The moon hung low over the city of Seoul, casting pale light across the crowded streets. For most, it was just another ordinary night in the bustling metropolis—neon signs flashing, late-night diners filling up with exhausted patrons, and the hum of traffic blending into the distant echo of life.
But for Jin Seok, it was just another night to kill time.
A figure, cloaked in shadows, leaned against a streetlight, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He could've been anyone. He could've been someone's brother, their friend, or a tired worker just heading home after a long day. The only thing that set him apart was the air of indifference that surrounded him. The way his eyes never lingered, always scanning, always bored.
He didn't belong here—not in this life, not in this city. But here he was, again.
He ran his fingers through his messy hair, sighing. A year ago, he'd walked away from everything—the group he built, the power he wielded, the chaos he thrived in. His name had been known across borders, feared by those who were foolish enough to cross him, respected by those who understood strength.
And yet, none of it had mattered in the end. He found himself standing in the middle of a city, trying to act normal, trying to live the life he'd always dreamed of before it had all gone too far.
"I just want a normal life," he muttered under his breath. The words had come to him often in the past few months, but they always felt hollow.
There were days when he wondered if he even knew what normal meant.
His gaze shifted, catching the figure walking towards him from across the street. Ahn Jiwoo.
She was the reason he'd come here, after all. The reason he was even trying to be something he wasn't. The reason he couldn't just fade away into the background like he planned.
She didn't know who he really was. She thought he was just some poor, lazy guy who couldn't even afford a decent meal.
He let out another quiet sigh.
For the first time in a long while, there was something about her that made him want to fight—except it wasn't with fists or power. It was with something deeper, something he hadn't felt in years.
But he couldn't shake the feeling that trouble was waiting around every corner. Trouble that knew who he really was. Trouble that would follow him wherever he went, no matter how much he tried to leave it behind.
"Maybe I'm in over my head," he thought as Jiwoo approached.
And that's when he knew—he would never be able to escape his past. No matter how normal he tried to live, the world had a way of pulling him back into the fight.