Shim Yoona leaned forward, her voice a low, precisely modulated instrument of dismissal. “Mr. Park, your projections for Project Chimera are… optimistic. Perhaps even whimsical.”
Around the obsidian-polished table in the apex boardroom of NEXUS Tower, twenty pairs of eyes—senior executives, department heads, and legal counsel—tracked her every move. Mr. Park, CEO of rival firm ‘Veridian Dynamics,’ visibly wilted under her gaze. The air itself seemed to thin, sucked dry of oxygen by her sheer, focused intensity.
Yoona’s fingers, adorned only with a slender, platinum band, swept over the glass panel embedded in the tabletop, pulling up charts that shredded Veridian’s financial models. “Your Q3 revenue estimates are inflated by 17.4%. Your user acquisition strategy relies on a defunct social media platform. And your proposed integration with the ‘Chronos Engine’ is technically unsound. It would create a critical security vulnerability across the entire NEXUS ecosystem.”
Each word was a scalpel, dissecting his proposal with surgical precision. Mr. Park stammered, “But… the market sentiment… the innovative approach…”
Yoona’s lips barely twitched. “Market sentiment without data is mere speculation. Innovation without foundational security is reckless. NEXUS does not gamble. We predict. We secure.” She paused, allowing the silence to stretch, heavy with his defeat. “The proposal is rejected. Unanimously.”
As the executives began to murmur, Yoona felt a familiar flicker at the edge of her vision. A private numeric readout, invisible to everyone else, materialised above her left wrist. It was always there, a constant, unwanted companion. Her gaze flickered to it, a private ritual.
[Vitality Points: 18%]
The number, a stark crimson against the cool cerulean glow, was a cruel joke. Eighty-two percent of her life, by this absurd metric, was gone. Eighteen percent remained. She had three months, six days, and fourteen hours until her ‘Termination Date.’ An arbitrary countdown that had appeared six months ago, after her grandmother, Hye-jin, had delivered some utterly unhelpful deathbed advice about ‘living life to the fullest’ and ‘experiencing humanity.’ Yoona had promptly dismissed it as senile ramblings.
The interface suddenly pulsed, a harsh red alert overriding the usual text. A sharp, electronic chime, audible only to her, cut through the boardroom’s receding tension.
[WARNING: ACCELERATED DEPLETION]
Yoona’s spine stiffened. Her brows twitched down in sharp disbelief. The number began to descend, not slowly as before, but in quick, jerking spasms. 17.9%, 17.8%, 17.7%.
Then, the Termination Date shifted.
[Termination Date: 2 Months, 5 Days, 2 Hours]
One month. Gone. Just like that. A cold, hard knot formed in her stomach. This was… unexpected. Unacceptable. Her perfect control, her meticulous planning, had accounted for a steady decline. Not this. Not a sudden, precipitous drop.
She rose, cutting off any further discussion. “The meeting is adjourned. My assistant will circulate revised Q4 projections for NEXUS by end of day. I expect them reviewed by morning.”
Without another word, she swept from the room, leaving behind a wake of bewildered executives and a thoroughly humiliated Mr. Park. The sleek, chrome-and-glass corridors of NEXUS Tower blurred around her as she moved, her focus narrowed to the chilling new reality.
Two months. That was barely enough time. Barely enough time to implement ‘Project Mochi.’
***
The penthouse apartment, a minimalist temple of polished concrete and panoramic glass, offered no warmth, only stark, clean lines. Yoona stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the glittering city grid of Seoul, a glass of water untouched in her hand. Her private numbers still ticked down the ominous countdown.
Mochi, her pampered toy poodle, a fluffy cloud of cream-colored fur, looked up from his designer bed, head cocked. He let out a soft ‘woof,’ nudging a jeweled squeaky toy with his nose.
Yoona watched him. Mochi was her one irrational indulgence, her only vulnerability. And now, he was her most pressing, most terrifying concern. She would be gone. But Mochi? He needed security, a stable, luxurious life free from the chaos of a vanishing owner, engineered with the same precision she applied to NEXUS.
“Initiate Project Mochi, Phase One: Caretaker Acquisition,” she commanded, her voice echoing slightly in the vast space. The apartment’s central AI, ‘Ares,’ responded with a chime. “Scanning global database for candidates matching specified parameters: veterinary expertise, live-in availability, impeccable references, discretion, and a proven affinity for toy poodles requiring bespoke dietary and grooming routines.”
The search had been exhaustive. Billions of Won had been budgeted. Hundreds of candidates vetted. Now, only one remained.
