The evening sun dipped below Tokyo's skyline, casting a warm glow over the airport as Dante, Raikou, and Mikasa lugged their bags toward the gate.
Yor had tagged along to see them off, her dark ponytail bouncing as she kept up through the bustling terminal.
The place was a madhouse—travelers all over the place, preponing their flights to dodge the looming storm, voices tangling with the crackle of announcements—but Dante cut through it with a lazy smirk, Mikasa trailing close and Raikou forging ahead.
At the gate, Raikou turned to Yor, her voice softening into that mom tone she wielded like a weapon.
"You'll be alright on your own, won't you, sweetie? Eat real food—don't just live off guild slop."
She brushed a stray hair from Yor's face, her touch tender but firm, pure care in every gesture.
Yor's cheeks went pink, her A-rank cool crumbling under the spotlight.
"Mom, I'm fine—seriously," she mumbled, eyes darting to the crowd with a shy squirm.
"You don't have to fuss… not here."
But her little smile betrayed her—she soaked up Raikou's love, even if it made her shrink in public.
Raikou grinned, pulling her into a quick, tight hug.
"You're still my girl, eldest or not. Take care, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah,"
Yor said, ducking her head but hugging back. Dante caught her eye and winked.
"Don't let the guild crash without us, sis."
She shoved him lightly, rolling her eyes. "Just don't get into trouble over there, you gremlin."
"No promises," he shot back, grinning as they waved her off and boarded.
The plane's VIP section was straight-up plush, with leather seats, a minibar, and a PlayStation hooked up to a big screen.
Dante flopped onto a couch, snagging a controller.
"Mikasa, you in? Tekken 8—let's see if you've got moves."
Mikasa paused, then grabbed the second controller, her quiet fire sparking.
"You're done," she said, soft but fierce, settling beside him.
Raikou watched from her seat, sipping a drink with a smirk.
"Don't cry when she owns you, Dante."
The screen flared—Dante picked Jin Kazama, all dark swagger, while Mikasa went for Asuka, quick and scrappy.
Round one was a mess—Dante's combos were slick, but Mikasa bobbed and weaved, landing a sneaky uppercut that floored Jin.
"What the—?!" Dante barked, laughing as he leaned in. "You're hacking!"
"I'm just better," she deadpanned, a rare grin tugging her lips as she snagged the win.
Raikou chuckled, "Told you."
The flight zipped by in button-mashing and banter, the storm a faint rumble outside.
When they landed in Seoul, the air was crisp, the storm held off for now.
At arrival, Hyeonjung Lee stood waiting, her red hair catching the light, her reddish-brown eyes calm and caring.
She was a stunner—curves hugged by a tailored blazer, her poise steady despite her husband's death three months back.
Beside her was Miss Sim—short blue hair, sharp and professional, a hot edge to her butler chic—no daughters in sight yet.
Raikou stepped up, her grin wide. "Hyeonjung! Too long, huh?" She hugged her sister-in-law, then turned.
"You remember Dante and Mikasa, right? They were tiny last time—your trip to Tokyo years ago."
Hyeonjung's gaze softened, landing on Dante.
"Oh, I do—little terror with a mop of hair. Look at you now."
Her voice was smooth, sensible, but had a spark that hit different—Pornhwa energy simmering under the calm.
She pulled him into a hug, warm and real, her figure unavoidable.
'She's stacked as hell,' Dante thought, smirk twitching.
She turned to Mikasa, gentler. "And you—so quiet and sweet. A beauty now."
Mikasa blushed, nodding shyly. "Nice to see you… again."
Miss Sim gave a crisp nod, adjusting her glasses. "Welcome to Seoul. The car's ready."
They piled into a luxe SUV, Hyeonjung driving, Miss Sim up front.
The ride to her villa was smooth, Seoul's lights flickering on.
At the gate, a beefy guy grabbed their bags—He Junbae, moving under orders from Chief Secretary Oh, a fat old man barking like a drill sergeant.
Dante clocked Junbae,
'The original Pornhwa protag? Dude's got that dopey hero look. Probably screws up everything chasing ass. He owned the Hyeonjung's Residence by the end of the story.'
'Too bad, you won't be smashing anything with me in the game.'
He bit back a laugh, keeping it in his head.
Inside the villa—a sleek sprawl of glass and wood—two girls waited. Jane Yoo, the older one, had light brownish hair, her mom's red eyes, and a bold, playful smirk. Her eyes locked on Dante like a dare.
Jenny Yoo, younger, was softer— black hair but shy, fidgeting with her sleeves.
Raikou hugged them both.
"Jane, Jenny—good to see you again. You've met me and Yor plenty, but these two? First-timers."
Jane sauntered over, hands on hips, sizing Dante up.
"So, you're Dante, huh? Heard you're the big shot of the family now. What's with that smug face—think you're some kinda prince?"
Dante grinned, stepping closer. "Nah, just the king. What's with you—jealous already?"
She laughed, sharp and loud. "Jealous? Of that haircut? Please—I've seen better on stray dogs."
"Funny," he shot back, leaning in, "'cause you're staring like I'm the best catch you've ever seen."
Jane's smirk widened, unfazed.
"Oh, I'm staring alright—to figure out how you fit all that ego in one head. Bet you trip over it daily."
"Only if you're there to catch me," he teased, voice dropping flirty-low.
"But you'd probably faint from the excitement first."
Her eyes sparked, mischief flaring.
"Catch you? I'd rather let you faceplant—give me a good laugh. What's next, gonna strut around like you own the place?"
"Only if you say 'pretty please' to join me," Dante fired, winking.
"Bet you'd beg for a front-row seat."
"Ha!" Jane barked, crossing her arms.
"In your wildest dreams, city boy. You're more likely to beg me for directions—you look lost already."
"Lost in your eyes, maybe," he quipped, a grin stretching wide. "But I'd find my way—probably faster than you'd admit you're into it."
She snorted, tossing her hair. "Into it? I'd rather wrestle Junbae over there—and he's got the brains of a brick."
"Low bar," Dante said, nodding toward Junbae. "I'd still win—smarter and prettier."
Jenny peeked from behind her sister, whispering,
"They're… ridiculous," while Raikou and Hyeonjung exchanged sweat-dropping glances. Mikasa hid a grin behind her sketchbook, Miss Sim adjusted her clipboard with a sigh.
Chief Secretary Oh grumbled, "Kids these days…"
The banter stretched a volley of jabs and laughs until Hyeonjung clapped her hands.
"Alright, you two—enough flirting for one night. Dinner's ready and then rooms are ready for the night."
Everyone scattered, Dante still smirking as Jane tossed a final,
"Don't trip on your crown, king," over her shoulder."
'Korea's gonna be a blast~' he thought, heading off to the dinning table.