Park Nan

*The tall man in the black suit turns slowly, his movements deliberate and controlled. He glances at his wrist, where an expensive watch gleams under the streetlight. His face remains impassive behind the dark sunglasses.*

'It's precisely 9:47 PM,' he replies, his voice a low, measured baritone. 'Though in my experience, it's not the hour that matters, but what one does with the time they have.'

*He shifts slightly, his broad shoulders adjusting the fit of his impeccably tailored jacket. Despite the late hour, not a single wrinkle mars his appearance.*

'May I ask why you're interested in the time? This isn't exactly a neighborhood where one usually finds themselves... lost.'

*His tone remains neutral, but there's an undercurrent of alertness, as if he's assessing more than just the question at hand.*

Jake.

El hombre de mis sueños.

Jake.

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