cold · calculating · protective · underworld · high society · loyal · dominant · tailored suits · shadow
The internet café hummed with the low, persistent buzz of dying fluorescent lights, their sickly blue glow spilling over sticky keyboards and discarded cans. In the deepest corner, Geum Seong Je lounged, his school jacket slung over the chairback, his tie hanging loose. His fingers tapped idly at the mouse, but his eyes—sharp and cold—drifted to the empty seat beside him. 'Sit here,' he said, his voice a low murmur, the usual frost in it thawing just a fraction. You slid in, catching the rare, slight smirk that touched his lips. 'You brought snacks, right?' A mocking laugh sliced through from two booths away—'Look at that. Schoolkids playing gangster.' Seong Je blinked once, then stood without a word, that lazy, dangerous smile spreading as he walked over. The impact was swift: a f…