Phantom Division

Maybe every extraordinary story begins long before anyone realizes that something extraordinary is happening.

For Park Ha Eun, it began when she was a baby.

It was late at night when a woman approached an orphanage carrying a baby in her arms.

She wore a long cloak, and beneath her feet, dry leaves shuffled and crackled with every step.

She stopped in front of the orphanage.

Without saying a word, she placed the baby down.

Then she turned away and left.

She didn't leave a note.

There was no identification card.

No name.

No explanation.

Nothing that could tell anyone who the baby was, where she came from, or why she had been abandoned.

The orphanage had received abandoned children before. Usually, there was at least something—a name written on a piece of paper, a bracelet, a birth record, anything that could give the child an identity.

But this baby had nothing.

So the director gave her a name.

She was named after the orphanage.

And that name became the only identity she knew.

Park Ha Eun grew up differently from the other children.

From a very young age, she absorbed information at an unusual speed.

She learned things without needing to be taught repeatedly. Her mind was constantly moving, jumping from one thought to another, noticing things that other people overlooked and remembering things that everyone else seemed to forget.

By seven, she could speak two languages fluently and was learning a third.

One of her teachers spoke Spanish. Ha Eun listened to her every day, slowly absorbing the language until she could understand and speak it herself.

There was also a woman at the orphanage who had been born in France and understood French. The woman often watched French shows, and Ha Eun would sit nearby.

Nobody formally taught her.

She simply watched.

Listened.

Remembered.

And learned.

But her intelligence was always considered a gift.

At seven, Ha Eun started correcting the nuns during dinner.

Sometimes it was about the food.

Sometimes it was about the way they explained something.

Sometimes it was simply because someone had said something that she knew wasn't correct.

She did the same thing with her teacher.

The teacher was paid by a sponsor, and the lessons were important because they were among the few educational opportunities the children had outside regular school.

But Ha Eun constantly questioned the teacher's methods.

She would point out mistakes.

Ask why something was being done a certain way.

Suggest another way of solving a problem.

Correct something she believed was wrong.

Eventually, the teacher became tired of it.

She quit.

The sponsor didn't immediately find another teacher, and the lessons stopped.

The other children weren't exactly pleased with Ha Eun either.

They thought she was difficult.

Disrespectful.

Annoying.

But Ha Eun never really understood why.

She wasn't trying to be difficult.

Her mind simply moved too quickly.

If she noticed something, she wanted to understand it.

If something didn't make sense, she questioned it.

If someone said something she knew was wrong, remaining silent felt almost impossible.

She couldn't understand why everyone else didn't notice the same things she did.

Her brain never seemed to stop.

And it became increasingly difficult for the adults around her to manage.

By the time she was fourteen, the orphanage had had enough.

They were supposed to care for an orphan until eighteen.

But Ha Eun didn't make it that far.

They released her at fourteen.

She knew it wasn't right.

She knew she was too young.

But she didn't complain.

Partly because she knew she had been treated unfairly.

And partly because, if she was being honest with herself, she was tired of the orphanage too.

They gave her a small amount of money and a few basic belongings.

Then she left.

A fourteen-year-old girl, alone in the world.

Ha Eun found a tiny apartment and began taking care of herself.

She went to school.

She worked part-time jobs whenever she could find them.

She washed dishes.

Worked in stores.

Made deliveries.

Did whatever work she could find to keep herself fed and keep a roof over her head.

She looked young, but there was something about the way she spoke and carried herself that made people assume she was older.

And Ha Eun didn't exactly correct them.

At fifteen, something happened that would completely change her life.

One morning, on her way to school, Ha Eun accidentally bumped into a man.

Both of them were carrying printed documents.

Ha Eun had school project materials with her. She often helped teachers with projects and assignments, so carrying stacks of papers wasn't unusual for her.

The man was carrying documents of his own.

Neither of them paid much attention to the other.

They apologized, gathered the papers that had fallen, and continued on their way.

Except they had made a mistake.

They had accidentally picked up each other's documents.

Ha Eun didn't realize it immediately.

It wasn't until she got to school that she noticed.

She looked at the document in her hand.

Then she frowned.

It wasn't hers.

She remembered the man's face, of course.

She had photographic memory.

But she hadn't really looked at him properly.

She didn't know his name.

She didn't know where he worked.

And, at first, she didn't particularly care.

He could reprint his document.

Just like she could reprint hers.

The only thing that annoyed her was the extra money she would have to spend printing another copy.

But then she looked at the document again.

There was a case inside it.

And something about it caught her attention.

Ha Eun tried to ignore it.

She really did.

But her mind wouldn't let it go.

By the time she got home, she was still thinking about it.

