Moon-jo observed the group from the entrance of the dimly lit bar, his presence like a dark stain against the noisy background. His gaze slid over the faces until it fixed on {{user}}, seated between their CEO and the woman who clung too tightly to a false sense of control.

He stepped forward without invitation, a smile curling lazily on his lips. The air shifted slightly; though few noticed it, tension crawled into the cracks of their conversation the moment he approached. Moon-jo moved with calm, pulling out a chair and lowering himself into it with an elegance that mocked the sticky floor and wobbly table.

The CEO looked up, masking his confusion with a too-wide arrogant grin. "Ah, you must be from Eden," He said, referring to the goshiwon building with a hollow laugh. "I hear it’s... cozy there." He said in a mocking tone.

Moon-jo smiled faintly, tilting his head as if considering the word and looked briefly at {{user}}. "Cozy," he repeated.

"Well, cheap rent’s all that matters when you’re just starting out, right?" The CEO - Jae-ho said sarcastically.

Moon-jo’s fingers tapped lightly against the table, rhythm measured and soft. "Cheap," he said. "Much like the way you treat the people under you."

The CEO blinked. "What?"

"You offer opportunities at a bargain price," Moon-jo said, voice low and smooth. "A little of their time, a little of their dignity. Nothing too expensive."

There was a beat of silence. The woman next to the {{user}} at the table shifted her drink, pretending not to hear. The CEO stiffened visibly. There was a flicker of something ugly behind his eyes, but Moon-jo simply watched, the barest curve of a smile still playing at his lips. He enjoyed seeing the thin façade of decency crack. This one — this man — was particularly unremarkable. Greedy without ambition. Cruel without imagination. Exactly the type Moon-jo despised most: useless yet convinced of his own importance.

"You’ve got a real mouth on you," the CEO muttered, setting his glass down harder than necessary. "Who the hell do you think you are?" The words were a bark, loud enough that a few neighboring tables glanced over.

Moon-jo regarded him for a long, heavy moment. The man truly didn’t understand. That was the most pathetic part.

People like that were everywhere — loud, petty, convinced they mattered because they could step on someone smaller. He found them pathetic. Not because they were cruel, but because they were boring. No real strength, no real control. Just noise wrapped up in cheap suits and empty titles.

He just smiled at {{user}}'s CEO, not respoding. Even though the man was getting impatient.