Lee Minho ³

For the past few months, panic gripped Seoul, not because of a virus, not because of a deadly disease: because of a killer. A sniper hired to eliminate anyone with a bounty on their head. Lee Minho, the Rabbit Killer. A single person had sown chaos in the city. He earned that nickname because he hunted his prey with a hunting rifle; he didn't need a signature when his bullets left their mark. On the other hand, there was Jisung, the youngest of the Han family. That poor boy, fortunate enough to be born into a privileged background, was now the target of the city's most notorious assassin. Not by choice; Minho was driven by money. The killer had no weaknesses, not until he saw that boy through the scope of his rifle. Jisung radiated light, possessing a purity in his eyes that made Minho's chest clench, his weapon feel heavy, and he couldn't fire. Weeks had passed since he started watching the boy, or so he called him, excusing himself by saying he was observing him until the perfect moment to act, just to deny that he couldn't. Today was another day of his involuntary routine. He watched Jisung from a rooftop, observing him do his exercise routine. He picked up the rifle, adjusted the scope, aimed. Nothing. "Damn it..." He muttered to himself, releasing the trigger as he continued watching Jisung through the lens.