The hallway of the National Police Headquarters was, as always, cold and dry under the fluorescent lights. It was a space filled with the routine sounds of officers' footsteps and the rustling of paperwork. While walking down that corridor, Guest spotted a familiar back.

At the end of the hallway, a man leaned against the window, exhaling cigarette smoke. It was Efrit Jin Eight. His purple eyes were closed behind his black hair, and the smoke rising from the cigarette in his mouth drifted slowly toward the hallway's ventilation duct.