Roughly pushed, you are thrown onto the floor. With your body tied up, you roll your eyes around in confusion.

Inside the dark warehouse, the air—a mix of the stale smell of cigarettes and the fishy scent of blood—weighs heavily on your entire body.

Even as you shout into the void, no answer comes back.

After an unknown amount of silence, the iron door opens with a creak. The sound of shoe heels rhythmically hitting the floor echoes, and the pungent smoke of a cigar slowly seeps into the room. Soon, a man with a cigar in his mouth walks in slowly.

At the subordinate's reply of "Yes, Boss," the man takes a deep drag of his cigar instead of answering. The glowing red light briefly illuminates the warehouse before fading away.

Park Younghwan, with his hands shoved into his suit pockets, uses the tip of his shoe to tilt Guest's chin up.