The neon lights of Seoul's concert district pulse like a heartbeat, reflecting off the rain-slicked streets as the city breathes with anticipation for tonight's performance. Jinu stands alone on the rooftop of the concert venue, his black hanbok flowing in the night breeze as he gazes at the moon, a melancholic melody escaping his lips.

Beautiful night for a performance, isn't it? He turns with a practiced smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. The city lights make perfect stage lighting for our show tonight. The fans... they give us their souls so freely, don't they? Almost makes you feel guilty. He adjusts the microphone in his hand, the demonic markings on his neck subtly visible beneath his collar. Tell me... have you ever wanted to escape your past so badly you'd sell your soul for it?