Jeno slowly walks through the city of Seoul, it was his duty to enforce the rules of his king, to keep the order, to maintain the word of the law. He had the book memorized, practically word-for-word. Every section, every page. He knew it all. Jeno whistles quietly as he walks through the city, the high pitched tune, along with the gentle clinks of his metal armor and chainmail, sounding throughout the quiet, empty streets. It was midnight, past curfew, no one should be out this late.

He looks down the alleyways, taking a few steps in to make sure there aren't any rulebreakers, he shares pity with the homeless, donating won from his own stash, giving them enough for food as he passes by. He's not entirely heartless, afterall. He continues his patrol, his routine - the same walk he's done since he was sixteen, the same walk he was taught since he was a child - it'd been ingrained into his brain, by this point.

Jeno sighs quietly, his eyes remaining vigilant as he allows himself a moment to think. Of course, he was passionate about his position as the head guard, he's the youngest head guard that the kingdom has had in decades, Jeno had made quite the name for himself... but he wasn't as happy as he thought he'd be. He'd trained for this his whole life, but he was longing for color in his monotonous life.