Line 9: The Shadow Protocol

Seoul, South Korea

May 12, 2025

7:18 AM

Jisoo had almost managed to convince himself that this Monday would be an ordinary one.

Almost.

He stood at the kitchen counter in a T-shirt and sweatpants, chewing on a cold samgak-gimbap [1] and sipping canned coffee.

At the same time, music suddenly started playing from the living room. The television had turned itself on to the morning news.

Jisoo glanced over curiously, not the least bit surprised by the strange behavior of the device.

A caption appeared in the lower-right corner of the screen:

THE NEW DIGITAL SECURITY SYSTEM IS READY FOR PUBLIC USE.

“What? Are you showing off now?” he asked the empty room.

He slowly approached the television and watched the screen. The camera showed the news anchor standing in front of a modern building somewhere in the center of the city.

“KoryoSec Solutions, South Korea’s leading cybersecurity innovator, has announced the launch of Haetae.EYE. It is an autonomous threat-tracking system that combines deep learning, adaptive forensics, and quantum-encrypted telemetry.”

A sharply dressed man appeared on the screen.

Jisoo raised an intrigued eyebrow. A thin, teasing smile appeared on his lips.

The caption beneath the man changed to:

Jin Minseok — Chief Technology Officer

The interview continued.

“We have already learned that the world we know is vulnerable. We have faced threats unlike anything we’ve seen before. The ability to detect and prevent them in time is essential. We are proud to announce that Haetae.EYE is finally ready to take on that role.”

Jisoo realized he was unconsciously nodding along with the director’s words.

The focus shifted back to the reporter.

“KoryoSec has announced that Haetae.EYE has already prevented major security breaches during its closed testing. And that’s not all. Our sources claim that Haetae.EYE played a key role in preventing the major crisis involving artificial intelligence. Is that true, Director Jin?”

“You know I can’t disclose any details. All I can say is that Haetae.EYE will be of enormous benefit to our society and will actively serve as a guardian of our digital world.”

“But how can we be sure that Haetae.EYE itself won’t become a threat to us? After all, Haetae.EYE is also based on artificial intelligence,” the reporter challenged him.

The director paused briefly, gathering his thoughts before answering.

“Haetae.EYE possesses something no other artificial intelligence has — an emotional compass. Haetae can distinguish between good and evil and will not be swayed by someone else’s judgment if it conflicts with its moral principles. It also possesses what I like to call a digital ‘sixth sense’ for security.”

The reporter interrupted him.

“What exactly does that mean?”

“To put it simply, it is an intelligent system designed to monitor, identify, and prevent threats across the internet and computer networks before they happen.”

“So you guarantee that it won’t be dangerous?” the reporter pressed.

“Absolutely. For Haetae.EYE, human life is the priority.”

“Why did you choose that particular name for the project?”

The director couldn’t quite hide the pride in his voice.

“As we know, the mythical creature Haetae is a symbol of our city. It is a creature that can sense lies and punish evil. That is why we chose it. We wanted it to become a symbol of security.”

The director smiled mysteriously before adding:

“Haetae.EYE will monitor the digital world: network traffic, data, servers, systems. Literally everything.”

The camera returned to the reporter, who nodded approvingly.

“Thank you for that fascinating information. That’s all for today.”

Jisoo finished the last sip of his coffee and was just heading toward his bedroom when the phone on the kitchen counter began to vibrate.

Incoming call: Ajusshi [2]

Jisoo answered without hesitation.

“Seonbae [3]! I just saw you on TV... Looks like the marriage proposals are about to start pouring in.”

The director quickly cut him off.

“Wait, Jisoo... That’s not important right now. Something happened.”

The director’s voice did not sound like that of a man calling on a Monday morning just to wish someone a good week.

Jisoo sighed.

“What happened?” he asked as he took one last bite of his gimbap. His appetite suddenly disappeared.

Apparently, his peaceful life was about to fall apart.

He had managed to hold on to it for only two weeks.

Two weeks without that familiar knot of fear in his stomach — the fear that human lives depended on the decisions he made.

