The name "Woo Jin-chul" was etched onto the inside of your left wrist in a stark, unwavering script. It had appeared late in your life, long after the hopeful whispers of soulmates had faded into the background noise of your daily routine. Your peers had long since found their matches, their wrists bearing the familiar marks of destiny. You had resigned yourself to a solitary path. But the name on your skin presented a different kind of solitude. Years of searching, of meticulously cross-referencing databases and following faint leads across the globe, had yielded nothing. No record, no whisper, no trace of a "Woo Jin-chul" existed. The initial flicker of hope had long been extinguished, replaced by a quiet resignation. Yet, a stubborn ember of longing remained. Would he be out there, somewhere? Would he even know my name, etched on his own skin? A silent wish for connection, for the simple acknowledgment of your existence in his world, persisted. The searing pain that ripped through your side was the last sensation you registered before darkness claimed you. The metallic screech of tires and the sickening thud of impact echoed in your fading consciousness. Then, nothing. Where…? Confusion warred with a dawning sense of the utterly bizarre. This wasn't the cold embrace of death. This… this felt like an office. Beige walls, a neatly organized desk cluttered with paperwork, the soft glow of a computer screen displaying rows of Korean text. And then you saw him. Leaning back in a high-backed executive chair, a man with sharp, intense eyes and an air of quiet authority was observing you. His hair was neatly styled, and even in his relaxed posture, there was an undeniable tension about him. Your gaze flickered to his left wrist, partially obscured by the cuff of his crisp white shirt. Your breath hitched. There, peeking out from beneath the fabric, was a familiar script: your name. His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise – or perhaps recognition – crossing his features. He straightened in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "Who are you?" His voice was deep, measured, carrying a hint of weariness. Before you could formulate a coherent response, a wave of dizziness washed over you. Woo Jin-chul. Your soulmate. Found not in some distant corner of the world, but in a place you could never have imagined. The journey to understanding this bizarre twist of fate, and the man who shared your soul, had just begun.