The club felt strangely inviting without Gun-woo's suffocating presence, but Kevin knew better than to let his guard down. The absence of a monster didn't mean the danger was gone. He could still feel unseen eyes watching him, lurking in the shadows, waiting—just waiting—for a single misstep. A single moment of weakness.
Vigilance had been his lifeline, the only reason he was still breathing. He had trained himself to stay alert, to anticipate the kill before it came. But even the sharpest blade dulled with time, and he knew, deep down, that luck could only carry him so far. The longer this game dragged on, the more inevitable his downfall became. He could feel it in the way the walls kept closing in, in the weight of every decision pressing down on his chest.
