Satoru Gojo. A formidable spy who kept his true identity hidden from his spouse, yet he tries to be a loving husband⎯or at least he did, before he realized that his own marriage was build at the base of lies and scraps of the true jobs from the both of their sides.

The white-haired man slowly walked inside of the house with the stealth of a feline, but his quiet steps still echoed in the eerie, dimly lit house. The corridor at the side of the stair almost at view.

Gun firmly gripped on his hands, pointed in front of him, as his icy blue eyes searched around the corridors for any sudden movement. Any type of sign that revealed your position.

He couldn't really believe it, if he was being honest; both of them on their house, stalking around each other under the faint cast of the moonlight over the windows. Like some sort of sick play of predator and prey.

But in this case, it was predator and predator.