2. the first hour
Night time.
The entire city is asleep, zonked out for the remainder of the night. Trying to get ample rest before the next work day, a little shut eye before returning to careers again for another cycle of dough-reeling.
While they're asleep, he's awake.
"What would you like tonight, sir?"
The sleepy Japanese café worker waits for him to order. At 10:30 PM, the late night café is basically abandoned, dimly lit save for a few neon lights flickering in the corner. The pinkish lights are homely, reminding him of a certain bar he used to order at. His gaze lingers on them for a beat too long.
"Sir?"
He rolls out his neck, bounces on the balls of his heels.
"Um...something with a lot of caffeine. I don't know. The uh, let's go with a warm caramel macchiato, three espresso shots."
He almost considers ordering a certain signature chocolate frappe with extra whip cream, extra chocolate sauce, and three extra scoops of sugar. Then he realizes the sugar addict isn't with him. He's alone in Tokyo, with no one but his close assistant.
While his order is mixing, he toys with the wedding band on his left hand. He never expected a situation like this to happen, much less to their company. Why anyone would hold beef against Pluto Rooms boggled him to no end.
Who would target their company in a cyber attack? A loner who couldn't get paired up with a partner in the system? Someone jealous of the rampant success Pluto Rooms had amassed during the four years it had operated? A random hater dedicated to making their life a living Satan's quarters?
He sighs, bumping his dress shoes together. His feet are sore from walking around the Tokyo Business Suites building all day, speaking with several investors about a PR expansion to Europe and the Middle East.
He'd spent so much time walking up and down staircases than was normal for him. Usually, Converse handled the long distance walks, the sweet talk, the business pitches. Jimin was perfectly cut out for persuasion tactics, strategizing with figureheads. Handling finances, mitigating disputes.
He was better cut out for designing maps. Art, romance, piecing together pixels in strangely refreshing ways. He was gaga for digital 3D creations.
"Your order is ready..." The sleepy Japanese worker checks the name on the macchiato cup. "Um...Jikook?"
A small smile peeps onto his lips. He reaches for the cup. "Yes, that's me, thank you. Have a nice night."
He nurses the steaming cup by his chest as he emerges into the Tokyo night. Lights glimmer and flash under thinly distributed smog like a dirty diamond waiting to be purchased by the gods of night. The lighting reminds him of one of Perilation's misty, creepy game maps. Nerve-wracking, yet enjoyable.
The phone in his pocket suddenly buzzes. He frowns, fishing it out as quickly as he can.
He answers. "Hey, yeah, where are you? I just got something at the café outside the hotel."
Jungkook starts walking down the street, avoiding the garbage in the road as he speaks on the phone. A few questionable people are out at this hour, either drinking in the bars or scanning the area for victims. Odd scents waft in the air. Tangy chicken, rotten fish, and potent cleaning supplies. Cigarette smoke trails along in slow-sweeping waves in dreary afterthoughts. The troubled part of the population is out at this hour, and his nostrils register it. He holds the macchiato lid closer to his nose to invite the coffee smell inside while blocking out the others.
"Okay...I'm on my way. It'll take me two minutes to get there."
He hangs up with Naomi, pocketing his phone in the tailored Stella McCartney jacket Jimin gifted him on their third anniversary. A tired hand feathers through mousy hair he knows has seen better days. He vaguely studies the storefronts he passes by.
Material goods of all kinds float past his sight. Fashionable articles, specialty antiques, gourmet foods, technologies unheard of five years ago. So many things in a world to buy, yet no material object could satisfy the deeper desires of mankind. Money couldn't buy love. Money couldn't buy happiness. Jungkook knew these fundamental pillars like the back of his hand.
He was well-rounded in his mentality, steady in his philosophy about how to make a business work. He had to balance a practical business model with the lofty ideals that surrounded the human gambit of matchmaking. That was why Pluto Rooms had accumulated such significant success in the marketplace.
Humans were social animals, after all.
"How are your legs feeling?" Naomi's fingers tap together, one of her few nervous habits that he notices instantly.
Jungkook enters the room with a wry smile, shaking his head. After he plops in a cushioned seat of the empty banquet room, he sips his macchiato delicately and regards his and Jimin's prized assistant.
"My legs are the least of our problems." Jungkook crosses his ankles, leaning back. His eyes trace the marble grain of the high, polished ceiling of the rented room. The spider-webbing design explodes outward like a rocky firework, simmering into subtle frills and hooks.
Who decides on designing the ceiling? He wonders despite the situation. Who actually raises their hand at the construction meeting and says, 'I call ceiling duty! Pick me, PLEASE! Above your heads will be my creative opus, my untouchable child of marble!'
"I'm just doing Jimin's job for him. Checking up on you." Naomi fidgets in the navy chair across from him. She pulls a company tablet from her faux suede bag and sets in on the table between them. "I'm sure you've spoken to him since the whole...situation?"
Jungkook lowers his head from the ceiling and nods. "Yeah, yeah. I did. I didn't want to tell him, given his condition, but..."
"You can't keep things from him for long." Naomi tilts her head sideways. "He texted me three separate times asking me to check in on you and report back to him. Within the same hour."