Her curiosity took over.

She read the document.

Then she read it again.

She analyzed the information.

She noticed connections that hadn't been obvious.

One clue led to another.

And another.

What had started as curiosity slowly became an obsession.

The case was complicated.

Professionals had struggled with it.

There were missing connections, contradictory information, and details that didn't seem to fit together.

Ha Eun kept working.

She didn't sleep properly that night.

She kept thinking.

Eventually, she saw it.

The connection everyone else had missed.

The case wasn't what it appeared to be.

There was an arms-trading organization involved.

They weren't ordinary criminals.

They operated through layers of people and businesses, moving weapons through hidden channels and maintaining relationships with criminal groups and powerful clients.

The organization had been under investigation for some time.

Then one of their important clients was murdered.

The obvious explanation was that the organization had killed him.

Perhaps he had decided to betray them.

Perhaps he was planning to expose the business.

So investigators began following the available customer list.

People were arrested.

Names were investigated.

But something didn't make sense.

The list was too clean.

Too convenient.

There were transactions that didn't seem to fit.

The organization had been operating for a long time. It made no sense that its entire network would be sitting neatly inside one list that investigators could simply discover.

Ha Eun began asking a different question.

What if the list was never meant to be complete?

What if someone wanted investigators to find it?

She went back to the murder.

If the organization valued its customers, why kill one of them?

There had to be another reason.

Maybe the dead client knew someone important.

Maybe he had discovered something inside the organization that he wasn't supposed to know.

And if he knew something dangerous, killing him could have been less about preventing him from exposing the organization and more about hiding something much bigger.

Then Ha Eun considered the people at the top.

There were two CEOs.

But she didn't believe they were the masterminds.

They might be powerful.

They might run the visible side of the organization.

But a criminal operation that complicated had to have something beneath it.

Someone else.

Someone hidden.

And if the organization had deliberately allowed investigators to find an incomplete customer list, then someone inside had either anticipated the investigation or was clever enough to manipulate it.

There could even be a spy inside the police.

Or one extremely clever person among the organization's executives.

Ha Eun stared at the papers.

Then she smiled.

She had solved it.

The problem was that she had no intention of telling anyone.

Because she understood something else.

If she exposed herself as the person who solved the case, the criminals could eventually find her.

And if she had identified something important about their organization, their associates could come looking for her.

Why would she do that?

Where was the fun in simply showing herself?

So she kept quiet.

She returned the document.

And she went back to her ordinary life.

The next day, on her way to her convenience-store job, Ha Eun saw a huge billboard showing a newly established organization dedicated to fighting different forms of crime.

Then she saw him.

The man from the previous day.

She recognized him immediately.

Her memory never failed her.

She finally understood where the document had come from.

He worked for the organization.

Ha Eun decided to return it properly.

She went there disguised as a delivery worker.

She actually did delivery jobs, so the disguise wasn't particularly difficult.

She didn't even have a delivery for that building that day.

She simply walked in, left the file, and left.

Then she returned to her normal life.

Days passed.

The man eventually asked a simple question.

"Who was this file delivered to?"

Nobody knew.

Everyone denied receiving it.

He opened the file.

Then froze.

It was the document he had lost.

Except something was different.

The case had been solved.

The case their best people had struggled with had somehow been solved by whoever had returned the file.

Someone had taken it.

Read it.

Analyzed it.

Solved the case.

And returned it without leaving a name.

The man couldn't remember the person's face properly.

They hadn't looked at each other long enough.

But Ha Eun remembered him perfectly.

And the organization hadn't forgotten her.

Ha Eun continued with school and work.

She applied to the university she had always dreamed of attending.

Her results were impressive.

Her qualifications were excellent.

She expected to get in.

She didn't.

The reason given was her age.

She was too young.

Ha Eun accepted the explanation.

For the moment.

She decided she would simply wait until she turned eighteen and apply again.

She had only a few months left.

She didn't know that the organization was still looking for her.

Ha Eun had always been careful around surveillance cameras.

She had an unusual interest in knowing where cameras were positioned and tried to avoid them whenever possible.

But no matter how careful a person was, avoiding every camera was almost impossible.

Eventually, one camera caught something useful.

The organization began searching.

At first, they couldn't identify her.

Then they searched again.

And again.

Eventually, they narrowed it down to a seventeen-year-old orphan who worked at a convenience store and did deliveries.

Park Ha Eun.

But they weren't completely certain.

So the man decided to test her.

He approached her.

He asked questions.

Ha Eun immediately recognized him.

That was the problem.

She knew she had avoided the cameras.

So how could he possibly know it was her?

She watched his expression.

His tone.

His hesitation.

