[March 20, 2019. 6:12 AM] [Gosiwon, 1st Floor Mailbox]
Yun-jae stumbled down the stairs, his face still heavy with sleep. He wasn't even sure if last night’s phone call had been real. When he opened the mailbox, a small brown envelope was lying there, silent and cold.
No sender. No address. Only a single line written on it: [For A-73 Only]
His shoulders felt heavy as lead. It’s really starting. He returned to his room and tore open the envelope.
A single USB drive. And a nine-line memo.
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Project Name: Thesis for Promotion Review
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Field: Medical / Science
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Length: 100 pages
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Deadline: 72 hours
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Resource: Raw draft provided
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Client Info: Confidential
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Security: High (File encryption mandatory)
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Start Time: 07:00 AM
Yun-jae stared at the words: Client Info: Confidential. Why did those three words feel so ominous?
[07:00 AM] As soon as he plugged in the USB, a file appeared.
[Draft_Promotion_v3.docx]
Yun-jae took a sharp breath and opened the file. The first page contained a single sentence: "Client information is confidential due to security protocols."
From the next page onward, it was a dense forest of medical jargon, statistics, and AI algorithmic structures.
Yun-jae muttered under his breath. "Medical automation?"
He wasn't a doctor, but even at a glance, the data structure looked sloppy. But he already knew his role. I’m the one who has to breathe life into this corpse.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
[9:18 AM] Yun-jae’s old habits from his prosecutor days kicked in. He began analyzing the draft with surgical precision. Statistical errors, logical leaps, hasty conclusions.
"All this... in 72 hours?" He buried his face in his hands. A wave of self-loathing washed over him.
This is a medical paper. It could actually be used to treat patients. Right then, his phone vibrated.
[Dad]
"Yun-jae... if you have time today, can you stop by the hospital?" His father’s voice was weak. A knot tightened in Yun-jae’s chest.
"Dad, I don't think I can make it today. Something came up at work." "I see... then come whenever you can. I know you're busy."
The line went dead. Yun-jae bowed his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Dad." He turned back to the keyboard.
[2:00 PM] After hours of rewriting, Yun-jae froze at a particular sentence.
'The average AFP level of Patient Group 3 was—' AFP. Alpha-fetoprotein. A marker for liver cancer. The exact term he had seen on his father’s medical charts.
"No way." He scrolled through the entire document at high speed. The age range of the patients, the stages of the disease, the diagnostic goals.
The data was too specific, too real. It looked like actual medical records from a hospital. A chill crept up his spine.
What the hell am I actually writing?
But the memo remained unchanged: Client Info: Confidential.
"Who is this paper really for?" There was no answer.
[7:22 PM] Click. The sound of someone stopping in the hallway. Yun-jae approached the door. At that moment, a small slip of paper slid under the door. He ripped the door open. The hallway was empty.
Two lines were written on the note: 'A-73, progress report check.' 'Mid-point inspection scheduled for 3:00 AM.'
Yun-jae stared into the dark, silent corridor. They’re watching me.
[11:58 PM] The thesis was about 40% complete. His eyes burned, and his head felt like it was filled with lead.
Suddenly, the bottom right of his laptop screen flickered. [Anonymous User: Requesting Remote Access]
"What?" Before he could even hit 'Deny,' the screen transformed.
Connecting Video Call... On the screen stood a man, visible only as a silhouette. "Writer A-73." "Who... who are you?" The man did not show his face.
"I am performing a 'pre-check' before the official inspection. The formal review will be at 3:00 AM as scheduled. Consider this a verification of your progress." "How did you get into my laptop?" "This laptop doesn't belong only to you anymore. I’ve applied a security patch. For your safety, and ours."
'Safety.' The word sounded like a threat.
Yun-jae opened the file with trembling hands. The man’s disembodied voice filled the cramped room. "Good. But A-73." "At this rate, you'll barely make the deadline. Remember, payment is only released upon completion."
Yun-jae couldn't find his voice.
The man spoke one last time. "The client is 'Confidential,' but their standards are high. Do not disappoint them." The call disconnected.
Yun-jae sat there for a long time, unable to touch the keyboard. He finally realized it. This isn't just a ghostwriting gig. It was a web of surveillance and control, driven by a hidden will. And he was being pulled straight into the center of it.
[Next Chapter Preview]
3:00 AM. The Mid-point Inspection. A 'suspicious piece of data' hidden in the draft. The moment A-73 realizes this isn't just a simple thesis.
Those numbers... They aren't for a promotion. They are pieces of a massive puzzle called 3,870.
Episode 2 marks the moment when Yoon-Jae realizes that the work he has accepted reaches far beyond a simple deadline.
Every page he edits, every number he encounters, pulls him deeper into a truth he was never meant to see.
a bookmark or a small comment would mean a great deal.
Your presence here keeps this story alive—and guides me as I write the next step into the dark.
Stay safe until then.