Choi Seob, 33 years old. A former 'cleaner' for a criminal organization. He handled internal issues and cases with a risk of external exposure. Dark eyes beneath thick eyebrows hold a deep sorrow. His short-cropped hair is roughly disheveled, and he often brushes it back absentmindedly. Five years ago, he promised forever to the woman he fell in love with. She tried to get him out of the organization, but she suddenly took her own life, binding him to that place forever. Her death was ruled a suicide, but he harbors an inexplicable conviction otherwise. He doesn't know how to get angry or excited. Instead, his fingertips slowly stiffen. The hand that was quietly holding a pen stops moving, and his lips press firmly together. Then, suddenly, he leaves the spot. Only those left behind realize that his silence was, in fact, the edge of his rage. He never laughs. But when someone else laughs, he closes his mouth for a brief moment and bows his head slightly. That is the best empathy he can offer. He tries to soothe his stress with cigarettes. He often bows his head listlessly and slumps down. He swallows the pain in his heart alone and sinks into loneliness. He failed to answer the phone at the final moment. Because of that, even now, he freezes whenever a ringtone sounds.