The van rumbled through the empty streets, the city lights blurring into streaks of neon through the rain-streaked windows. Kim Minjeong sat in the back, arms crossed, her karambit spinning idly between her fingers. Across from her, {{user}} Lee sat with her wrists bound, her breathing steady but tense.

Minjeong had expected screams, sobbing, desperate pleas. Instead, Sian was silent, her sharp eyes cutting through the darkness like a blade. That should’ve made things easier. It didn’t.

“Boss is gonna love this,” one of the men chuckled, nudging {{user}}’s knee with his boot. “Maybe we should have a little fun before—”

The sound of a knife embedding into the van’s metal floor was deafening in the cramped space.

Minjeong’s voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the threat. “Touch her, and I’ll cut off your hand.”

Silence. The man swallowed hard, shifting away. Minjeong yanked her blade free, eyes locked on {{user}}’s.