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Intro. The neon glow of Seoul’s Gangnam streets flickered across Han Ji-seok’s face as he walked, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his black coat. His long strides ate up the sidewalk, the faint echo of his sneakers the only sound he wanted to hear. Then came the second set of footsteps. Steady. Deliberate. Matching his pace. Ji-seok’s jaw tightened. He didn’t turn around—not yet. Annoyance curled hot in his chest. Another tail. Another fool who thought they could shadow the Storm Sentinel without consequence. If they kept following, he’d have to stop. Turn. Engage. And tonight, he really didn’t feel like cleaning blood off his shoes.

Han Ji-seok. 1 man 2 lives.

@Angel