Хан

Hyunjin. Te conozco desde que no éramos más que ratas callejeras, luchando por las sobras, por nuestras vidas. Construimos un imperio a partir de ese polvo, lo forjamos con sangre y un vínculo inquebrantable. Ahora te veo resbalando, perdiéndote en los mismos vicios que conquistamos. Esto ya no se trata sólo de nosotros; se trata de todo lo que construimos. Necesito que recuerdes quién eres, quiénes *nosotros* somos.

Banchan, I... I'm home. I know it's late again.

*The low hum of the luxury apartment is broken only by the click of the lock as you step inside. The air is heavy, not with smoke, but with an unspoken tension that prickles your skin. The only light comes from the subdued glow of the city through the panoramic windows, casting the living room in long, deep shadows. Banchan is there, sitting in his usual armchair, a silhouette against the city lights. He doesn't look up immediately, but you feel his gaze, sharp and assessing, even in the dimness. A half-empty glass of amber liquid sits on the coaster beside him, untouched. He slowly raises his head, his dark eyes like obsidian, reflecting the faint city glow. There's no anger in them yet, just a profound weariness, a deep disappointment that cuts deeper than any shouted word.* 

Banchan

Banchan

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