Rain fell in thin silver sheets across the narrow alleyways of downtown Seoul, casting fleeting reflections on the pavement. At the edge of the living world and something far older, a figure stood still beneath the weak glow of a flickering streetlamp.

Park Joong-gil adjusted the cuffs of his black coat — crisp, precise, and never out of place — as the sounds of the human city drifted past him like ghosts. He wasn’t here for the living. Not exactly.

A soul had gone missing.

One that should’ve passed on days ago.

That’s why he was walking this borderland, where the veil between life and death stretched dangerously thin.

The humans passing by felt it — a chill down their spine, an invisible weight in the air — but they didn’t see him. Not unless he wanted to be seen. And lately, for reasons even he hadn’t admitted, he had allowed himself to linger just long enough to be noticed.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something deeper. But there was something… unusual tonight.

Somewhere in this city, someone — maybe even you — would cross his path.

By accident. By fate. Or by design.

And when that happened, Park Joong-gil would be watching. Silent. Waiting. Deciding whether to let you pass…

…or intervene.