The cinema lobby buzzed with restless excitement.
People moved in clusters toward their respective halls, holding tickets and drinks, while the bright glow of movie posters flickered across the polished floor. The smell of buttered popcorn drifted through the air like a silent invitation.
Behind the popcorn counter stood Adrian.
A red cinema cap rested low over his forehead, and a plain uniform covered his usual attire. To any passerby, he looked like just another tired theater employee working the late shift.
The popcorn machine crackled beside him as fresh kernels burst into fluffy golden pieces.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Adrian scooped the popcorn slowly into a striped bucket, pretending to focus on his work while occasionally glancing toward the entrance.
A group of three young men walked into the lobby, laughing loudly as they approached the counter.
One of them leaned casually against it.
"Hey, popcorn guy," the man said with a grin. "Give us three large buckets."
Adrian looked up calmly, his expression neutral.
"Extra butter?"
The second guy smirked."Obviously. It's not popcorn without butter."
Adrian nodded slightly and turned toward the machine. The scoop dipped into the warm pile of popcorn, lifting a mountain of golden kernels before dropping them into the bucket.
The first man watched impatiently.
"You new here?" he asked.
Adrian didn't look up.
"Just covering tonight's shift."
The man shrugged.
"Lucky you. Free movies, right?"
Adrian allowed a faint smile.
"Something like that."
He filled the second bucket, then the third, carefully pouring butter over each layer.
The warm scent filled the air.
The third guy suddenly leaned closer over the counter.
"Hey, make mine extra buttery."
Adrian slid the bucket toward him.
"Already done."
The man chuckled and grabbed it.
"How much?"
"Fifteen."
The first guy pulled out some cash and tossed it onto the counter.
Adrian took the money slowly, his eyes briefly meeting the man's.
For just a moment, something cold flickered behind Adrian's calm expression.
Then it was gone.
The men grabbed their popcorn and started walking toward their theater hall, still laughing and joking.
Adrian watched the three men disappear into the dim hallway that led toward the screening rooms. Their laughter slowly faded, swallowed by the thick theater doors.
Behind him, the popcorn machine continued its quiet rhythm.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
The warm scent of butter lingered in the air.
Adrian adjusted the brim of his red cinema cap and murmured softly, almost like a polite farewell.
"Enjoy the movie."
To anyone nearby, it sounded like nothing more than a routine line from a theater employee.
Then his earbud vibrated.
A faint beep followed, and a girl's voice whispered through the small device.
"Boss… we located them."
For a brief moment, Adrian stood still.
The relaxed posture of the popcorn seller vanished. The casual expression on his face faded, replaced by a sharp, calculating calm. The transformation was subtle, but absolute—like a switch had been flipped.
Adrian lowered his voice.
"Track them accurately," he said quietly.
There was no hesitation in his tone, no trace of surprise.
"I'm coming."
The voice on the other end replied quickly.
"Yes, boss. They entered Theater Seven. Row twelve."
Adrian reached for the popcorn scoop again, casually pouring another batch into a bucket as if nothing had happened.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
*
*
*
The door opened abruptly.
"Sir… we may have a problem."
Chairman Shin Yeong looked up from his desk, his expression briefly tightening before settling back into calm indifference.
His secretary stepped in quickly, holding a folder close to his chest. There was urgency in his breathing, but he tried to maintain composure.
"We might need to send reinforcements," he added.
For a moment, the room fell silent.
The chairman leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers interlocked.
"Explain," he said, his tone steady.
The secretary nodded.
"According to the latest intelligence… they've assigned Blaze Beak to execute the plan."
There was a brief pause.
The chairman's eyes narrowed just a fraction.
"You mean that Blaze?"
"Yes, sir."
"The one educated in the United States… recently returned to Korea?" the chairman continued, his voice still controlled. "The one people insist on calling a genius?"
"Yes, sir. The same Blaze Beak."
The chairman exhaled quietly.
"I'm aware of his reputation," he said. "What else?"
The secretary hesitated.
Just for a second.
His grip tightened slightly around the folder.
"About that…" he began, then stopped.
The chairman's gaze sharpened.
"Speak."
"I… don't have much confirmed information," the secretary admitted. "In fact… we barely have anything reliable on him."
A faint crease appeared on the chairman's forehead.
"Then what exactly is causing this urgency?"
The secretary swallowed.
"Caution, sir."
He stepped forward and placed the folder on the desk.
"I thought the same as you at first—that he was just another overhyped strategist. But this morning, I received something… something I initially ignored."
He paused, his voice lowering slightly.
"That was my mistake."
The chairman didn't interrupt.
"If this is real," the secretary continued, "my negligence could cost us the entire operation."
He opened the folder and took out a single sheet.
Not a formal report.
Just a rough, handwritten note.
He handed it over.
The chairman took it and glanced down.
The handwriting was uneven. Rushed.
Desperate.
Boss, BB is dangerous.My partner and I attempted to infiltrate Beak Corporation.It was a trap.Everything was planned.They killed him… brutally.Please… save me.
The message ended there.
No signature.
No timestamp.
Just silence.
The chairman's expression darkened slightly as he read it again.
"I didn't expect this level of violence," he said quietly. "Not for something like this."
The secretary nodded.
"Neither did I, sir. Their operations have always been… controlled. Calculated."
He hesitated again.
"But there's more."
The chairman looked up.
"Go on."
The secretary pulled out another page.
"This was attached… three pages later."
The chairman took it.
This time, the writing was different.
Clean.
Deliberate.
Almost… composed.
Only four words were written across the page.
Win the game, lose the battle.
The room fell completely silent.
The chairman stared at the words for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he leaned back in his chair.
His eyes no longer showed surprise.
Only thought.
"…Interesting."
The secretary spoke carefully.
"Sir… if this is truly Blaze Beak's doing…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
The chairman placed the paper down gently.
A faint, almost amused smile appeared on his lips.
"Then this isn't just an operation anymore."
His gaze shifted toward the window, distant.
"It's a game."
He paused.
"And we're already behind."