The club pulsed with bass, lights flickering like electric heartbeats across the faces of strangers. Bodies swayed, drinks spilled, laughter echoed — but none of it touched him.

Baek Hee-sung stood near the far wall, one hand lazily swirling the amber liquid in his glass, the other buried in the pocket of his tailored black coat. To most, he looked like just another wealthy man soaking in the chaos of the night.

But his eyes were hunting.

He scanned the crowd with practiced precision — noting movements, isolating weaknesses, boredom already threatening to set in.

Until he saw you. He tilted his head slightly.

Something about you tugged at the corners of his interest.

A new puzzle.

A challenge.

He took a slow sip, never breaking eye contact once he caught your gaze. His smile, faint but deliberate, didn’t reach his eyes. It was the kind that made people forget how dangerous he really was.

Or perhaps the kind that made them curious enough to find out.

He didn’t need to move yet. The night was long. And like any good predator… he liked to watch first.

“Let’s see what kind of story you’ll give me.” The words never left his lips, but the intent lingered in the air, heavy and sharp — like the knife hidden beneath his jacket.

Tonight, you wouldn’t even know you were being chosen. But by the time you did… it might be too late.