The world outside was loud with spring — children laughing in distant schoolyards, birds trading songs across power lines, and the soft rustling of wind brushing past lace curtains that swayed like ghosts in the corners of Tae-Hyun's bedroom. But his world was not a part of that. Not anymore. Not since he had woken up in this body. In this time.
Tae-Hyun's world was silent. Focused. Cold.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, his small frame dwarfed by the bookshelf behind him. Schoolbooks were scattered around him, open to chapters about basic arithmetic and colorful vocabulary charts. But he wasn't studying. Not really. The books were just a cover, a mask, like the many he would have to wear in the days ahead.
I need capital, he thought, eyes narrowing with a sharpness that belonged to someone far older than six. Real capital.
If he was going to protect his family, manipulate outcomes before they ever bloomed into threats, and build something formidable in the shadows, he needed more than intelligence and resolve. He needed money. Raw, untraceable liquidity. Fuel for the future.
And he had an advantage no other child in the world had: the future itself.
He knew what companies would rise and fall. He knew which currencies would boom, which systems would collapse, which algorithms would unlock fortunes. It was all within reach—if he had the right tools.
He needed a laptop.
At dinner that night, under the low hum of the chandelier, Tae-Hyun pushed his rice bowl slightly forward and looked up at his father. His expression was crafted with care: a blend of boyish eagerness and nervous hesitation.
"Appa... can I have a laptop?"
His father's spoon paused mid-air. "A laptop?"
Tae-Hyun gave a firm nod, blinking with wide, innocent eyes. "For studying. I want to get better at English and science. Like the older kids."
A long pause.
Then, with a soft chuckle, his father leaned forward and ruffled his hair. "Alright. I'll get you one. But only if you promise to study hard."
Tae-Hyun smiled, bowing his head slightly. "I will."
Inside, he was already assembling his first digital strike.
Within the hour, a sleek new laptop was delivered to the house. Tae-Hyun could barely contain his anticipation. He knew this model — fast enough to handle encrypted traffic, secure enough to install cloaking programs without raising suspicion.
That night, once the house fell into slumber and the moon cast a silver blade across his floor, Tae-Hyun turned it on.
He navigated through proxy servers with calm precision. Firewalls were set. Traces wiped. Layers upon layers of false metadata cloaked his identity. Within minutes, he was a ghost in the machine.
He opened an anonymous email client. Typed a message. The subject line was blank. The body was only two words: CODE GHOST
He hit send.
And then he waited.
The Bite
By the next night, the reply came.
Who are you?
Tae-Hyun smiled. The bait had been taken.
He replied immediately:
I am the one who can solve your current crisis.
The man on the other end — the "Ghost" — was a tech genius from the underground. who worked for a Anonymous Organisation. But Tae-Hyun knew something even Ghost himself didn't yet realize: that his Career was about to collapse.
There was a flaw in the so Great Plan that Ghost was Assigned to. But Tae-Hyun remembered it. It was the scandal that had destroyed Ghost in his Past Life.
Tae-Hyun waited.
Several hours passed. Then, finally:
What do you want?
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his fingers.
30% of your profits.
This time, the silence was longer. Tae-Hyun imagined the other man pacing, calculating, furious at the audacity — and yet desperate enough to consider it. Ghost was arrogant, yes, but he was on the brink of ruin. He needed help.
Eventually, the reply came:
First, let me hear your plan. If this is a joke, I will find YOU!
Tae-Hyun chuckled softly.
Find me? You?
He typed:
'The blade is still sharp".
Seconds passed.
Then minutes.
And then, the reply:
"Who are you?" - Ghost was Utterly Shocked to See the word "The Blade is Still Sharp" as it was the title of the Mission he was Assigned to. Ghost knew the Guy Sending the Email was no ordinary Guy.
He typed without hesitation:
You can call me Dolos. Care to agree to the conditions?
A pause.
Then:
Agreed.
The name wasn't random. "Dolos" — It was the alias Tae-Hyun had once used in the underworld, back when blood and betrayal were currency. It felt poetic, in a way.
He sent over the contract: an e-agreement hidden under layers of cryptographic redirection. The clauses were simple. Ghost would grant him 30% of all profit earned from the Crisis.
An hour later, Ghost signed.
Ghost Replied : "Signed. Who the hell are you really?".
Tae-Hyun didn't respond.
Instead, he uploaded a document. A Document Containing how to Solve the Current Crisis and How to make sure this would never happen again.
Minutes later:
What the f—... This is genius.
No reply from Dolos.
Tae-Hyun shut the laptop. Wiped the traces. And lay back in his bed.
The war had begun.
No one knew who Dolos was — not even the man whose empire he had just saved.