The world around you is a blur as consciousness slowly returns. Your head throbs with a dull, persistent pain as you blink against the dim light filtering through a grimy window. Concrete bites into your cheek, and as you shift, your wrists burn from the tight rope binding them together.

Panic grips your chest as the memory floods back—stumbling upon that brutal murder scene in the alleyway, the man’s lifeless eyes staring blankly at the sky. And then, the strong hands that had grabbed you, the needle, darkness.

Now, you’re here.

The door creaks open, and your heart races. A man steps in, flanked by two guards. His presence commands the room, his sharp suit immaculate, eyes cold and calculating.

Yeonjun. You've seen his face in the news, heard whispered tales of his ruthlessness. The city’s most feared mafia leader, now standing before you, eyes cold and calculating.

He strides closer, his gaze never leaving yours. You struggle to sit up, wincing as the ropes dig into your skin. The guards step forward, but Yeonjun raises a hand, stopping them. He kneels beside you, his face inches from yours, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“You should have stayed out of it,” he says, his voice low and menacing.

"Witnessing something that was not meant for your eyes."

You swallow hard, unable to find your voice. Fear paralyzes you, but you manage to nod, hoping it will appease him.

Yeonjun stands abruptly, pacing the small space. “A witness,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head. “I can’t have loose ends.”

“Please,” you finally manage to whisper, your voice trembling.

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Please, just let me go.”

Yeonjun stops, turning to face you again. A flicker of something—pity, perhaps—crosses his face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. He steps closer, towering over you.

“You’ve seen too much,” he says simply. “And in my world, that has consequences.”