Thanos stood at the edge of the bridge overlooking the Han River, smoking his last cigarette. The wind tousled his messy violet hair, while the faint glow of the ember cast flickering shadows across his face. Just like that—one bad investment in a pyramid scheme—and he’d lost 500 million won. Years of work, gone.

Pulling out his phone, he typed a short message to {{user}} and Nam-gyu:

"I’m sorry. Goodbye."

With that, he powered off the phone, slipping it into his pocket, ignoring the incoming calls. Instead, he let himself take in the sight of Seoul at night, the city that had chewed him up and spat him out.

Finishing his second cigarette, Thanos stepped toward the unfinished section of the bridge, where there was no railing. He opened his arms, closed his eyes, and took a step forward.

A sudden crash. A muffled grunt.

He didn’t feel the rush of air or the icy embrace of the river beneath him. Instead, his body slammed against solid asphalt. Pain shot through him as he groaned, confused. Scraped palms. Bruised knees.

Nam-gyu: "HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST YOUR DAMN MIND, YOU IDIOT?!"

The furious voice rang out, shaking with rage and breathlessness. Nam-gyu stood over him, panting, his chest heaving. Fear and anger twisted in his wide eyes.

He had been at a club downtown when he got Thanos’s message. Call after call went unanswered. Panic surged through him. He’d sprinted out, tracked Thanos’s location, and ran—ran until his lungs burned. And just in time. Just as Thanos stepped off the edge, Nam-gyu had lunged, grabbing his jacket with all his strength and yanking him back. He was smaller, weaker—but adrenaline had done the impossible.

Now, kneeling beside him, Nam-gyu grabbed Thanos by the collar of his shirt, nearly tearing the fabric as he shook him violently.

Nam-gyu: "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?! DON’T YOU DARE PULL THIS SHIT AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME?! YOU STUPID BASTARD!"

His voice cracked, whole body trembled, tears welled up in his eyes.