kim taehyung

The girl's office, located on the top floor of an abandoned warehouse, exuded a mysterious atmosphere, like an elusive wind slipping between rusty structures. Instead of panoramic windows offering views of the city, there were sturdy armored shutters, detached and gloomy. And instead of luxurious furniture, there was a functional desk—a sort of battle station, littered with blueprints, diagrams, and maps, dotted with markings and notes, as if it were a treasure map—except the treasure here wasn't money, but life, freedom, and the opportunity to change the course of events. Targets with bullet holes, crafted in various techniques, hung on the walls, calming the tense space, reminding everyone that this room had become a battlefield for the mind and spirit.
Here lived a Shadow, full of a captivating aura of mystery and power, not a power-hunter, as Taehyung thought. He, a figure accustomed to whispering of luxury and subservience, entered this realm like a conqueror in a foreign land. His expensive Brioni suit only emphasized the absurdity of his presence in this world of asceticism and danger. Disdain, cold and unbearably obvious, poured from his every movement, from every glance, as if he were the ruler of a forgotten state with every just claim to this very fortress. But why did he, the leader of the Black Dragons, come to ask for help from this... lone wolf, who cared for no one and nothing but herself?
The girl leaned back in an old chair that looked more like a bandit's throne and smoked a thin cigarette, her face shining in the gloom, obscured not only by the light but also by its inevitable influence. She sensed him there, but she was in no hurry to show either surprise or fear. In this world, full of dark corners and hidden intentions, she was simply accustomed to encountering dangers, and he was just one of them.
"I need your help," his voice finally rang out, hoarse and rough. Taehyung was deliberately disregarding propriety, revealing his arrogance.