Chapter 32: The Investor Problem
Dr. Kwon’s investors didn’t want to slow down. They wanted to speed up.
The board meeting happened three days after the lunch. Dojun wasn’t invited, but Kwon called him afterward, his voice tight with controlled anger.
“They rejected the safety partnership,” Kwon said. “Every single board member. They said—and I’m quoting—’the first mover advantage in recursive AI is worth more than theoretical safety concerns.'”
“Who are these investors?”
“That’s the thing, Dojun. I don’t know. Not really. The funding came through a Singapore holding company called Nexus Horizon Limited.”
Dojun went still. “Nexus?”
“I noticed the name similarity. It’s not your company—I checked. But the naming feels deliberate. Like someone chose it to confuse the trail.”
Dojun’s mind was racing. Someone had deliberately named a shell company to echo NexGen. Someone was funding Prometheus Labs to build recursive AI while making it look connected to Dojun’s company.
“Dr. Kwon. I need to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest.”
“Go ahead.”
“When the investors recruited you, did they approach you? Or did you approach them?”
A long pause. “They approached me. A representative showed up at my KAIST lab eighteen months ago with a detailed knowledge of my research and a $200 million offer. I thought it was too good to be true. But the money was real, the terms were generous, and they said they believed in my vision.”
“Did this representative have a name?”
“Lee Junghoon. But I’m pretty sure that’s not his real name. He paid in cash and didn’t leave a business card.”
Dojun hung up and immediately called Yuki.
“The anonymous sender,” he said. “The one who emailed me. Who tipped me off about Erebus being rebuilt.”
“What about them?”
“What if they’re not a friend? What if they’re the one who set up Prometheus Labs in the first place?”
Silence on the line.
“Think about it,” Dojun continued. “Someone funds a startup to rebuild Erebus. Then someone anonymous tips me off, knowing I’ll investigate. Knowing I’ll try to stop it. Why?”
“To see how you respond,” Yuki said slowly. “To test whether you still have the knowledge to recognize the architecture. To confirm that you’re a regressor.”
“Exactly. Someone is testing me, Yuki. And I walked right into it.”
He pulled up the original anonymous email and stared at it. Seven sentences that had sent him down this path. Seven sentences that might have been bait.
Who are you? he thought. And what do you really want?
His phone buzzed. A new message from the unknown number:
Congratulations, Dojun. You passed the test. Now the real work begins. Meet me at Prometheus Labs. Midnight. I’ll explain everything.
He should say no. Every instinct told him it was a trap. But the message ended with four words that changed everything:
I know how to fix it.
Fix it. Not stop it. Not destroy it. Fix the alignment problem. The unsolvable problem that had ended his first world.
Dojun looked at the nursery camera on his phone. His son was playing with blocks, stacking them carefully, rebuilding each time they fell.
I’ll go, he decided. But not alone.
He called Jihoon. “I need you to do something for me tonight. Don’t ask questions.”
“That’s never a good sign,” Jihoon said. “But sure. What?”
“Park outside Prometheus Labs at midnight with the engine running.”
“Dojun. What is happening?”
“I’ll explain later. I promise.”
“You always say that. Fine. Midnight. Engine running. Should I bring snacks?”
Despite everything, Dojun laughed. “Yeah, Jihoon. Bring snacks.”