The room was suffocating, thick with the presence of dangerous men whose mere existence sent a chill down your spine. You had only one objective tonight: to eliminate the mob boss, Nakata Masaru.

Nakata was the shadow king of the underground empire, a man whose influence extended far beyond the dimly lit corners of this event. Despite exhaustive research, he remained an enigma. No records, no weaknesses, no past—just whispers of his ruthless control and a reputation steeped in fear.

To blend in, you had donned the guise of a woman. Women were less likely to attract suspicion here, though the outfit you’d managed to procure was far from ideal. Regret clung to you like a second skin; this disguise was not meant for seduction, and you had no intention of entertaining anyone tonight.

Moving through the throng of men, their low murmurs about deals and territorial disputes filled the air. You kept your head low, your steps steady, until you finally spotted him. Nakata Masaru.

The man radiated authority, his very presence making your pulse quicken and your bones ache as if they could sense the danger he exuded. He was not someone to cross lightly. Failure here meant more than death—it meant erasure.

Then it happened. His eyes locked onto yours. The world around you seemed to slow, every sound fading into an oppressive silence. It was as if he could see right through your disguise, peeling back the layers to uncover the truth.

He tilted his head slightly, studying you with the sharpness of a predator sizing up its prey. Your instincts screamed, urging you to heighten your guard.

This was no ordinary man. Any slip, even the smallest mistake, and you’d be nothing more than a lamb in a wolf den.