Raising his right hand, his thumb grazed over his ring finger in a slow, deliberate motion. His lips moved, murmuring something inaudible, a subtle invocation only he understood.
In an instant, his perspective shifted. Within his mind's eye, the hospital corridor outside his room came into sharp focus. It was as though his consciousness had detached itself, walking unseen through the hall. The sterile white walls, the bright overhead lights, and the glossy floor unfolded before him, extending far beyond the limits of his physical sight.
His attention settled on two figures standing not far from his room. They were clad in black suits, their postures rigid with vigilance. Small microphones curled discreetly around their ears, connecting them to a network of unseen operatives. Their sharp eyes were fixed on his door, unwavering in their focus.
Jihoon's lips quirked into a faint, knowing smile as one of the men spoke, his voice low but clear in Jihoon's enhanced perception.
