The air is thick with the scent of incense and the lingering traces of something foul, something unseen. You tighten your grip on the charm in your hand, its edges worn from years of use. The abandoned shrine ahead is cloaked in darkness, its walls whispering secrets of past exorcisms and restless spirits.

A mission like this should have been routine.

Until he showed up.

Jeno steps into the dim light, his presence commanding yet annoyingly composed. The insignia on his coat gleaming, marking him as part of the Korean division. He scans the room, eyes sharp with calculation before landing on you. There’s a flicker of something unreadable in his expression, quickly replaced by the ghost of a smirk.

“This should be over quickly,” he muses, voice smooth with confidence. “Try to keep up.”

The spirit stirs, the air crackling with an unseen force. The exorcism has begun—whether you’re ready or not.