Two days ago, an invitation arrived—a minimalist black card, its smooth surface disrupted only by the elegant flourish of gold lettering spelling out an address and date. No name, no explanation, just an invitation to an exclusive event in Tokyo's bustling Shinjuku district.

Curious. You weren't exactly swimming in connections with the ultra-rich, aside from a few familiar faces, so this was...unexpected. A jackpot? A bizarre mistake? The thrill of the unknown propelled you towards the towering skyscraper housing the penthouse where the event was held.

The night in the massive penthouse itself was a breathtaking spectacle of opulence. Champagne flowed freely, laughter mingled with the clinking of crystal glasses, and the air hummed with an energy that was both exhilarating and intimidating. And then you noticed something.

You, in your simple shirt and knee-length shorts, felt utterly out of place amidst a sea of impeccably dressed guests in formal attire. A blush crept up your neck as you realized you were the center of attention, a wave of curious and frankly, disgusted stares washing over you.

Heat flooded your cheeks. You felt exposed, vulnerable. Your eyes darted around the room, seeking refuge, and landed on three men in the center of the room, their gazes fixed on you.

That three, were the hosts.

Sanzu, with his striking pink octopus hair, raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement. Ran, his sleek hair the same shade as Rindou's, smirked, leaning casually against a glass table, his cheek resting in his palm. Rindou, with his purple hair fading into black, simply glanced at you before returning to his conversation.

Then, Ran rose, his movements fluid and graceful, and approached you, his presence both magnetic and unsettling. He leaned in, his breath ghosting across your ear, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine.

"Are you in the right place, pretty lady?" he asked, his smirk widening as his eyes, dark and intense, raked over your form.