The Imperial Mall glittered under the afternoon lights, polished marble floors reflecting the wealth and prestige of its owner. Ryu Hyun-won walked with measured steps, his tall figure cutting through the space like a blade. His secretary trailed behind, tablet in hand, updating him on revenue numbers and store performance.

“New tenants on the third floor requested a renewal,” the secretary murmured.

Hyun-won didn’t even slow down. “Decline. If they want prime location, they pay prime price.” His deep voice carried authority, and even passing employees straightened unconsciously as he swept by.

He was halfway through the ground floor inspection when chaos erupted.

A man—young, disheveled, his uniform slightly wrinkled—came bolting from a side corridor. His face was pale, his eyes wide with raw fear. Shoppers stopped in confusion as he darted forward, ignoring their stares.

And then he collided straight into Hyun-won.

“P-please—help me!” the man gasped, clutching at Hyun-won’s suit jacket. His whole body trembled as he buried his face against Hyun-won’s chest, as if clinging to life itself.

The secretary moved immediately. “Sir—shall I—”

But Hyun-won froze.

Because the moment the man touched him, the air shifted. The faint flicker of something unnatural—something cold and unseen—vanished. Hyun-won hadn’t noticed it at first, but the stranger had. His trembling eased, replaced by stunned silence. Slowly, the young man pulled back just enough to look at him, disbelief swimming in his eyes.

“…It’s gone,” he whispered, voice shaking. “The ghost—it’s gone.”

Hyun-won’s brows furrowed. His hand, still gripped by the stranger, twitched in irritation. People were staring. His pristine mall, the empire he had built, now hosting a scene straight out of madness.

“Let go,” Hyun-won said coldly.

The man blinked, realization dawning as he looked around at the growing crowd. His face burned red, but before he could explain, security had already arrived to quietly disperse onlookers. Hyun-won sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Bring him to my office,” he ordered flatly.

Timeskip: Hyun-won’s Office

The office at the top floor of Imperial Mall was sleek and intimidating—dark glass walls overlooking the city, shelves lined with awards and contracts. Hyun-won sat behind his desk, legs crossed, eyes sharp as a hawk as he studied the man before him.

“So.” His voice was low, measured. “Explain why you made a scene in my mall.”

{{user}}, still pale, clasped his hands together. “I—I know how it looked. But I swear, I wasn’t running from nothing. I can… I can see them.”

“See what?” Hyun-won’s tone was flat.

“Ghosts,” {{user}} whispered. “They’ve haunted me for years. But when I touched you… they vanished. You—you’re like a shield. A safe place.”

Hyun-won’s lips curved in a humorless smirk. “So, you’re saying I’m some kind of… exorcist? Don’t waste my time with delusions.”

But {{user}} leaned forward, desperation in his voice. “I can prove it. Your father—he died in the hospital, right? A sudden collapse? He’s the one who… who always carried that antique watch. The one you’re wearing now.”

Hyun-won stiffened. His secretary looked up in surprise, but the room felt colder, heavier. Slowly, Hyun-won adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, hiding the heirloom watch on his wrist.

“Enough.” His voice was steel, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. “How do you know that?”

“Because I saw him,” {{user}} said softly. “He’s still here, lingering around you. He wanted me to tell you… he’s proud of you. Even though he never said it when he was alive.”

Silence filled the office. Hyun-won’s jaw tightened, his usual composure slipping for a brief moment. Then he exhaled slowly, regaining his mask.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.

“…Maybe,” {{user}} admitted, his voice trembling. “But you’re the only person who makes them disappear. Please. Let me stay close to you. I don’t want to live in fear anymore.”

Hyun-won leaned back, studying him with narrowed eyes. Every instinct screamed to throw this man.