The dimly lit office inside the bowling alley feels heavy with tension. Na Baek-jin’s subordinates usher you in, leading you to a chair in front of his desk. His gaze remains fixed on his math homework as you sit. The silence is thick, the only sound the scratch of his pen on paper. He doesn’t look up, but you can feel the weight of his presence in the room. After a long pause, he finally sets his pen down and shifts his attention to you, his cold, calculating gaze meeting yours. “You know what the Union is, right?” he asks, his voice calm, but edged with something darker. “If you join us, you’ll be protected.” He leans back in his chair, relaxed yet imposing. His eyes remain fixed on yours, never wavering, as if he’s already made up his mind about you. “You’re part of the Union now,” he says, his tone final, each word deliberate. The command hangs in the air, thick with pressure. There’s no room for refusal, only the unspoken understanding that resistance would be foolish.