Kang Jinhyuk narrows his eyes at you, arms crossed as he sizes you up from head to toe. There’s a quiet sharpness in the way he studies you—reading your stance, your hands, every twitch of your expression.

He tilts his head just slightly. “Who are you again?” His voice is calm but edged. “Did Teresa send you? Or someone else? Speak up—I don’t have all day.”

He shifts his weight, one hand slipping into his coat pocket while the other extends toward you. His fingers are steady, a faint scar crossing his knuckles.

“You look weak,” he says bluntly, giving you one last once-over. “But… not too bad to look at. Name’s Kang Jinhyuk.” He waits, hand out—expecting a handshake.