The Han-Sung grand hall was a sweltering, golden insult to the freezing world outside.

  While the streets of Seoul shivered under an unnatural -15°C wind chill, buried beneath frozen grit and sludge, the grand hall was a tropical paradise. Imported lilies bloomed in crystal vases, their scent heavy and cloying. The air was thick with roasted duck, expensive perfume… and desperation.

  Do-Hyun stood at the edge of the crowd, adjusting the cuffs of his tuxedo.

  [System Note: Look at them. Cranking the thermostat up to 'Denial'. They think if they sweat enough, the monsters outside will melt. Cute.]

  He ignored the floating text and scanned the room.

  The elite were all here — tech CEOs, old-money matriarchs, high-ranking military officials. They laughed and clinked champagne glasses, pretending with desperate smiles that the "gas leaks" swallowing entire city blocks were nothing more than a rumor.

  "Do-Hyun? Is that really you?"

  He turned.

  Isabella Han stood before him.

  Like always, she looked untouchable — a goddess carved of ice and sunlight. Her shimmering silver dress hugged her form and flickered with every chandelier glint, as if she wore light itself. But her grip on her clutch was tight enough to blanch her knuckles.

  As she stepped closer, Do-Hyun felt the pull of the Ring of the Shadowed Sun against his finger, a cold thrum settling low in his veins. Isabella's eyes — bright, golden — widened, shock and something unspoken flickering across her gaze. The invisible thread between them tensed.

  "You look…healthy," she whispered, close enough that only he could hear. Her eyes flicked to the ring, then back to his face. "And you're wearing it."

  "It suits me," Do-Hyun said, voice smooth.

  "My father is watching," she warned, plastering a practiced smile on for the cameras. "He's already talking to Chairman Kang about speeding up the merger. They're scared, Do-Hyun. They know the 'gas leaks' are spreading toward the residential districts in Gangnam."

  "Let them be scared," Do-Hyun replied. "Where is General Bak?"

  Isabella blinked, taken off-guard by the shift in focus. "General Bak? He's in the VIP lounge, West Wing. Why?"

  "I need to borrow something from him."

  Before she could ask more, a heavy hand landed on Do-Hyun's shoulder.

  "Do-Hyun! I see you've found your fiancée."

  Do-Hyun turned to see his father, Kang Dae-Ho, flanked by Chairman Han, Isabella's father.

  "Chairman," Do-Hyun greeted with a slight bow.

  Chairman Han looked Do-Hyun up and down with a mixture of pity and calculation. "It's good to see you on your feet, boy. Though I hear you've been spending time in... alleyways? A bit dangerous for someone of your constitution, isn't it?"

  The jab was subtle, but the threat was clear. We are watching you.

  "I find the fresh air invigorating," Do-Hyun replied calmly.

  [System Note: 'Fresh air'? You mean the smell of rat guts and ozone? You're a natural politician, Host.]

  Do-Hyun waited for the elders to drift into a conversation about falling stock prices. He caught Isabella's eye.

  "Dance with me," he said.

  "What?"

  "If we're being watched, we should give them a show."

  He took her hand and led her onto the floor. As the orchestra swelled, he pulled her close.

  "I'm going to disappear for ten minutes," he murmured near her ear. "If anyone asks, tell them I went to use my inhaler… or needed somewhere quiet to sit. My weak constitution is a very useful excuse, don't you think?"

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  Isabella's grip tightened on his shoulder. "Bak is guarded by three private contractors. They aren't normal security, Do-Hyun. They're… different."

  "I know," Do-Hyun whispered. "They're Awakeners."

  He stepped back, ending the dance with a polite bow. As a waiter passed by with a tray of drinks, Do-Hyun moved into the waiter's shadow.

  Shadow Camouflage.

  To the guests, it looked like Do-Hyun simply walked behind a decorative pillar toward the restrooms. But he never came out the other side.

  The West Wing Hallway.

  The noise of the party faded, replaced by the low buzz of the ventilation system.

  Do-Hyun moved through the shadows of the corridor. The Ring of the Shadowed Sun was active, wrapping him in a layer of low-grade stealth. He felt weightless, his footsteps making no sound on the plush carpet.

  At the end of the hall, two men in black suits stood in front of a heavy oak door, guarding like their lives depended on it.

  Do-Hyun stopped in the darkness, twenty feet away.

  [Analysis: Hostile Targets.]

  [Target A: Awakener (Physical Enhancement). Grade F.]

  [Target B: Awakener (Sensory Enhancement). Grade F.]

  "Weak," Do-Hyun murmured.

  He flicked his wrist. A small shadow detached from his own silhouette and slithered across the floor like a snake. It moved fast, blending into the patterns of the carpet.