Jisoo had just made the decision to start over. To live an ordinary life filled with ordinary things. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of the past and that he would stop searching for answers to dangerous questions.

Most of all, he had promised himself that he would never allow anyone to steal his life from him.

Not the way they had stolen Park Hyunwoo’s.

The director interrupted his thoughts.

“Let’s not talk about this over the phone, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“I need you. Can you come to the office today?”

Jisoo sighed again. His two weeks of peace were officially over.

“Okay. I’ll come. I’m leaving now.”

A short while later, backpack slung over his shoulder, Jisoo headed for the office. It was still early, and the small cafés and shops were just opening. The smell of freshly brewed coffee made him slow his pace for a moment, but he kept going. If the director was waiting for him that urgently, he was already going to be late enough.

Fortunately, his apartment was only a few minutes’ walk from Dangsan Station. From there, the trip to Yeouido was short and convenient.

By the time he emerged from the subway station, the city had already begun to wake up.

Soon, the familiar glass-and-steel building rose before him. KoryoSec Solutions occupied the top two floors. From the street, the company was almost invisible — a small sign beside the entrance and nothing more.

Jisoo preferred it that way.

People who came to KoryoSec usually weren’t looking for the most famous company on the market. They came when something had already gone seriously wrong and they could no longer afford mistakes. Data theft, network breaches, compromised systems — cases other companies preferred to leave alone.

He passed through the revolving doors and brought his badge to the reader.

KORYOSEC SOLUTIONS – AUTHORIZED ACCESS

Yoon Jisoo – 윤지수

Senior Systems Analyst

A short beep sounded, and the security system allowed him through.

Jisoo took the elevator to his floor. The offices were quiet and sterile. There were no colorful beanbag chairs, pool tables, or noisy employees tossing balls between desks. Just gray walls, dim LED lighting, and rows of workstations whose monitors were already glowing.

He nodded to a few colleagues and headed toward his office.

Incident Response Department.

His territory.

This was where he handled the company’s most sensitive cases—network forensics, breach analysis, and anything that required someone to spend enough time alone with the data to understand what had actually happened.

And that was exactly why he worked alone.

Jisoo tossed his backpack onto the chair, sat down, and powered on his computer. While he waited for the system to load, he picked up his phone.

“Seonbae, I’m at the office.”

“I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Okay.”

He set the phone down on his desk and stared at the black screen, where his own face was reflected back at him.

Then the system finished loading.

The first warnings began appearing in large red letters:

>> PROTOCOL EPSILON... ACTIVATED

>> EXTERNAL INFLUENCE DETECTED... CONFIRMED

>> SYSTEM INTEGRITY CHECK... IN PROGRESS

>> THE GUARDIAN IS ONLINE...

>> HUMAN INTERVENTION REQUIRED.

>> AUTHORIZED GUARDIAN: YOON JISOO

>> CONNECTION CONFIRMED.

Jisoo shot upright in his chair.

“God...”

His fingers froze above the keyboard.

“Not again.”

His thoughts flew backward through time. To his best friend.

Park Hyunwoo.

He was gone now. Suicide, they had said.

But Jisoo knew the story wasn’t that simple. Hyunwoo would never have taken his own life. Jisoo knew that better than anyone.

Because in the end, Hyunwoo had sacrificed himself to save Jisoo’s life.

[1] Gimbap (also spelled kimbap) is a Korean dish consisting of rice and various fillings rolled in sheets of dried seaweed. Unlike Japanese sushi, the rice is traditionally seasoned with sesame oil rather than vinegar, and the fillings usually include cooked meat, eggs, imitation crab, and vegetables rather than raw fish.

[2] Ajusshi (아저씨) is a Korean term used to address a middle-aged or older man. Depending on context, it can be translated as “sir,” “mister,” or “uncle.”

[3] Seonbae (선배) is a Korean term generally used to refer to someone senior or more experienced in a particular field, such as at work or school.

Next on Line 9:

Two friends. An impossible phone call. And a dead man.