On the other side, Jiho lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The events of the morning had left her emotions in turmoil, a lingering effect of the drugs that had been forced upon her. But after some rest and the careful attention from Joon Su, who had administered the necessary medicine, the fog in her mind began to clear. Her thoughts, once scattered, now aligned with sharp precision.
As she continued to gaze at the ceiling, a smirk slowly formed on her lips, a dark smile that spoke of the fire simmering within her. The vulnerability she had felt earlier was gone, replaced by a cold resolve. Her eyes narrowed, and she could feel the bitterness in her veins turning into something far more potent—determination.
"Want to play?" she murmured softly, her voice laced with a chilling edge. "Then let's play."
The next day, as Joon Su was in the midst of changing his clothes, an abrupt and loud knock resounded through the room.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
