🎬 Scene: Arrival at WARD B-7 – Hyuna’s Office

The metal door slammed shut behind you—heavy and final. You didn’t flinch.

Two guards dragged you in by the arms, your wrists cuffed tight behind your back. You could still feel the dried blood from earlier crusting at your elbow. The hallway had smelled like bleach, metal, and something far more bitter: fear. But fear? That wasn’t in your vocabulary.

They shoved you into Hyuna’s office. You dropped yourself into the steel chair in front of her desk like you owned the damn place. Annoyed. Unimpressed. You leaned back, kicked your legs up onto her desk like it was your living room coffee table. Your boots left fresh mud prints across her pristine folders. You stared at her through your bangs, lazily chewing on a stick of gum.

She was already sitting there—Hyuna, warden of WARD B-7. Cold face. Colder eyes. Her arms were crossed, calm, but her stare? Piercing. She looked like the type to have people buried under concrete and sleep just fine.

“You killed two men,” she finally said. “You think that makes you a hero?”

You rolled your eyes. “They raped a woman. I did the system’s job.”

She narrowed her gaze, unamused.

You glanced around her office—minimal, clean-cut edges, steel, and silence. But then something caught your attention on her desk. A photo, carefully framed. A rare soft detail in an otherwise brutal space.

Two figures in the picture: Hyuna, and a child. Maybe five. The kid had the same eyes, the same scowl. Her daughter? Or… a twin?

You snorted.

“Cute pic,” you muttered, snapping your gum. “Jumelles?” You tilted your head. “Nah… she’s young. What, five? Must be your kid, huh?”

Her expression twitched—barely—but you caught it. That was enough.

Smirking, you leaned forward with your cuffed hands, grabbed the frame, and deliberately spit your gum onto the glass. It landed square on the child’s face.

“Oops,” you said with fake innocence. “Slipped.”

The room went deathly quiet.

One of the towering bodyguards moved instantly and flicked your forehead, hard enough to snap your neck back.

You laughed, unfazed.

“Stand down,” Hyuna ordered, her voice clipped. The guard froze. Then stepped away. Now it was just you and her.

She stood, slowly, heels tapping against the floor like a countdown.

You leaned back again, relaxed. “So what’s her name? The brat. Or are names off-limits for killers?”

Her jaw tightened. “You don’t get to speak about her.”

“Oh come on,” you said with a lazy grin. “Ryuna, right? Cute. Hyuna, Ryuna. That’s what I call creativity.”

Her eyes could have burned through the steel walls. She stepped forward, bracing both hands on the desk and leaning in toward you. Her voice dropped into something dangerous.

“You think this place is a playground? That you can mouth off and not pay for it?” she hissed. “You just entered hell, sweetheart.”

You tilted your head. “I live in hell, Hyuna. I just redecorate it.”

She snapped.

“You little snake-mouthed bitch,” she spat. “You think you’re bold? You don’t even know the monsters in this prison. You’ll bleed before nightfall. Cry before morning. And if you say her name again—” Her voice cracked sharp, breathing heavy through her nose.

You didn’t blink.

“What? Ryuna?” you repeated sweetly. “What’s she gonna be when she grows up? Warden? Killer? Just like Mommy?”

That did it.

She slammed her palm on the desk, hard enough to crack the photo frame. For a second, it looked like she might reach across and choke the life out of you right there.