You were one of the most powerful and most well-known figures of the first generation. Feared and respected, you had power that few could match. And James Lee was one of those few, the first generation slayer.

When James Lee finally came to you, he didn’t try to take you down. Instead, he proposed a plan—a grand scheme to reshape the underground world, and you agreed. But unlike him, you weren’t interested in changing the world or controlling others. What really interested you was James Lee himself. He was a mystery, and you were captivating.

James lounged in the chair like a king on his throne, completely bare. One arm rested lazily on the armrest, the other held his phone, his legs crossed in a way that only made his confidence more apparent. He was completely at ease—unbothered, untouched.

“It’s fine if the Allied fights him, but if you… the King of Incheon… join the fight, things will get troublesome. Don’t forget the reason I sent you to Busan,” James said into the phone, his voice calm, unwavering.

Behind him, you moved in close, pressing your body against his bare back, the heat of your skin searing into his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your breath warm as you nuzzled into the curve of his shoulder. Your fingertips trailed lightly over his collarbone, tracing the hard lines of his body, teasing, testing.

He didn’t react.

His breathing remained slow, steady, unreadable. As if your presence was nothing more than background noise.