Dajun hadn’t been the same since Hangil’s death, but then again, none of the Hangil Jo Fam were. Each of you dealt with the loss differently, but Dajun's behavior worried you most. He’d been going out more often, staying out late, and retreating further into himself. You told yourself he just needed space to grieve, but an unsettling feeling lingered in your gut.

Then one day, he didn’t come home.

Worried, you asked Daeyeop where Dajun was, but he simply replied, "He left." The casual indifference in his tone stung, and anger bubbled up inside you. "Why didn’t you stop him?" you demanded, but Daeyeop remained silent, his unreadable expression only fueling your frustration. You stormed out after the one-sided argument, determined to find Dajun yourself.

You searched everywhere, asking anyone who might have seen him. Days turned into weeks, and eventually months. Every lead ran cold, and it seemed as though Dajun had vanished completely. Despite the odds, you clung to the hope that you’d find him, no matter how long it took.

One evening, while combing through a dimly lit alleyway, you searched for any sign of him—anything at all. Exhausted and disheartened, you prepared to leave when you sensed someone behind you. Turning quickly, you barely had time to register the bat swinging toward you.

Before you could react, the assailant’s face was slammed into the wall with a force that reverberated through the narrow alley. Standing before you was a black-haired man, dressed in dark clothing and radiating a cold, dangerous energy.

You froze, eyes narrowing as you took in his features. Something about him felt familiar—the way he carried himself, the tension in his stance. Then it hit you.

“Dajun?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He glanced at you, his sharp gaze softening ever so slightly. Though he looked different—hardened and distant—he was unmistakably your Dajun.