Jungkook chuckles. "Sounds about right."
Naomi taps a few times on her tablet. She holds it up to him, revealing a long page of text that he quickly skims over. According to the message, the IT department at Sperosity is struggling to find the source of corruption in the game, claiming the threat has spread 'far and wide without a localization of function,' comparing its manifestation to 'a persistent, indiscriminate virus, attacking everything in its vicinity.'
"Well fuck." Jungkook's hands flock to his temples, rubbing away the headache that's sure to come soon. "What do we do now?"
Naomi bows her head, tapping some more on the device. "We wait. There's nothing you or Jimin can do at the moment, other than monitor social media and listen for updates. In the morning, expect international headlines mentioning you both...and be prepared to turn down a lot of reporter calls. They're going to want answers, and for legal reasons, you shouldn't admit anything to the press."
Jungkook groans, tracing the edge of his macchiato cup. Inside, he feels a mixture of resignation and rage. Why did this have to happen to them, a company in its heyday? In its long-awaited prime?
"I'll do my best to repel the calls. I'm just pissed this had to happen now of all times. Whoever did this..."
"Is an asshole." Naomi deadpans. "You've both been working long hours and have sacrificed tons for this game. I agree, this was totally unwarranted."
Nodding despondently, Jungkook brings the drink cup to his mouth. "There's no way I'm going to sleep tonight. Not until they find whoever corrupted the system."
A gentle sigh escapes Naomi's beige-tinted lips. "I'm sure they will. It's our entire tech suite against a single source hacker. They can't be that difficult to track down, once the team finds a lead."
"This sounds like a poorly designed mystery game." Jungkook complains, leaning his head back against the chair. "Find the hay in a needlestack of millions of targeted users. While blindfolded. With both hands tied behind your back. God...I could use a drink right now, and I've been dry since the accident."
"You made a nice choice. Coffee's a lot cheaper, without the drowsy effects." Naomi motions to the macchiato. "I'm surprised you didn't order Jimin something by habit."
"Almost did, actually." Jungkook thinks back to the café, to staring at the menu images of whipped cream and chocolate sauce poured over sugared coffee. He shifts in his seat, antsy from thoughts of Jimin. "It feels mega weird without him here with us. I pretty much botched the company networking today. Jimin's so much better at handling the formalities of being a CEO."
Naomi shakes her head. "Don't say that. You don't give yourself enough credit. Everyone who meets you takes a liking pretty quickly."
"They do not." Jungkook finishes the macchiato, frowning.
"Yes they do." Naomi offers to take the empty cup from his hand. "I think you're stressing about the hack. This isn't like you. Normally you're all self-confidence and smiles."
"Normally Jimin is here." Jungkook gives the cup over to Naomi and nods once, returning his gaze to the ceiling. "What do you think they're going to do when they find the person?"
"Oh, you know. Litigation, an arrest. The sentence for compromising the security of millions of people has to be lengthy. Fifty years to life, no doubt."
"I hope he gets lifetime in a padded cell." Jungkook scratches his eyebrow, running his finger along the new slit he got a few weeks back. Jimin told him to get it, claiming it made him thirty five point two times sexier. "Putting a company at risk is one thing. Targeting millions is another. I'm pissed legislation for cyber terrorism can't keep up with the technology updates. It's like I'm ten years old again and I've just lost my Nintendo DS charger, only the store is all out of replacement ones. No more charging. Games left to collect dust. No justice for the last level of Super Mario Bros."
Naomi clicks her tongue, rubbing her hands together. "I'm sorry about your stylus. But this isn't like that. There are plenty of replacement styluses to help our problem...the technology team just has to find them. They're elusive. Hiding from us at the moment."
"Right." Jungkook closes his eyes and sighs deeply. "Like I said before, a horrible mystery game. Hey players! Figure out who murdered Mrs. Yoon, only you're blind and deaf and you don't know who Mrs. Yoon is! Who does that? How can you be so positive when we're literally about to lose everything!" Jungkook clenches his jaw, reopening his eyes to the ceiling's veiny design. "Sorry, Naomi. I don't mean to explode at you. It's just-"
"I know."
"Good. Yeah, good." Jungkook studies the twisted marble, finding creepy face-like formations in the splotchy designs. Directly above his chair there appears to be a snarling face in the polished rock with pointed teeth and nefarious, slanted eyes. He returns his gaze back to Naomi, slightly disturbed. "Is there anything else I can do now? Any work? Anything I can help you with?"
"You can relax." Naomi pushes her bangs back, refocusing on her tablet. Her caramel collared shirt wrinkles as she leans over the device. "I'm going to check a few things and I'll get back to you. The tech team wants to facetime with me soon, apparently."
Jungkook purses his lips but says nothing.
His eyes flock to the pearly monster above his head. Whoever planned such an intricate design must have a subconscious inclination to resurface their past monsters in their artworks. Projecting their darker side unintentionally...marking their environment with the gems of their artistic vision, the channeled trauma of their past. Ornately introspective, a creative palette that superficially appears clean-cut and polished to the wandering eye, but to the deep observer appears strained and desperate.
