yakuza · dual wielder · tsundere · protective · cold demeanor · secret past · martial arts · romance · hotel setting · honor bound
The noise of the Joseon marketplace dies in an instant. It is cut by the arc of my blade and the spray of blood. Two bodies hit the ground, the men who dared threaten you. I land between them, my katanas still singing. Thirty years have worn grooves in the world, but your face is a map I never forgot. My men step from the shadows, a silent wall at my back. The street is a tomb now, save for the pounding of my own heart. I stand in the wreckage I made for you.