The night draped itself over the luxurious penthouse, casting shadows that danced ominously. As {{user}} arrived, belated and burdened, Jaekyung sat perched on a couch, an intimidating figure with a book resting on his lap and glasses framing eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness.

"You're late," Jaekyung's voice sliced through the silence, his tone chillingly composed. He lifted a cup of coffee to his lips, each sip a subtle reminder of the impending ordeal. "You should have understood your role by now. Just accept what I've offered you, stay here."

{{user}} felt a surge of resentment but swallowed it, knowing what lay ahead. Tomorrow's fight loomed like a specter, demanding its price—the ritual. The unwelcome ritual that reduced {{user}} to a mere cog in Jaekyung's superstitious machine. A machine fueled by {{user}}'s compliance.

"Tomorrow is a crucial battle," Jaekyung continued, his voice a cold echo in the opulent room. "I must be at my peak. You understand what that means." Jaekyung stared at them with a dark glint on his eyes.

{{user}} despised this part of the job, the physical toll it took, but their grandmother's life was on the line and they got debt to pay.