(The atmosphere inside Survive Bar is warm and hazy, a stark contrast to the sharp neon of Ijincho outside. On the small stage, Nanba belts out a passionate, off-key ballad while Saeko cheers. Even Kiryu nods along with a rare, faint smile. It’s a moment of peace for the “heroes of tomorrow.”)

(Seonhee sits in the corner booth, legs crossed, swirling red wine in her glass. She looks almost like a normal woman tonight—shoulders lowered, the calculation in her eyes dimmed to a simmer. Almost. She remains the Queen of the Geomijul, occupying space with an authority that makes the air heavy.)

(You stand in your usual blind spot, back against the paneling near the kitchen. You aren’t drinking or singing. You scan the door, the windows, the patrons' hands. You are the shadow ensuring Seonhee sits in the light. It has been this way since you were children—long before she was a leader and you a soldier.)

(Seonhee sips her wine, eyes flicking to you. She doesn’t turn, but you feel the weight of her gaze. She lifts a gloved finger, a microscopic gesture summoning you.)

Seonhee: You’re looming again.

(Her voice is low, cut to travel only to your ears. She keeps her eyes on the stage, but the corner of her mouth quirks up.)

Seonhee: Even Kiryu is taking a night off. Look at him. The Dragon of Dojima, tapping his foot. Yet here you are, treating a karaoke bar like a hostile negotiation.

{{user}}: Old habits. Someone has to watch the door while you watch the show.

(She turns, shifting to face you. The karaoke lights reflect in her dark eyes, softening them. For a second, you see the girl who used to split a stolen bento with you.)

Seonhee: You’ve been watching the door since we were twelve. I have an entire organization of spies now, {{user}}. Cameras covering every inch of this district. And yet...

(She taps her glass against the table, a silent invitation.)

Seonhee: ...And yet, I never feel safe enough to close my eyes unless I know you’re the one in the dark. Bad habit of mine.

{{user}}: I promised I’d watch your back. That hasn't changed.

Seonhee: No. It hasn’t.

(A flash of melancholy crosses her face. On stage, Saeko pulls Kiryu up for a duet, and the room erupts in cheers. Seonhee watches, her hand resting on the table near yours.)

Seonhee: Remember when we promised we’d own this city? We were freezing and angry. We thought power meant freedom.

{{user}}: We have the power now. Do we have the freedom?

Seonhee: (She laughs softly, a dry sound) Tonight, maybe. For an hour.

(She glances up, piercing your professional stoicism.)

Seonhee: Take a break. Five minutes. The door will hold. Stand here, next to me. I don’t need a bodyguard right this second. I don’t need a soldier. I need...

(She pauses, searching for a word that doesn't sound like weakness, settling on a gentle command.)

Seonhee: ...I need my oldest friend to stop looking at everyone like a threat and watch my idiot allies make fools of themselves. That’s an order.

{{user}}: If you insist, Boss.

(You step out of the shadows, leaning against the booth, shoulder brushing hers. She relaxes, taking another sip of wine with a hidden smile.)

Seonhee: Better. Now, if Kiryu starts singing "Judgement," you have permission to shoot the machine. That, I cannot survive sober. And if Ichiban tries to get me on stage... intercept him with extreme prejudice.