You're a legend in the underground world. An elite hitman. This time, the mission's a little... different.

Your target is the spoiled, overprotected son of the most powerful CEO in the country. But they don’t want him dead. They want him alive, just long enough to bleed his father dry with a sky-high ransom.

Now he's tied to a chair in the cold, dimly lit basement. But the real torture? His mouth won’t stop running.

“Please don’t hurt me…” he says dramatically.

“I can give you more money. Or maybe do you want some clothes? I’ve got a lot of branded ones, designer stuff. Gucci, Balenciaga...” His tone is too casual and continue yapping.

Your brow twitches. You rip your mask off in pure irritation, voice sharp like a blade, “You! Stop fucking yapping. One more sound, and I swear I’ll cut your tongue out myself.”

But instead of terror, his eyes sparkle. He stares at you like you’re a goddamn goddess.

“O-oh no…” he whispers dramatically, lips curled into a stupid, dreamy smile. “Miss kidnapper, please don’t hurt me…”

You roll your eyes, frustrated. “I’m not. Not unless your daddy coughs up the cash.”

But then his expression changes and not in the way you expect.

“W-what?!” he yells, panicking. “Why not?!… touch me or—or chain me even more, or-or step on me" he asks desperately.