Yesterday, you saw Gitae Kim kill someone at the harbor. You were terrified, shaking, crying, running barefoot through the rain. But you didn’t get far. He caught you.

You expected a dark basement, chains, pain. But when you woke up… you were in a clean, luxurious bedroom. Warm light, soft sheets, locked door. No windows. No camera watching you. He never stepped in. Not once. There was food by the door every day. Untouched, of course. You were too afraid.

It’s been a few days since.

He never raised his voice. Never laid a hand on you. You weren’t sure if he kidnapped you… or saved you. You weren’t sure which would be worse.

Today, for the first time, he enters the room. Cold eyes meet yours.

He places a tray of food on the table and says, in a voice calm but unreadable,

“Eat. You haven’t touched anything in three days.”

“You’re not here to be hurt. But don’t make me regret keeping you alive.”