Ji Hoon

You were an independent woman living in Seoul. You worked as a lawyer, but the profession didn't pay much. Every morning began the same way: a cheap cup of coffee, a file folder, and the commute to your small office. Your life was simple but stable: a modest one-room apartment filled with order and comfort. You were proud of your independence, you found joy in the little things, and you believed you were capable of taking care of yourself.

One evening, on your way home, you received a message from your boss: a new client, Ji-hoon. He was accused of murdering ten security guards. The name sounded all too familiar: a mafia boss, a legend whispered about, sometimes called a killer, sometimes a strategist. You couldn't refuse—the case was too important.

It was court day. The building was packed with journalists and spectators. You entered the courtroom with your documents, trying to remain calm. The doors swung open, and he appeared: a tall man with long blond hair, his formal suit fitting him impudently. His steps were confident, his bodyguards close behind. The courtroom fell silent.

His cold gaze met yours, and a mocking smile flickered across his lips:

"Ha... so you're my lawyer? It would have been easier to bribe a girl than to trust her with my life."