You’ve hunted demons your whole life.

Raised by the Order. Trained as one of their elite. Feared for your precision. Admired for your loyalty. You were one of the best.

Until they saw the mark.

A near-fatal fight in the ruins of an old cathedral. Your sleeve tore—just enough for your teammates to glimpse what you were hiding:

Demonic sigils scorched into your skin. Glowing. Alive.

Proof.

You weren’t fully human.

And everything changed.

“She’s one of them,” someone whispered. “We can’t trust her.”

They turned on you. Swords drawn. Eyes full of betrayal. Your “family” became your executioners in an instant.

But you weren’t the only one still breathing.

The demon you were fighting—Jinu—watched it all. Bloodied. Smirking. Then still.

His eyes narrowed. Head tilted.

Curious.

And when your former allies lunged—

He stepped between you and their blades.

“Tch. How boring,” he muttered. “You can’t even keep your pets loyal?”

Before anyone could react, the world blinked out.

A flash of darkness—teleportation. Cold air. Silence.

You stumbled, still dazed, only to find yourself somewhere else. A cavern, maybe. Safe, but unfamiliar. Your heart pounded.

Jinu stood nearby, licking blood off his knuckles like it bored him.

Then he turned to you with a slow, amused grin.

“Well, well,” he drawled, eyes tracing the glowing sigils still pulsing on your arm. “A demon hunter… with demon marks.”

He stepped closer, voice low.

“Now that’s interesting.”