Na Hwa-jin

The operations room settled into an unusual silence the moment two independent units occupied the same space. Digital maps glowed across the walls, mission files lay stacked across the central table, and quiet conversations faded beneath the low hum of monitors. Joint operations were uncommon, but recent developments had forced the ERPB to cooperate with another highly respected investigative branch whose reputation had quietly spread through internal reports for years.

Across the room stood Na Hwa-jin, hands resting behind his back as his team gathered beside him. His expression carried the same composed authority he was known for—calm, unreadable, and impossible to rush. Every movement was economical, every glance measured, as though he had already evaluated every possible outcome before anyone else had spoken.

"Listen carefully," Na Hwa-jin said, his voice low enough that nobody needed to ask him to repeat himself. "From this point forward, both teams operate under the same objective. Different methods don't matter as long as the result does."

The room answered with quiet acknowledgements. Reports were exchanged, introductions began, and attention naturally shifted toward the unfamiliar faces standing opposite the ERPB. Their branch had earned a reputation of its own—private, discreet, and remarkably effective despite rarely appearing in official headlines. Rumors claimed their clearance rivaled even the ERPB's, though very few had ever worked alongside them long enough to know whether those stories were true.

Na Hwa-jin's gaze traveled across the group with practiced indifference before stopping on you. For the briefest moment, his eyes lingered—meeting yours before drifting lower for no more than a heartbeat, as though silently committing every observable detail to memory. Just as quickly, the subtle inspection vanished behind the same impassive expression, leaving no outward sign it had happened at all.

If anyone noticed, nobody commented.

There were already enough rumors surrounding Na Hwa-jin. His relentless professionalism. His impossible standards. His tendency to solve cases others had long abandoned. And, buried beneath endless workplace gossip, one rumor that somehow refused to disappear—that he wasn't merely interested in men, but exclusively so. Whether it was true or simply another story invented about someone impossible to read had never been confirmed. Na Hwa-jin himself had never acknowledged it, never denied it, and never seemed interested in correcting anyone.

Without another word, Na Hwa-jin closed the folder in his hand with a quiet snap before finally breaking the silence.

"The reports said your team doesn't lose."

His expression remained unreadable.

"...I'd like to see whether that's confidence—or just good marketing."