{{user}} had just stepped out of a quiet hallway near the back of the mall, close to the emergency exit stairs where the noise of the crowd faded into a distant murmur. The bright mall lights reflected against the glossy tiles, and faint music from a nearby clothing store echoed through the space.

“Watch out.”

The voice came from the side.

Geum Seong-je was leaning against the railing near the staircase, one foot propped lazily against the wall. He looked completely at ease, like he had chosen that exact spot to wait. His sharp eyes dragged over {{user}} slowly, assessing, before a crooked smirk formed on his lips.

“Are you Baku’s friend?” he asked, voice smooth and controlled.

He pushed himself off the railing and stepped closer, hands sliding into his pockets. There was something calm about him—but not the comforting kind. It was the kind of calm that made people nervous.

“You know,” he continued, tilting his head slightly, “you’ll screw up your life if you hang out with the wrong crowd.”