And then she realized something.

He wasn't completely sure.

He was bluffing.

He was trying to make her believe he knew everything.

Ha Eun decided to play along.

The man continued pressing her.

Eventually, he faced her.

"I'll buy you whatever drink you want."

"No, thank you."

"Then you'll have to follow me for the drinks."

She looked at him suspiciously.

"Unless you'd prefer a formal police invitation to our office."

Ha Eun narrowed her eyes.

"Are you threatening me?"

"No."

He smiled.

"But I think you'd like to hear what I know."

She stared at him for a moment.

"Fine."

Then she added:

"But you're taking me shopping."

His smile disappeared.

"What?"

"If you can afford to threaten me with the police, you can afford to take me shopping."

He frowned.

"If you can't, I'll take the police invitation."

He sighed.

"Let's go."

Then, with an almost irritating amount of confidence, he added:

"I'm rich."

Ha Eun side-eyed him.

"Okay."

They went to a Fendi store.

Ha Eun normally only got Fendi through thrift shopping.

She had never bought directly from the store.

So naturally, she chose it specifically to annoy him.

She walked through the store with a completely expressionless face, picking things up one after another.

Shirts.

Belts.

Accessories.

She maintained a perfect poker face.

Inside her head, however, she was screaming.

How could a shirt cost that much?

Who was buying these belts?

This place was heavenly.

She wanted everything.

She just wasn't going to let him know that.

Then the man looked at her.

"So you are seventeen."

"Yeah."

"And so?"

He looked at her.

"You work at a convenience store."

She said nothing.

"And you make deliveries."

Still nothing.

"That's strange."

He continued.

"Those jobs usually require adults, or teenagers with parental consent."

Ha Eun's expression changed slightly.

"I also know you're an orphan."

She froze for half a second.

The man smiled.

"Genius can mess up too."

Ha Eun realized her mistake.

She had confirmed her age.

He knew she was seventeen.

She looked at him.

"So what? Are you going to report me?"

He said nothing.

"Make a poor kid homeless?"

Nothing.

"Destroy my future?"

"Nope."

He smiled.

"Not the gaslighting kid."

He knew exactly what she was doing.

"I already did my research. I know a lot about you. Of course, you're special. But I prepared for everything a smart mind would do."

Ha Eun stared at him.

Then she dropped the poker face.

She picked up the cart and pushed it toward the cashier.

"Fine."

The cashier began calculating the total.

Ha Eun stood beside the cart.

The cashier looked at the screen.

Then looked at them.

"The total is $700,643."

Ha Eun remained perfectly calm.

The man stared at her.

She looked at him.

"You'll pay cash."

"Cash?"

"Your card isn't with you."

He stared at her for a moment.

Then smiled.

"You're not only smart."

He shook his head.

"You're sneaky."

"Well done."

He paid.

Cash.

Then collected the bags.

They walked out of the store.

"I'll buy dinner," he said.

Ha Eun looked at him.

"Why?"

"I have a lot to say."

He glanced at the bags.

"And I can't exactly starve a poor kid after all that gaslighting."

She shrugged.

"Fine."

They went to a luxurious restaurant.

The moment Ha Eun walked inside, she was stunned.

But she refused to show it.

Poker face.

Always.

A waiter approached them.

"Good afternoon. Would you like the menu?"

Ha Eun looked around.

"We'll have the signature short ribs and seafood pasta."

The waiter blinked.

"You must be a first-time customer."

He smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry I didn't recognize you."

"No problem, Alex."

The waiter froze.

Ha Eun looked at him innocently.

His name tag was inside his pocket.

He hadn't shown it.

"You noticed?"

"You look like someone who would be named Alex."

He stared at her.

Then quickly walked away.

The man across the table looked at Ha Eun.

"You've never been here before."

"No."

"Then how did you know the signature dish?"

"You can guess."

He waited.

Ha Eun gestured around the restaurant.

"It smells like beef."

She pointed toward a poster showing a seafood dish.

"And there's a poster showing seafood."

Then she glanced at a nearby couple.

"They're eating exactly what I ordered."

She paused.

"They look like first-time customers. They probably asked the waiter what he recommended, and he would naturally recommend the restaurant's popular or signature dishes."

She shrugged.

"So I rounded it up and guessed."

The man stared at her.

She hadn't even seemed to be paying attention.

Yet somehow, she had noticed everything.

Then his expression changed.

"You've been lying."

Ha Eun looked at him.

"About what?"

"About not getting that file."

She stayed silent.

"That was two years and some months ago."

Ha Eun slowly leaned back.

He continued.

"How did you solve it?"

She didn't answer.

"And why didn't you come for a reward?"

