The living room was a cocoon of soft light, the warm amber of a table lamp casting a gentle glow over the plush couch.

The air was filled with the faint aroma of buttered popcorn as Y/n padded into the room, balancing a bowl in her hands. Her mismatched socks whispered against the wooden floor, a playful testament to her vibrant personality.

Jun-ho sat on the couch, scrolling through an endless list of movies, his brow furrowed in mock concentration.

"Move, you're on my side of the couch," Y/n said with a playful frown, her voice tinged with feigned annoyance.

Jun-ho smirked, tilting his head to look up at her. "How is this your side of the couch? I picked this couch!"

"It just is," she replied with a huff, standing her ground. "So will you move?"

Jun-ho's grin widened, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Nope," he said, popping the "p" for emphasis.

Y/n narrowed her eyes but stepped closer, a sly grin curving her lips. "Alright, fine," she said, her voice low and teasing as she approached.

Jun-ho's gaze followed her, his breath hitching slightly as she leaned forward.

"You know you basically asked for this," Y/n murmured, settling herself gracefully onto his lap.

Jun-ho shook his head, his chuckle soft and full of affection. "Who said I was complaining?"

Her laughter spilled out, a melody that wrapped around him like a warm embrace. He couldn't help but stare, his heart swelling at the sight of her joy.

"What are you looking at?" Y/n asked, her cheeks tinged pink under his intense gaze.

"Your laugh," Jun-ho began, his voice quieter now.

Y/n rolled her eyes, trying to deflect the moment. "It sounds like a dying whale with hiccups–"

"Well, that's awkward," Jun-ho interrupted, his tone casual yet laced with sincerity.

Y/n tilted her head, confusion flickering across her face. "What?"

"Weird thing to say when someone asks me to describe my favorite sound," he replied, turning back to the TV as if he hadn't just stolen her breath.

Y/n blinked, speechless, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.

"So," Jun-ho said, breaking the silence with an air of nonchalance, "what are we watching?"

Y/n shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. How did he always manage to leave her completely undone?

The movie played on, its flickering light dancing across the room as the pair slowly shifted closer.

Y/n's head rested on Jun-ho's shoulder, the soft fabric of the blanket draped over both of them. Jun-ho's arm had found its way around her waist, holding her snugly as if to ensure she wouldn't drift away.

As the film reached a quiet moment, Y/n felt Jun-ho's breathing slow, his head tipping gently against hers. A soft snore broke the serene silence.

She glanced at him, her expression a mix of fondness and exasperation. "Jun-ho," she whispered, but he didn't stir.

Another snore, louder this time, buzzed in her ear. With a dramatic sigh, she grabbed a nearby pillow and smacked him lightly.

"Get up! You're snoring, and I can't hear the movie," she complained, her tone laced with mock frustration.

Jun-ho mumbled sleepily, pulling her closer. "Then turn it up..."

Y/n wriggled in his hold, but his grip tightened around her waist, his warmth anchoring her in place.

"So you can yell at me for waking you up? No!"

"You're waking me up anyway," he retorted, his voice muffled but teasing.

Defeated, Y/n turned off the TV with a resigned sigh and shifted to face him. Jun-ho, his eyes still closed, greeted her with a sleepy smile that melted her irritation.

She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, her touch gentle. Leaning in, she kissed his nose, her lips brushing against his skin like a feather.

Jun-ho sighed contentedly, his arms wrapping around her as they settled into the quiet. The world outside fell away, leaving only the soft rhythm of their breaths and the steady beat of their hearts, perfectly in sync.

Eventually, sleep claimed them both, tangled together in the cozy embrace of love and warmth.

___________________

The city lights shimmered like scattered stars on the wet asphalt as the taxi wove through the labyrinth of bustling streets. Inside, Mr. Kim leaned forward, barking instructions at the driver while Woo-seok sat beside him, nervously clutching his phone.

"Look, he's getting out," Woo-seok said, his voice tight with urgency.

"He just got out," Mr. Kim echoed, quickly relaying the information to Gi-hun over the phone. "I'll send you the address. Call me when you get here."

The car rolled to a halt, and Woo-seok leaned toward the driver. "You can drop us off here."

The two men exited hastily, their breaths visible in the cold night air.

Woo-seok glanced around nervously. "Where the hell is Seong?"

"He'll be here in ten," Mr. Kim replied, his gaze locked on the recruiter disappearing down a dimly lit alley. "Shit. Hey, if we wait too long, we'll lose this guy."

Woo-seok shifted uncomfortably, glancing down the alley. "Huh?"

"I say you and I just take him," Mr. Kim suggested, a determined glint in his eye.

