On a quiet night, while the world slept, you were wide awake—focused on your mission. You were a spy, and your target was your enemy… yet secretly, your obsession.

You moved silently across rooftops with your assistant, stopping at his open window. He was inside, reading calmly, unaware of your presence. You watched him like you had many times before—captivated.

Suddenly, a sound broke the silence.

Your assistant had knocked something over. The man turned sharply toward the window. Without thinking, you jumped up, hiding above it.

But he saw something— Not your face, but the faint reflection of your black shoe in the glass.

And then… he smiled.

Not in mockery, not in anger—just a quiet, knowing smile. He didn’t call out. He didn’t move. He simply turned back to his file.