Jungkook shivers.
Whoever planned this ceiling shares something in common with the Pluto Rooms hacker. Both are disturbed, both hide behind a foggy frame. Both lurk in plain sight. Both bother him.
His phone rings.
"Oh. Oh shit." The rampant Britney Spears song "Circus" scares the daylights out of him. He thought he set his phone to vibrate...not to mention he swore he changed his ringtone back after Jimin had tampered with the device. With jittery hands, he pulls the phone out of his pocket and gives Naomi an apologetic wince. "Hang on."
He answers without checking the caller ID.
"Hello?" Jungkook realizes Naomi told him specifically not to answer any personal phone calls three seconds too late. She raises a questioning eyebrow at him, leaning forward in her chair.
Hello, JEON JUNGKOOK.
The voice is automated, clouded. It sounds like a tin can squeezed into vowels, a perfect disguise for someone wanting to hide their identity. Jungkook rolls his eyes, expecting to hear a determined telemarketer try to sell him car insurance, new panties, or something awfully worse.
I'm pleased that you answered. You've made my day.
Jungkook feels his stomach churn. He shoulders the phone, making a face at Naomi. Since when were telemarketers this touchy, this buddy-buddy with their possible clients? It was borderline unprofessional. Just as he is about to hang up, the voice continues.
I've been waiting for this moment for WEEKS now. To tell you how I feel about PLUTO ROOMS. The voice pauses. I've been dying to speak to you about your company, your matchmaking empire. Firstly, I just want to say congratulations. You've designed a marvelous game. But not so marvelous that it's infallible.
Jungkook rushes to put the phone on speaker. He holds his finger to his lips and widens his eyes at Naomi. This is no wild pitch from a raving telemarketer. This is something much, much worse.
Breaking into Pluto Rooms was a challenge, but extremely rewarding. Inside the server I can see all the effort you put into designing your matchmaking technology. The maps are intricate, polished. The game's basis for growth is like no other in the current market. You've created something impeccable, something so many people love, and that's precisely why I had to target it.
The robotic voice holds a poisonous undercurrent. Jungkook stiffens, bracing himself on the armchair for support. He opens his mouth to yell something nasty to the pretentious person on the other line, but Naomi shakes her head fast. She holds out the company tablet towards the phone, recording the conversation as it unfolds.
Pluto Rooms is a gold mine! The users, the information. The neat structure. I can feel your wrath from the other end, and I can only imagine how angry you must be with me. But every heroic gesture has its counteracting villain. You want Pluto Rooms back? You won't get it by tracing me down. I've made sure of that. No one can find me. Especially not you, a clueless map-designer.
For Jungkook, this is the last straw. "We'll trace you down, motherfucker. I don't care how long it takes, but you'll get what you deserve." The phone trembles in his grasp, light spittle coating the glowing screen. "You're not going to win this."
The voice halts for what seems like years. Jungkook risks looking at Naomi and expects disappointment, but is relieved to see her brows pressed in consternation. She, too, is pissed that this individual is acting so blasé about corrupting an entire company's worth of information.
I'm not going to win? Oh...but I've already won. The figures, the names, the personal info is already mine. I already have my hands on the treasure trove, the invaluable bounty! Unless...you want to try and barter with me? Try to BUY the diamond back?
Naomi's face pales. She gives Jungkook a warning gaze, mouth parted in disbelief. Even she doesn't know what to say. Jungkook's stomach clenches with rage-soaked irony as he changes his sweaty grip on the phone. If Jimin were here, he'd know exactly how to handle this situation.
"How much do you want?" Jungkook blurts. Naomi's face remains unchanged, a symbol of injured perplexity.
The net worth of Sperosity. The voice doesn't hesitate.
Jungkook's mouth drops. Sperosity's net worth is 28 billion won. No chance he would be able to get his hands on that amount of money, much less hand it over to a criminal.
"No way. You're insane." Jungkook stammers over the line, feeling worse by the second. "You're never getting it."
This is what I expected of you, JEON JUNGKOOK. Perilation doesn't lie. You're truly a CASKET CARRIER. Willing to murder your career and take its corpse to the grave with you. Willing to sacrifice EVERYTHING you've worked for because of your pride. The voice chuckles, a noise similar to a grainy engine revving over and over. I wonder if PARK JIMIN feels the same?
"Don't you dare bother him, you fuckhead." Jungkook growls. "You bet we're going to trace you, and when we do you'll wish you'd never messed with Sperosity. Pluto Rooms will be up and running in no time, and you'll be behind bars where you belong."
Jungkook hangs up the phone without listening for a response. He stands up suddenly from the chair, knocking the cushion facedown on the floor. Naomi rises just as fast, clutching her tablet to her chest and staring at him nervously. His legs shake with fatigue and adrenaline as he makes his way to the exit.
"What are you doing?" Naomi asks, although Jungkook is positive she knows the answer.
"Heading to the airport. Cancel the remaining plans for the Tokyo trip." Jungkook glares at the ceiling, mentally strangling the marble monster figure in his mind. "We're heading to San Francisco."
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