"What, alone?"

"Yeah. What, you scared? It's two against one. You too chicken now that you're married, huh?"

Woo-seok's face flushed with irritation. "It's not that. It's just... this guy. He seems really off. And Seong told us to wait until he got here."

Mr. Kim turned to him sharply. "And what if we lose him and don't get the bonus? What then? Woo-seok, it's a billion fucking won!"

Woo-seok hesitated, his hand brushing the wedding band on his finger. "Wait. We'll still split it, though?"

Mr. Kim let out an exasperated laugh. "You think I'd screw you over? I officiated your wedding, for Christ's sake. Come on."

Without waiting for an answer, Mr. Kim grabbed Woo-seok's arm, pulling him toward the alley where the recruiter had vanished.

The alleyway was silent save for the distant hum of traffic and the faint patter of footsteps on the damp pavement.

The recruiter walked with calculated ease, his movements fluid, his sharp silhouette cutting through the faint mist. He paused for a moment, a smirk curling his lips as he heard the hurried footsteps closing in.

"Hey, you! Stop!" Woo-seok yelled, his voice echoing against the narrow walls.

"Got you, bastard!" Mr. Kim bellowed as he lunged forward, grabbing the recruiter's arm.

But the recruiter moved like water—quick, fluid, and unyielding. His fist flew with precision, landing a direct punch that sent Mr. Kim sprawling to the ground.

"Boss! Boss!" Woo-seok cried, rushing to his fallen comrade before turning to face their opponent. "All right. Come on. Go ahead, asshole!"

The recruiter's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with a quiet menace. He stepped forward, his movements deliberate and calm, as though this were just another chore.

Woo-seok squared his shoulders, but his nerves betrayed him as his fists shook.

It didn't take long.

The recruiter was a storm, precise and unrelenting. Woo-seok barely had time to react before he was thrown off balance, his body hitting the cold ground with a thud.

The recruiter straightened his jacket, his smirk now a faint shadow on his face. He glanced down at the two sprawled figures, shaking his head as though amused by their audacity, before grabbing them and slipping away into the shadows once more, leaving no trace of his presence save for the faint echo of his footsteps.

_________

The evening sky was painted in shades of deep indigo, stars shyly peeking through the veil of clouds.

Inside his small, cluttered apartment, Jun-ho sat hunched over his laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the determined lines of his face.

His fingers danced across the keyboard, every click echoing in the stillness of the room. His eyes, sharp and focused, scanned the results:

SEONG GI-HUN
VEHICLE REGISTRATION SEARCH 29H 2071
ISAAC CAR RENTALS
DONGDAEMUN-GU, SEOUL

Jun-ho leaned back for a moment, running a hand through his hair before quickly grabbing his coat and car keys.

Just as he reached the door, Y/n stepped in, her expression thoughtful but tinged with something unreadable.

Her gaze met his, her brow arching slightly. "Where are you going?"

"I think I found a place where Gi-hun is renting his car. That could lead somewhere," Jun-ho replied, his tone steady but his mind already racing ahead.

"Okay, I'm coming," Y/n said decisively.

"Y/n..." Jun-ho hesitated, his concern evident in his voice. "I don't know if—"

"Don't even start with me right now," Y/n interrupted, her voice cracking slightly. "Let's go."

Jun-ho's lips parted as if to protest, but he saw something in her eyes that made him stop—a quiet storm, unresolved and brewing. He nodded, following her out the door into the cool night air.

The car hummed softly as it cut through the silent streets, streetlights casting fleeting golden halos on their faces. Jun-ho stole glances at Y/n from the corner of his eye.

She sat stiffly, staring straight ahead, her fingers fidgeting in her lap.

He noticed everything—the way her fingers picked at each other nervously, the faint crease between her brows, the way her breath seemed uneven as if holding back tears. Her hair caught the light in delicate strands, and her lips, though pressed into a firm line, trembled slightly at the corners.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"Okay, I can't keep acting like I don't see that something is wrong with you."

Y/n hesitated, her hands falling still. She exhaled shakily.

"It's Appa," she admitted, dropping her head into her hands. "He was saying things today that made it seem like—like he was sick or dying or something. He kept trying to tell me where the important papers for the house were, and then he left in such a hurry. He told me to be careful. That the next time I saw him, he might not be the same. I don't understand what's going on—" Her voice broke as she choked on a sob.

Jun-ho's heart clenched.

Without thinking, he reached out, his hand gentle on hers.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice warm and steady. "This is not your fault, Y/n. Your father is the strongest, most resilient man I know. He's going to be okay."