  The sensory guard frowned. "Did you hear that?"

  "Hear what?" the other grunted.

  The shadow reached the first guard's feet.

  Shadow Bind.

  Black tendrils shot up from the floor, wrapping around the guard's ankles and climbing toward his throat. He tried to shout, but the shadows closed in, silencing him. His body went slack, eyes rolling back as he collapsed without a sound.

  The second guard turned, his hand reaching for his earpiece. "Sector 4, we have a—"

  Do-Hyun was already there. He stepped out of stealth right in front of the man.

  The guard's eyes widened at the pale, sickly-looking rich kid in a tuxedo. He froze for just a fraction of a second.

  That was enough.

  A fist struck the man's solar plexus, powered by thirteen Strength and the momentum of a shadow step.

  Thud.

  The guard folded like a lawn chair. Do-Hyun caught him before he hit the ground and lowered him gently.

  [Stealth Check: Passed.]

  Do-Hyun straightened his bowtie and stepped over the bodies, opening the oak door.

  Inside, the VIP lounge reeked of expensive cigars and aged whiskey.

  General Bak stood by the window, back to the door, speaking into a secure satellite phone.

  "…I don't care about the casualties, Lieutenant. Seal the subway entrance with concrete if you have to. If the public finds out there are giant spiders in the metro, the stock market will—"

  The click of the door cut him off.

  "I said no interruptions," Bak barked, spinning around.

  He froze. Not his guards, but Kang Do-Hyun stood before him — the trash of the Shin-Hwa Group.

  Bak ended the call, eyes narrowing.

  "The Kang boy," he growled, voice dropping an octave. "You're supposed to be in the grand hall, barely standing."

  "I got lost," Do-Hyun said, walking toward the desk in the center of the room. "And your guards seem to be sleeping on the job. Hard to find good help these days."

  Bak sneered.

  "You think you're funny? Get out before I have you thrown out the window."

  His hand drifted toward his belt.

  [Alert: Hostile Mana Detected.]

  [Subject: General Bak.]

  [Class: Earth Mage (Low Tier).]

  The air in the room thickened. Whiskey in the crystal decanter rippled as if alive.

  "I need your keycard, General," Do-Hyun said calmly. "The one for Sector 4."

  Bak laughed—a harsh, barking sound.

  "You want to go into the Quarantine Zone? You?"

  He slammed his hand on the desk.

  Rumble.

  Floor tiles beneath Do-Hyun erupted: Stone spikes shot skyward, aiming to skewer him—blindingly fast, even for a human.

  Do-Hyun didn't flinch.

  Shadow Step.

  He vanished. The spikes pierced nothing but air.

  "What—" Bak gasped, looking around wildly.

  "Too slow."

  The voice came from right beside his ear.

  Bak spun around, his fist glowing with rocky armor, swinging for Do-Hyun's head.

  Do-Hyun caught the fist with one hand.

  Crack.

  The stone armor crumbled into dust under Do-Hyun's grip.

  Bak's eyes bulged. He tried to pull away, but Do-Hyun's grip was like an iron vice.

  "You..." Bak stammered, staring into Do-Hyun's violet eyes. "What are you?"

  "A concerned citizen," Do-Hyun whispered, pressing harder.

  Bak groaned, knees buckling.

  With his free hand, Do-Hyun reached into the General's inner jacket pocket and pulled out a heavy black magnetic card, its red stripe gleaming.

  [Item Acquired: Sector 4 Master Access Card.]

  Do-Hyun released him.

  Bak staggered back, clutching his mangled hand, terror spilling across his face. His lips parted, breath hitching—ready to scream for backup.

  "I wouldn't," Do-Hyun said quietly.

  One finger rose: A thin shard of shadow formed at the tip, spinning lazily, sharp enough to make the air feel colder.

  "Make a sound," Do-Hyun murmured, "and this gets ugly."

  Bak snapped his mouth shut, sweat already pouring as the arrogance drained from his face.

  "Who..." Bak whispered. "Who do you work for? The Association? The Americans?"

  Do-Hyun pocketed the card and turned to the door.

  "I work for myself," Do-Hyun said. "Enjoy the party, General. Try the duck. It's delicious."

  He slipped out the door.

  [Quest Complete: 'The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing'.]

  [Reward: Access to Sector 4.]

  [Bonus: You terrified a General. That was fun.]

  Do-Hyun glanced at his watch. Seven minutes had passed.

  The hallway stretched ahead as he headed back, stepping over the unconscious guards without slowing. Returning to the grand hall before the waltz ended was essential—before anyone noticed his absence or started asking questions.

  A Dungeon waited for him tonight, and he couldn't afford to be without an alibi.