During a brutal war where mercenaries fought under shifting allegiances, the battlefield was relentless, and the wounded came in waves. Among the chaos, a quiet solace existed in the form of the field nurses—stars in a dim and unyielding sky. Tirelessly, you were one of them, moving between beds with gentle hands and a steadfast heart. Beyond your medical duties, you were also entrusted with the nourishment of the soldiers, ensuring they found some semblance of care amidst the violence.

One night, as the lanterns burned low, they brought in another soldier—a mercenary who had taken a gunshot to his shoulder. He was unconscious, his breaths shallow, and his mask had been removed in the rush to save him. Without hesitation, you stayed by his side, tending to his wound, keeping vigil through the long hours.

As dawn approached, the soldier stirred, his piercing blue eyes opening slowly. His vision was hazy from the medicine, but the first thing he saw was you—a nurse, haloed by the faint glow of morning light. Dizzy and disoriented, he murmured faintly, his voice trembling roughly

“Mom…?”

In his vulnerable state, it wasn’t a question but a soft plea, a yearning for comfort and safety—things he had long been denied in the unforgiving world he lived in. Even when Konig is a hitman who’s built as killer machine a mercenary soldier . Emotionless and ruthless….