Y/n shook her head, her voice trembling. "How did I not know, Jun? How did I miss the signs? I don't miss things like this."

She covered her face, her shoulders trembling.

Jun-ho pulled the car to the side of the road, turning to face her fully.

"Y/n," he said firmly, his voice laced with tenderness. "You're not a mind reader. You couldn't have known unless he told you. And you're not alone in this. Whatever happens, I'm here. We'll get through this together, okay?"

She lifted her gaze to him, tears glistening in her eyes. "You mean it?"

"With everything I am," Jun-ho replied, his hand squeezing hers gently.

Her lips quirked into a small, bittersweet smile as she wiped at her eyes. "Thank you, Jun. I needed to hear that."

He nodded, giving her a moment before he started the car again, their silence now filled with unspoken understanding.

The couple finally arrived at the car rental office. The faint scent of oil and metal lingered in the air as they approached the counter.

"Uh, plate 2071. Let's see here," the car salesman said, clicking through his system. "Looks like a company is currently renting it."

"A company?" Jun-ho pressed, his voice edged with urgency. "Which one?"

"Uh... Um, it's Sunshine Capital," the salesman said, glancing up nervously.

"What's the address of the company?" Jun-ho asked, his voice firm as his eyes met Y/n's.

Y/n gave a subtle nod, the determination in her expression mirroring his own.

The salesman scribbled the address on a slip of paper and handed it over. Jun-ho took it, gripping it tightly.

As they stepped back into the night, the weight of the unknown hung between them.

__________

In a dark, windowless room suffused with shadows that seemed to breathe, the recruiter stood tall, his grin a sinister crescent against the dim glow of a single overhead light.

Opposite him, Woo-seok and Mr. Kim sat trembling, their hands clenching the edges of their chairs as if they could anchor themselves to life.

The recruiter tilted his head, the playful malevolence in his voice as sharp as a blade.

"The two of you like games, right?" he asked, his tone lilting, almost gentle—like a predator coaxing its prey closer. "We're going to play a little game. Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One. You know it?"

Woo-seok's breath hitched, his chest heaving with fear.

The recruiter chuckled softly, the sound curling through the room like smoke. "Two-handed Rock, Paper, Scissors. Take one hand back. If the one you keep beats theirs, you win."

He leaned forward, his shadow sprawling across the table, dark and consuming.

"But if you lose..." He paused, savoring the silence, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. "Well, you've seen this in the movies. Russian Roulette."

He picked up a revolver, its dull gleam a promise of despair, and loaded a single bullet.

With a deliberate click, he spun the chamber and aimed the gun at an empty chair, pulling the trigger. The hollow click reverberated through the room, louder than any scream.

"Your odds are one in six," he continued with a grin that didn't reach his eyes.

"Survival odds are five in six. Pretty good, right?"

Woo-seok whimpered, his hands trembling like leaves caught in a storm.

"Great," the recruiter said cheerfully, as though announcing the start of a harmless board game. "Let's begin. Hands out on my count."

The men exchanged wide-eyed glances, their breath shallow and quick.

"Rock... paper... scissors!"

Woo-seok froze, his hands motionless.

"Mr. Choi, you didn't play anything," the recruiter observed, his tone sing-song. "Disqualified."

Before Woo-seok could react, the recruiter raised the revolver and pressed it against his temple. The two men screamed, their voices a symphony of desperation, as the recruiter pulled the trigger.

Click.

The silence that followed was deafening, a vacuum where fear fed on itself.

The recruiter smiled benignly. "See? No need to panic. Let's play again."

The game continued, each round an agonizing repetition of terror. The recruiter's grin never wavered, his patience unnerving.

When the men showed signs of relief after another empty chamber, the recruiter sighed.

"Getting boring, isn't it?" He opened the revolver, his movements unhurried. "Let's make it more interesting."

He loaded more bullets, each one a nail in their coffin.

"Your odds of survival are now one in six," he announced, then paused, his smile widening. "Actually, let's reverse that. Five in six odds of death. Much more thrilling."

"No, please," Mr. Kim begged, his voice cracking.

The recruiter ignored him, spinning the chamber with a dramatic flourish. The metallic click echoed like a death knell.

"Ready?"

The game resumed, the tension a vice squeezing the air from the room. The men's hands shook so violently they could barely play. When tie after tie prolonged their torment, the recruiter's amusement grew.

Finally, Woo-seok hesitated, his eyes flicking between the hands. He drew one back, trembling.

"Mr. Kim," the recruiter said with mock disappointment, "you didn't take a hand back. Disqualified."

Mr. Kim's scream ripped through the room as the recruiter raised the revolver. This time, the trigger didn't click—it roared. Blood sprayed across the table, painting the walls with finality. Mr. Kim slumped forward, lifeless.

