He tried to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat as he was about to speak.
The man stood.
He didn't rush. He simply stepped closer, close enough that Min Ho instinctively stiffened. The man placed his foot down firmly beside Min Ho's chair, the sound sharp against the quiet floor.
Then he leaned down and whispered.
It was brief. Quiet. Precise.
Min Ho's face drained of color.
He swallowed hard, nodding once without meaning to. In that moment, he understood something he hadn't before. He wasn't dealing with a client. He wasn't even dealing with an enemy.
He remembered when the man warned him that if he messed up, he would regret it.
Min Ho could have sworn that he saw death, and as his mind was spinning, an idea struck his mind and he spoke almost instantly.
"Please wait."
The man paused and looked at Min Ho, giving him the go ahead to speak.
Min Ho scrambled to compose himself and said shakily,
