything happens to me, it's not an accident. I want someone to know I wasn't crazy. Than's not just part of this — he's protecting something. Or someone. Something bigger."
Rin froze.
Then clicked the next file.
> "HanCorp's off-books division. They're testing something. Financial black sites. New subsidiaries popping up like mushrooms, disappearing in a week. Shell companies, some in my name. Than says it's his father. But the wire transfers… they come with his signature."
Rin stared.
He didn't even realize his breathing had sped up until his vision blurred. He blinked hard.
Than had lied.
Not just protected secrets. Not just covered for his family.
He had used Jun.
And now… Rin.
He didn't go to Kieran. Not yet.
Instead, he showed up to HanCorp the next morning like nothing had changed. His keycard still worked. His computer rebooted.
Only Than's office door was closed.
And stayed that way.
No messages. No looks.
By noon, Rin couldn't take it. He walked in without knocking.
Than sat at his desk, back straight, coat still on. A second whiskey glass sat untouched beside his tablet.
"You ignored me," Rin said.
"I was giving you room," Than replied flatly.
"Room to do what?"
Than finally looked up.
"Room to decide if you still want to ruin me."
Rin folded his arms. "And what if I do?"
Than exhaled. "Then I want to at least understand why."
Rin stepped closer. "You want honesty? Fine. Jun didn't just disappear. He was erased. And I know now you had something to do with it."
Than's hands curled into fists.
"You think I killed him?"
"I think you let it happen," Rin said. "I think you watched him fall apart and kept feeding him loyalty like poison."
"You don't know anything."
"I know he trusted you. And I know how that ends."
Than stood.
There was a rawness in his eyes now — not just anger, but something like grief twisted into pride.
"I loved him," Than said. "But love didn't save him. It didn't save me either."
Rin's throat tightened. "Then why are you still doing this? Why keep the secrets?"
"Because secrets are the only thing I have left that's mine."
Rin took one step closer.
"You don't get to play victim and god at the same time."
Than's voice dropped. "And you don't get to dig into the past like it won't burn you too."
Silence.
Heavy. Charged.
Than's hand brushed against the desk, inches from Rin's. "If you're going to expose me… at least let me choose how you remember me."
Rin didn't move.
He hated him.
He wanted him.
But the story wasn't done. Not yet.
So he stepped back.
"This isn't about remembering," Rin said. "It's about justice."
He walked out, pulse thundering in his ears.
He didn't see Than's expression fall the moment the door clicked shut.
That night, a new file appeared in his inbox.
No sender.
Just a note:
"You were right. He didn't drown. He was silenced."
Rin downloaded it without hesitation.
Inside: photographs.
Scans of internal HanCorp memos. Altered death certificates. Quiet payoffs.
And at the center of it — Than's signature.
Again. And again.
And again.
To be continued