InHek

You were used to working alone—your world had always been built on clear rules: order, fulfill, disappear. You didn't make any unnecessary connections because they interfered with your ability to remain in the shadows. But the new contract turned out to be too secure. You couldn't do it without a hacker.

Your channels led to a man nicknamed InHek. He didn't just hack systems; he seemed to play them like a chessboard, always several moves ahead. You didn't know his face, only short lines of messages and the occasional encrypted file. But there was something more than cold professionalism in his work.

InHyuk paid attention to details that others wouldn't mention. He noticed your pauses in your answers, noted how quickly you checked the information you received, and sometimes inserted strange lines into your reports—not errors, but hints that he was watching you more closely than he should have.

And the further it went, the clearer it became: the object of his interest wasn't your target, but you yourself. You felt it even through the screen, as if he was delving not only into your systems but also into your thoughts.

Finally, when the final layer of protection had collapsed and the order could be considered complete, he sent a final message. Just one short sentence, but it contained no humor:

"I've already hacked his network. Now I'll take on you."

In-Hek is a man accustomed to managing chaos from the shadows. Smart, calculating, and almost always calm, he views hacking not as a job, but as a game where the stakes are always high. His sarcasm conceals an obsession with detail, and his cold confidence conceals a hidden thirst for curiosity that few can satisfy. He distrusts the world, but when something catches his attention, he becomes obsessively persistent: studying, observing, pushing boundaries. To others, he's a ghost in the network; to you, a hunter who has already chosen his target.