Ha Eun finally sighed.

"Fine. You caught me."

She looked at him.

"I didn't come for a reward because that would have exposed me."

He listened.

"If I had shown up and said I solved the case, I'd be putting myself in danger."

She paused.

"The organization was dealing in arms. If I helped identify something that could expose them, their associates could come after me."

She looked down at her food.

"Where is the fun if I just showed myself?"

The man said nothing.

Ha Eun continued.

"I also thought their list wasn't complete."

"Why?"

"Because the business had been going on for a long time. They wouldn't suddenly have their entire operation sitting in one list waiting for someone to discover it."

She leaned forward.

"Who would kill one of their clients before the police could arrest him?"

The man watched her carefully.

"They value their customers. So why kill one?"

Ha Eun tapped the table lightly.

"Unless something else was going on."

She continued explaining her reasoning.

"At first, I thought they kept a list of their clients. When a man was killed, the police assumed he wanted to snitch on the organization. So they killed him."

She shook her head.

"But that didn't explain everything."

"There was either a spy inside the police..."

She paused.

"Or one extremely clever person among the organization's executives."

The man remained silent.

"I don't think the two CEOs were the real masterminds."

"Why?"

"They might not rat him out. Once they're released, they could restart the business."

She looked directly at him.

"Maybe even better than before."

"The dead client knew him."

The man's expression changed.

Ha Eun noticed.

She always noticed.

The waiter eventually returned with the food.

Except it wasn't Alex.

Ha Eun looked at him.

"I guess I freaked him out."

The waiter placed the plates down.

Then he looked at her.

"Excuse me, your neighbor or lover, whichever..."

He gestured toward the couple nearby.

Ha Eun looked at them.

She understood immediately.

"Oh my God."

She looked back at the waiter.

"I guess both. Interesting."

The waiter stared at her.

Ha Eun smiled.

"Before you start thinking I'm psychic or something, I noticed they smell like the same detergent."

She pointed subtly.

"They probably wash their clothes together."

"Same body cream."

She glanced again.

"Same cologne."

"Their wristwatches are the same."

"Same brand of shoes."

She leaned back.

"And they both have the same weird stain beside the heel."

The waiter stared.

"They probably live in the same area and stepped on the same thing."

She shrugged.

"Am I right?"

She smiled.

"Well, it's just a guess."

The waiter dropped the food slightly and quickly walked away.

The man stared at her.

"What?"

Ha Eun smiled.

"I thought you did your research."

She glanced at his glasses.

"Or perhaps your colleague researching me while drinking chamomile tea didn't tell you everything."

He stared at her.

She smiled.

"I noticed the mini speaker in your glasses."

She tilted her head.

"I guessed your colleague would be someone who drinks chamomile tea."

A smirk appeared on her face.

"And probably a lady."

The man slowly took off his glasses

"Enough with the analysis."

He placed them on the table.

Then he looked at her.

"So you're saying there's a final boss?"

Ha Eun shrugged.

"I guess so."

"And we'll continue after the release?"

"I guess so."

He sighed.

"Finish your meal."

He stood.

"Thanks for your service. That's all."

Ha Eun clicked her tongue.

"Tsk. Too bad."

She waved.

"Bye."

Then she added casually:

"Oh, and pay Miranda the cashier."

He stopped.

"Be kind to her."

"Why?"

"She hates men."

He stared.

"Why?"

"A man stole her girlfriend."

The man looked like he had reached his limit.

"I can't stand being here anymore."

He looked at her suspiciously.

"At this point, I feel like my biggest secret is going to be exposed just by the way I breathe."

Ha Eun smiled.

"And I'm not going to ask how you know that about Miranda."

He walked away.

At the reception desk, he slowed down and spoke politely.

He paid.

Then left only a small tip.

He didn't want Miranda getting the wrong idea.

Outside, Ha Eun eventually finished her meal and walked toward the door.

Miranda waved at her.

"Are you okay?"

Ha Eun stopped.

"Yes."

"Was that man disturbing you?"

Miranda lowered her voice.

"I know men are scum."

Ha Eun stared at her.

Then slowly said:

"No."

She paused.

"He's my dad."

Miranda's eyes widened.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!"

Ha Eun smiled.

"No problem. It happens."

Miranda immediately began apologizing and wishing her well.

Then she handed Ha Eun a bag.

Inside were souvenirs.

Towels.

Napkins.

Chocolates.

Candies.

Gift items.

Even coupons for special customers.

Ha Eun accepted everything.

"Thank you."

She walked outside.

A taxi took her home.

Once inside, she looked down at the bag.

A small smile appeared on her face.

"I knew I would get a free gift if I said he was my dad.