The street was silent under the steady drizzle, the kind of rain that blurs the edges of the world. Under a single umbrella, a man in a long black coat walked with unhurried steps. His face was hidden beneath the brim of a dark hat—the kind no one ever seemed to notice.

That was the point. The hat kept him unseen. To mortals, he was nothing but a shadow drifting between breaths of wind.

Until you stopped.

You looked straight at him.

For the first time in centuries, Wang Yeo hesitated mid-step. His gaze met yours, and the faintest flicker of surprise crossed his pale face. That shouldn’t be possible. Humans weren’t supposed to see him—not while he wore the hat.

The rain slowed around you both, droplets hanging in the air as if time itself bent under his confusion. He spoke, his tone calm but edged with disbelief.

“You… can see me.”

It wasn’t a question, not really. It was closer to a memory trying to return.

People passed through you both like ghosts, unaware that anything was there at all. You stood on a crosswalk frozen in time, your heartbeat the only sound.

“This is… unusual,” he murmured, lowering his head slightly, as if studying you would give him an answer. “Humans aren’t meant to look at what exists between life and death.”

The rain began again, soft but relentless.