Chapter 2 The Name Seo Min-ji

The apartment didn't feel real.

It wasn't the crumbling flat she grew up in, where the ceiling leaked and ramen was a luxury. It also wasn't the glass mansion from the lawyer's photo. This place was something in between-cold, white, sterile. Too expensive to be comfortable, too quiet to feel safe.

Ji-ah stood barefoot in the living room, staring at the skyline like it might explain how she got here.

The tablet on the counter buzzed.

"10:00 AM – Orientation: Ms. Hwang So-mi."

The doorbell rang at exactly ten. Ji-ah opened it to a tall woman in a tailored black suit, dark lipstick, and expressionless eyes.

"You're early," Ji-ah said.

"You're late," the woman replied, stepping in.

"Charming."

The woman set a file down on the table. "I'm Ms. Hwang. You'll refer to me as your liaison. From now on, everything goes through me-school enrollment, identity updates, company briefings."

Ji-ah crossed her arms. "I thought I was supposed to be undercover. Why would I need a 'company briefing'?"

"Because you're not just an heiress anymore," Hwang said coolly. "You're the legal owner of K Group's assets. Your father's shares transferred to you the moment the death certificate was filed."

Ji-ah stared. "All of them?"

"All of them. You're now worth 18.3 trillion won. And your enemies know it."

Ji-ah sat down slowly. "So I'm a walking target."

"That's why you'll be living under the name Seo Min-ji. We've created a full identity: forged transcripts, a Busan address, social media history, even allergy records. You'll be enrolling at Daehan International in three days."

Ji-ah picked up the ID card from the folder. The girl in the photo had her face-but it didn't look like her. It looked like someone who smiled at charity galas and got manicures before math tests.

"This is a joke."

"No," Hwang said. "This is a firewall."

Ji-ah threw the ID on the table. "What if I don't want it?"

"You don't have a choice."

Ji-ah stood. "I always have a choice."

Hwang's face didn't change. "Then make it wisely. Your father died protecting this legacy. Don't insult it."

That silenced her.

They drove through the heart of Gangnam in a black car with tinted windows. Ji-ah sat stiffly in the backseat while Hwang typed silently beside her. Every traffic light felt like a countdown.

K Group's headquarters stood like a monument to capitalism-thirty stories of steel, glass, and power. Its rooftop helipad was still scorched from the landing that never came.

Security scanned her three times. She had no pass, but they still opened the doors.

Inside, suits moved like chess pieces across gleaming floors. No one made eye contact. Everyone knew who she was-even if they pretended not to.

She hated it.

Hwang led her into a private elevator, pressing a code Ji-ah didn't see. The ride was silent.

Then the doors opened to the executive floor.

"This is where your father worked," Hwang said. "And where you'll eventually take your seat."

Ji-ah stepped into a hallway lined with portraits. Each one grand and theatrical-former chairmen of K Group, all in suits, all with expressions like they'd never been wrong a day in their lives.

Near the end was a giant painting of her father, Kang Hyun-woo. Towering, poised, eyes that felt like they still watched everything.

And next to it... was a blank gold frame.

"Who's supposed to be there?" she asked.

"You, my dear," Hwang said.

Ji-ah stared at it. The frame was massive, the glass polished, waiting.

"I don't belong here."

"No one ever does-until they make others believe they do."

Ji-ah turned to her. "I'm not pretending to be a chaebol princess."

"Good," Hwang replied. "You're not pretending. You are one."

Back at the apartment, Ji-ah locked the bathroom door and turned on the shower-not to bathe, just for the noise.

She sat on the closed toilet lid and looked at the ID again. She had so much to process and so many questions unanswered.

Seo Min-ji.

The girl who didn't exist until today.

Could this girl hold a company? Handle enemies? Walk hallways filled with people who would eat her alive if she slipped once?

She clenched her jaw.

She'd learned to fight for bus fare, out-hustle boys twice her size, and feed herself when no one else could.

This was a different kind of survival.

It was just a different kind of street.

At midnight, Ji-ah stood on the balcony, watching the lights of Seoul blink below.

Somewhere in the chaos were people already plotting to steal what her father left behind.

They didn't know her yet.

They would.