The dinner had been better than Sunghoon expected.
Though he barely touched the wine and said even less, the food was rich and clean, the restaurant ambiance low-lit and private — exactly what Daejun had promised.
No cameras. No eyes that mattered.
They stepped out into the crisp night air of Seoul's Gangnam District, where the world buzzed with life. Street lights glowed soft golden hues, high-end storefronts sparkled, and the sidewalk was alive with footsteps, laughter, heels clicking against pavement.
Sunghoon slid his hands into his coat pockets, eyes scanning the crowd like it was a scene from a movie he had no part in.
Couples walked hand in hand. Friends took selfies outside cafes. A little girl pointed at a light-up bear in a shop window and giggled.
Sunghoon blinked slowly.
Too much joy. Too much noise. Too fake.
But just as he turned toward the car parked down the block, a group of girls suddenly blocked his path.
"Excuse me!" one said breathlessly, practically glowing.
Another clutched her phone, holding it out like a microphone. "You're seriously gorgeous… Are you an actor? Model? Wait—idol?"
"Can we get your number?" the tallest girl chimed in, bouncing slightly. "Just KakaoTalk… or WeChat?"
Sunghoon stared blankly.
He didn't even blink.
The girls tried harder — flipping hair, giggling, whispering among themselves. He just stood there like an iceberg in an ocean of perfume and makeup.
Then finally, one of them dared to step closer.
"I swear you look like someone from Dreamland," she murmured, her voice dipping.
Sunghoon tilted his head slightly. Not interested. Not impressed. Not even annoyed — just empty.
And that made him even more dangerously attractive.
Before anyone could embarrass themselves further, Daejun appeared, stepping between Sunghoon and the girls with a polite, apologetic smile.
"Sorry, ladies," he said cheerfully, holding up his hands like a peace offering. "He's not single. Married, actually. Just came out for dinner with me — his brother-in-law."
The girls gasped, backed up, and muttered awkward apologies.
"Seriously?!"
"Ugh, of course…"
"Well… he still looked like a K-drama villain…"
They shuffled off reluctantly, whispering about how unfair life was.
Sunghoon slowly turned his sharp gaze down at Daejun — all 200 cm of him towering over the man like a statue of wrath.
Daejun, standing proudly at 178 cm, grinned innocently. "What? It worked, didn't it?"
Sunghoon didn't say a word.
Just narrowed his eyes.
If looks could kill, Daejun would've been six feet under and buried next to a stack of marriage licenses.
"You made me married?" Sunghoon said coldly.
"Only for five seconds," Daejun defended. "You want attention in this city, or you want to blend in? Thought so."
Sunghoon shook his head once and walked away.
Daejun followed, chuckling under his breath. "Next time, I'll say you're engaged. That'll really scare them."
Sunghoon stopped.
Daejun froze.
"…Noted," Sunghoon muttered, then kept walking.
And just like that, Seoul had welcomed its most dangerous guest — with fan girls, fake lies, and a storm nobody saw coming.
They reached the car in silence. The black SUV pulled away from the curb, melting into the stream of Seoul nightlife.
Inside, the air was still.
Streetlights flashed across Sunghoon's face as he leaned back against the seat, one arm resting on the door, eyes fixed on the moving blur of the city.
Daejun glanced at him through the rearview mirror, expecting another quiet ride.
But Sunghoon suddenly said, "Open the footage."
Daejun blinked. "Now?"
"Yes," Sunghoon replied sharply. "Let's see what she's doing."
Without another word, Daejun reached into the glove box and pulled out a tablet. With a few taps, the live security feeds synced — tapping into the hidden cameras set outside library
The screen lit up in the backseat.
There she was.
Yoo Hana — well dressed setting in library at this time sketching something
No music. No distractions.
Just a girl in her own quiet world, with a pencil and paper.
Sunghoon watched her in silence. Not smiling. Not blinking. Just watching.
"She lives too gently for someone born into war," he muttered.
Daejun said nothing. He knew better than to comment.
Sunghoon continued watching the footage, as if memorizing every detail — her posture, her focus, the way she bit her lip when erasing something from her drawing.
He didn't look away even once.
"Keep recording," he said at last. "And tomorrow… follow her."
( in sunghoon apartment)
The apartment was silent.
Sunghoon lay in bed, unable to sleep. For the first time, he was away from home — from the house where yuna used to laugh, where her voice once echoed.
After a while, he got up and walked into the kitchen. The marble floor felt cold under his feet. He opened the cabinet, pulled out a bottle of wine, and poured himself a glass with trembling fingers.
Then another.
And another.
Finally, he sat on the kitchen stool, eyes glassy.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded photograph — Yuna's picture.
For a moment, he stared at it.
And then the tears came.
He held the picture against his chest as he cried — harder than he ever had.
"Don't worry…" he whispered. "I'll make them regret it."
"I'll kill their youngest daughter…"
"…the same way they killed you."
The wine glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor.
But he didn't notice.
He was still holding her picture. Still drowning in grief.
After pouring himself a glass of wine, Sunghoon sat down and opened the tablet.
He pulled up the hallway footage.
Yoo Hana was leaving the library.
Later, the front hallway footage showed her walking quietly back to her room.
When she entered the room, the hallway camera caught the door closing gently behind her.
Sunghoon kept watching.
One feed after another. Her every quiet step. Her silence. Her strange calm.
Somewhere between the soft hum of the footage and the burn of the wine in his throat, he didn't realize when his eyes closed.
And he finally fell asleep — the tablet still glowing beside him, her image frozen on the screen.
On the other hand, Hana, unaware of things, changed into comfortable clothes and sat down to eat her dinner quietly.
She glanced at the wall clock and blinked.
"Oops… already midnight?" she mumbled to herself, brushing her hair back. "From tomorrow, I'll come home on time from the library."
She smiled faintly and picked up her book again, settling in for the night — completely unaware that someone is here in Seoul for her.