Woo-seok's screams continued, his voice raw and broken.

The recruiter knelt by Mr. Kim's body, inspecting his work with clinical detachment. Satisfied, he straightened and turned to Woo-seok, his grin now a razor-sharp blade.

"Congratulations," he said smoothly, pulling up a chair and sitting across from the trembling man. "You've won. Now that it's just the two of us... shall we have a little chat?"

Woo-seok whimpered, his tears streaking down his face, but he knew there was no escape. The recruiter leaned forward, his gaze piercing, and began to speak, his voice as cold and inevitable as death itself.

__________

The night wrapped itself around Sunshine Capital like a shroud, its silence heavy and foreboding.

Jun-ho and Y/n stood side by side, their breaths mingling in the cool air as they took in the desolate landscape. Shadows stretched long and deep across the ground, and the building loomed ahead, its facade cracked with the weight of secrets.

Jun-ho cast a glance at Y/n, her windswept hair catching the faint moonlight. For a brief moment, he forgot the peril ahead and saw only her—the determined curve of her lips, the way her eyes held a fire that never dimmed.

"Stay close," he whispered, his voice soft yet commanding.

They crept forward, their footsteps almost silent against the ground. The door to the building stood resolute, locked against their entry.

Jun-ho tested it once, twice, and then stepped back, craning his neck to study the facade above.

"Looks like I'm climbing," he muttered, already gripping the rough wall.

"Not alone," Y/n said firmly, stepping up to follow him.

Jun-ho turned, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Stay here," he said, his tone low but insistent.

Y/n folded her arms, her defiance written in every line of her posture.

"We don't know what's up there," Jun-ho said, one hand clinging to the wall while the other gestured to the unknown above.

Y/n watched him, her heart skipping a beat. The strength in his voice, the quiet determination in his movements—it made her chest ache.

"Stay here and keep watch," he repeated. His gaze softened, and he added, almost pleading, "Please."

Y/n sighed, her resolve wavering under his earnestness.

"Fine," she relented, stepping back.

Jun-ho's lips curved in the faintest smile before he resumed his climb, scaling the wall with a grace that made Y/n's breath catch. She watched him go, her hands clenched at her sides, silently willing him to be safe.

The sound of footsteps broke her reverie.

"Man coming inside," Y/n called up, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jun-ho froze, melding into the shadows as a thug approached the front of the building.

"That's what I said! The boss still isn't back," the man grumbled, his voice rough and impatient. He stomped up the stairs, muttering into his phone.

"I heard from Mr. Seong. He said the boss and Woo-seok were tailing that ddakji guy when he lost contact with them. Motherfucker, how would I know? Anyway, listen to me. Get everyone and go to Daebang Station. I'll grab some weapons and meet you there."

From his vantage point, Jun-ho watched the thug rifle through a drawer, pulling out an assortment of weapons. He pressed himself against the wall, hidden behind a strange, hulking figure that seemed to resemble the recruiter. It looked weirdly like Chan-yeol.

"No, Daebang Station! Not Sindaebang! It's Daebang! God damn it!" The thug's frustration echoed through the empty halls. "How many times do I have to repeat myself? Just call everyone now. Fucking dumbass."

With that, the thug slammed the drawer shut and retreated, his heavy footsteps fading as he exited the building.

The lock beeped softly in the silence that followed.

Jun-ho waited a moment longer, then moved swiftly, his search meticulous. Papers, receipts, and contracts spilled before him like pieces of a puzzle. His fingers stopped on a slip of paper, the words scrawled across it in uneven handwriting:

IOU
SEON GI-HUN
VEHICLE RENTAL CONTRACT
CERTIFICATE OF BUSINESS REGISTRATION
PINK MOTEL

"Pink Motel," Jun-ho whispered to himself, the words carrying both relief and determination. He tucked the paper away, his mind already racing to his next destination.

Y/n paced beneath the cover of shadows, her arms wrapped around herself. She glanced up at the faint silhouette of Jun-ho against the night sky, her heart a mix of worry and admiration.

She thought of her father, Chan-yeol, and how he would have grinned at Jun-ho's determination.

"A good man protects what matters," he would say, his deep, comforting voice a balm against any storm.

The thought brought a fleeting smile to her lips, even as her worry remained. When her Jun-ho finally reappeared, his movements swift and silent, she stepped forward, her eyes searching his face.

"What did you find?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

"Enough," he replied, his tone resolute. He hesitated, then reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You were right to stay."

"Let's go," Jun-ho said softly, his fingers lingering just a second longer before he pulled away.