“Dial Dr. Seo Ji-han, final candidate,” Yoona instructed. A call window shimmered into existence before her.
After a moment, a man appeared on the feed. Dr. Seo Ji-han. He possessed an infuriatingly cheerful face, framed by dark, slightly unruly hair. His white lab coat, worn over a pastel-blue shirt, looked lived-in, not pristine. He wasn’t in a sterile clinic, but a small, brightly painted room with a large, contented-looking Siamese cat perched on a shelf behind him. ‘The Paw & Cuddle Clinic,’ a small, hand-painted sign on the wall declared.
“Ah, Ms. Shim Yoona, I presume?” Ji-han’s voice was warm, a stark contrast to the glacial silence of her apartment. “Pleasure to finally speak! Apologies for the casual setting, I’m just wrapping up a late-night consultation here at The Paw & Cuddle.” He gestured vaguely at the cat, which blinked slowly at the camera.
Yoona cut straight to the chase. “Dr. Seo, your qualifications are impeccable. Your references laud your compassion and skill. Your previous clients praise your dedication to their pets’ well-being. We are prepared to offer an annual compensation package of ₩800,000,000, plus full benefits, housing, and a vehicle allowance, for a full-time, live-in position as Mochi’s personal veterinarian and caretaker.”
Ji-han’s bright smile didn’t falter, but his eyebrows did rise slightly. “₩800,000,000? That’s… quite generous, Ms. Shim. Over four times what I currently make.” He scratched his chin, a thoroughly unprofessional gesture.
“Indeed. It reflects the unique demands of the role and the unparalleled quality of care Mochi requires.” Yoona waited for the inevitable, eager acceptance. No one rejected this kind of offer.
Ji-han, however, simply nodded slowly. “I appreciate the offer, truly. It’s certainly enticing.” He paused, then tilted his head. “But I can’t accept it. Not yet, anyway.”
Yoona blinked. The smooth, controlled facade of the CEO faltered for a fraction of a second. “I beg your pardon, Dr. Seo?”
“Well,” he continued, as if explaining something obvious to a particularly slow child, “I haven’t met Mochi. I mean, I’ve seen his adorable photos, of course. But every animal has a unique personality, Ms. Shim. I need to make sure we… vibe. That we get along. My practice is built on personal connection, you see. It wouldn’t be fair to Mochi, or to you, if I committed to such an important role without first ensuring we’re a good fit.” He offered a disarming, earnest smile.
Yoona stared at the screen, momentarily speechless. His words were illogical, unprofessional, and completely baffling. This was a business transaction, a negotiation. Emotions, ‘vibes,’ had no place here.
[Achievement Unlocked: Experienced Baffling Human Behavior]
Another glitch. She dismissed it as quickly as it appeared. But the sting of rejection, however minor, was real. No one had ever rejected a NEXUS offer, let alone one of this magnitude. And for such a ridiculous reason.
“So, you require an… in-person audition, Dr. Seo?” Her voice was tight, laced with disbelief.
“Think of it as a meet-and-greet! A playdate, if you will,” Ji-han clarified cheerfully. “Just a couple of hours. No strings attached. If Mochi and I don’t hit it off, no hard feelings. You find someone else.”
He truly expected her, Shim Yoona, to accommodate this… eccentricity. The CEO who ran a global empire on pure, unadulterated logic. Her gaze hardened. This was an affront. An inconvenience. A preposterous demand she was, infuriatingly, forced to entertain.
She stared at his smiling face, her lips forming a single word. “Unacceptable.”
But the hologram of her Vitality Points flashed, 17.6%, then 17.5%, a silent reminder of her rapidly shrinking timeframe. She had no other options. She couldn’t risk anything that might jeopardize Mochi’s future. Not now. Not with the clock ticking so aggressively.
“Fine,” she bit out, the word tasting like ash. “My assistant will arrange a meeting for tomorrow afternoon. Be punctual, Dr. Seo.”
Ji-han’s smile widened. “Excellent! Mochi and I are going to have a wonderful time, I just know it!”
Yoona cut the call, the transmission vanishing, leaving her alone in the sterile silence. She glared at the empty space where his cheerful face had been, then at the steadily depleting percentage above her wrist.
[Vitality Points: 17.4%]
“Unacceptable,” she muttered again, the word a promise of retribution to a universe that seemed intent on defying her control.
She would find a way to make him comply. She always did.
But first, she had to endure a playdate with a poodle and a baffling human.