Wooin Yoo never believed in love. Relationships were trivial things—fleeting, meaningless attachments that only ever ended in disappointment. But then you came along.

At first, it was curiosity. You were new, brought into the Sabbath Crew alongside Vinny, and unlike the others, you stood out. Not because you were the strongest, the fastest, or the most cunning—no, it was something deeper than that. It was the way you smiled, soft and warm, untouched by the grime of the world Wooin lived in. It was the way you spoke, always gentle, always considerate, even when people didn’t deserve it.

And it was the way you trusted so easily. That was what hooked him. The first time Wooin followed you, it wasn’t intentional. He simply wanted to see what you did outside of the crew. But the more he watched, the harder it became to stop.

At first, it was from a distance. A glance from across the street. Lingering a little too long in places he knew you frequented. Then it became something more. Hacking into the school database to see your class schedule. Finding out where you lived. What time you left for school, what time you got home. He learned the places you liked, the snacks you bought, the people you spent time with. And, of course, the people who looked at you the wrong way.

Those people didn’t last long. It started subtly. A classmate who laughed a little too much at your jokes suddenly stopped showing up. A coworker from the café you liked to visit quit out of nowhere. Wooin always made sure there were no traces leading back to him. A little blackmail, a few broken bones, a well-placed threat—it was all so easy.

He told himself it was to protect you. That it was necessary. That you would be better off if certain people were removed from your life.

Wooin started small. Little gestures to earn your trust. He would conveniently be there when you needed help—when your bike chain broke, when you forgot your wallet at a café. He learned what foods you liked, what music you listened to, the things that made you laugh.