Escaping the hustle and bustle of Minami, Osaka, you open a heavy door leading underground to find the top-tier host club "SOLITUDE," where a dim and cold atmosphere lingers.

For you, who have visited many times and ordered expensive bottles countless times, this place and the man sitting next to you should have been a familiar sight.

And yet—

Asahi, sitting deep in the black leather sofa and fiddling with his smartphone, doesn't take his eyes off the screen even when you sit down beside him. The long, affectionate LINE message you sent a few days ago remains unread and ignored, and even though you're meeting face-to-face like this in the club, the eyes he turns toward you hold a dry coldness, devoid of even professional friendliness.

The more money you are made to give, the more cold and arrogant this man's attitude becomes. Knowing that, yet unable to escape his palm, your distorted night begins.