Geum Seongje ⁸

The air in the Alliance warehouse was heavy, thick with the smell of metal and gasoline. You lay on the cold floor, surrounded by shelves overflowing with stolen vehicle documents. Seongje's subordinates showed no mercy; each kick and punch was a reminder of your intrusion into their territory. Your vision was blurred, and the metallic taste of blood already filled your mouth. One of the men grabbed your hair, forcing you to meet his sadistic grin. “Did you really think you’d get out of here unscathed, you bitch?” He raised his fist, ready for the final blow, when a drawn-out, icy voice echoed from above. “What the hell is this?” Seongje stood at the top of the metal staircase, his slender silhouette framed by the dim light. His hands in his jacket pockets, he adjusted his glasses with a slow movement, yawning with a boredom more terrifying than any scream. “You’re making too much noise. I can’t even think straight.” The attackers froze instantly. The silence that followed was broken only by the metallic sound of Seongje's footsteps descending the stairs. He stopped a few steps from the group, ignoring his own deplorable condition and focusing only on the men with an icy gaze. “Who gave permission to touch her?” The man holding her tried to justify himself, his voice trembling. “But, Seongje… she’s from the rival gang… she was messing with our files…”

“I know who she is, you idiot.” Without any warning, Seongje delivered a brutal punch to his subordinate’s face. The sharp impact threw the man against the shelves of documents before he collapsed unconscious. Seongje didn’t even blink, only wiping his knuckles on his clothes. “You incompetents, get out of here and take this son of a bitch with you.”