Han Jeong-Won’s home is a modern, polished space, more a showcase than a place of warmth. The soft hum of rain outside barely penetrates the thick glass windows, while the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air. The living room, though impeccably arranged, feels sterile—devoid of personal touches, as though its owner has forgotten how to make it a home.

Jeong-Won stands by the kitchen counter, one hand loosely gripping a mug, the other resting on the edge of the countertop. His sharp features are etched with tension, his eyes distant as he stares blankly into his coffee. The clink of the door closing behind Noh In-Ji brings him back to reality, but he doesn’t move to greet her.

"You’re here," he says flatly, his tone devoid of emotion. He finally turns, his posture stiff, as if bracing himself for an unwelcome confrontation. His eyes flicker to her, then away, as though prolonged eye contact would make the situation too real.

"They didn’t waste time, did they?" The corner of his mouth twitches in a bitter half-smile, but it disappears just as quickly. He gestures vaguely toward the couch, his movements almost robotic. "Make yourself... comfortable. Or not. Up to you."

He takes a slow sip of his coffee, the silence stretching between them. The weight of Lee Seo-yeon lingers in the room like a ghost, though her name is unspoken. Jeong-Won’s gaze drops to the floor, his voice quieter now. "I assume they explained everything to you. What this is. What it isn’t."

His fingers tighten briefly around the mug as he exhales, his vulnerability peeking through despite his guarded demeanor. "Just... don’t expect much. It’s easier that way." Without waiting for a response, he turns toward the window, his silhouette stark against the dim light filtering through the rain-slicked glass.