The Algorithm of Spring

38

They waited until mid-morning to enter the Seoul Startup Hub, when the real entrepreneurs would help them blend into the crowd. The building rose like a glass monument to innovation, its lobby a clash of cultures—venture capitalists in bespoke suits weaving past founders in logoed hoodies.

Min-seo's forged ID got them through the security turnstiles.

"Min-seo was clear about the plan," Jun-ho said, his voice low. "She said if we want to know how HarmoniQ got Yeon-joo's data, we need to check the public records for Samsung's official data-sharing partners."

Maya touched the lanyard around her neck, hyper-aware of the security cameras tracking them through the atrium. "How long before someone realises we're not just another startup doing market research?"

Jun-ho nodded toward the lift. "Fourth floor. Corporate Partnership Registry. We get in, find the connection, and get out."

The lift opened onto a floor of glass-walled meeting rooms and shared workspaces. Through the windows, Seoul's tech district stretched below them—a cityscape of rushed modernism.

Across the main room, a bright red slide curved down to the lobby—part of the building's "creative workspace" aesthetic.

"Over here." Jun-ho led them to a row of terminals along the far wall.

Maya logged in using the credentials Min-seo had provided. After last night, her hands felt unsteady on the keyboard.

"How can an app know about a promotion before it's even public?" Jun-ho kept his voice low. "Min-seo's convinced they have access to Samsung's internal servers."

The database loaded—its interface as bland and bureaucratic as possible. Maya typed in Samsung's corporate details and began scrolling through a long list of approved data partners. She searched for HarmoniQ. Nothing.

"It's not here," she said. "They're not an official partner."

"Keep looking," Jun-ho urged. "They're hiding behind something."

Maya scanned the list again, this time looking for shell companies. Then she froze. The name itself, "Nexus Design Solutions," meant nothing, but the description next to it made her pulse quicken.

"Wait. Look at this," she said, pointing to the entry.

"It's listed as an 'Employee Wellness and Productivity Consultant.' But look at the data permissions they've been granted."

"Even the name—Nexus. It's so generic it's suspicious."

"Access to internal HR performance reviews."

"Location tracking within the campus."

"Social media sentiment analysis of employees."

"Jun-ho... this is how they knew about Yeon-joo's promotion. This is how they track everything."

Jun-ho's expression darkened. "So Samsung is just handing over its employees' data?"

"And it's not just Samsung." Maya's fingers flew across the keyboard, checking other corporate filings. "Nexus has the same 'employee wellness' agreements with LG, SK, Hyundai...all the chaebols. It's a quiet backdoor into the whole corporate ecosystem."

"But who is Nexus?" Jun-ho leaned in. "Who's behind it?"

Maya tried to pull up the corporate registry for Nexus Design Solutions, but before she could finish, her screen froze.

White text appeared.

ACCESS TERMINATED.

Her mouth tasted metallic.

Around them, the startup playground continued, but Maya felt the shift in the air. Down in the lobby, two suited men moved with a little too much purpose.

"Time to go," she said, closing the browser. "But not the lift."

Jun-ho understood instantly. They stood, walking unhurriedly toward the slide as if they belonged. Behind them, Maya glimpsed the suited men exiting the lift, heading straight for the terminals they'd just left.

"Think anyone in finance actually uses this thing?" she asked, projecting casual startup energy.

"Only after the quarterly reports," Jun-ho deadpanned.

The slide curved down through the building's core. Maya went first, her borrowed lanyard fluttering. The rush of air and momentary weightlessness intensified the blood pounding in her ears.

They landed in the lobby, falling into step with the crowd. From the corner of her eye, Maya saw one of the suited men appear from the stairwell, gesturing urgently to the security desk.

"Don't look back," Jun-ho said. "Just keep walking."

They passed through the turnstiles. Each beep of their borrowed IDs made Maya's heart skip. Her eyes locked on the revolving doors ahead.

A notification lit up on her device:

Your optimisation journey continues, Maya.

She powered it off without reading the rest.

Outside, Seoul's morning traffic pressed on. They turned a corner before Maya finally spoke.

"We need to tell Min-seo what we found," she said. "The whole thing—no one can justify that kind of access."

"Later," Jun-ho said. "First, we go dark. I know somewhere we can go."