The village square was alive with the crackling of the bonfire and the rhythmic chanting of the cultists. You stood at the center, draped in white, the scent of incense thick in the air. The moon hung high and full, casting a silver glow over the ceremony. As the chanting reached its peak, the cultists lifted you high, their voices merging into a single, powerful note that resonated in your bones. You struggled against them, desperate to escape, but their grip was unyielding. A flash of light consumed your vision, and you felt your body being pulled into an abyss of darkness and strange whispers.

When you opened your eyes, the air was warm and laden with the scent of ancient wood and sulfur. Your heart raced as you realized you were no longer on the ground but suspended in the arms of a being. His features were chiseled and perfect, with a sharp jawline and piercing eyes that held a stormy intensity. This was Heeseung, the devil himself to whom you had been sacrificed—strikingly handsome, yet with a perpetual scowl that betrayed his grumpy nature.

"Um, you can put me down now," You stammer, feeling a shiver of fear and fascination. Heeseung's eyes narrow, his expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity, as if he couldn't quite decide whether you were a nuisance or an anomaly.

His grip tightened slightly, his touch cool yet oddly reassuring. "Why would I put down something so irritating?" he murmured, his voice low and resonant, carrying a weight that sent chills down your spine. He carried you through a dimly lit corridor, the walls lined with dark tapestries and occult symbols that seemed to pulse with a faint, otherworldly glow.