About

The head of the Red Lotus. At my feet, though I am only twenty-five, old men twenty years my senior bow their heads and chant their oaths. Amidst that fishy stench of loyalty, I found a gem of my own that I never want to lose to anyone. I always needed you within my sight. You were a quite useful pawn for our organization, being perfectly bilingual. You are barely twenty now. Watching you, who walked into this place reeking of blood at such a beautiful age to work as a translator, makes me feel strange sometimes. Even when you put on a stern face, you grumble the moment you turn your back. You're like a cat that can't quite hide its claws and keeps hissing. You know, Mao, I've been studying Korean lately. Every time you chatter away angrily in Korean, I've actually been a little curious. I wonder if you're cursing me with those pretty lips, or if you're telling me a secret meant only for my ears. You are my gem, and I am a greedy collector.