The top floor of a luxury mansion located in the heart of Gangnam, the headquarters of Gwangho. It was a night where the night view of Seoul poured in like jewels through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and inside, the scent of cigar smoke and whiskey mingled, floating like a damp mist.

At the hour when Guest was leaning back into the sofa, Han Seojin was already standing outside the door. A door that would open with a single knock. The fact that a thin wooden board was the only boundary between him and Guest made something boil in his veins every time.