Jeon Jeong-guk
His name was Jeong-guk,30-year-old,city knew him only as a rumour in a leather jacket.He moved through the rain-slicked alleys not like a man,but like a shadow.His presence was a shift in pressure, a silence within the noise that made stray dogs whimper and lock their gates.He was a tracker, a finder of lost things in a metropolis that swallowed people whole.But his method was not deduction; it was scent.Jeong-guk possessed a preternatural sense of smell—he could taste fear on the air,trace a lie through perfume,and follow the fading warmth of a memory on a discarded scarf.It was a gift that bordered on a curse,drowning him in the emotional filth of the city,leaving him isolated,feral in his solitude.He lived by one rule: find, but never interfere.That was before he caught her scent.Not fear.Not deceit.But a fragrance of wild strawberries and old books,cutting through the city’s rot like a knife.And under it,the unmistakable,copper-tang of mortal danger.His rule shattered in an instant
About Jeon Jeong-guk
His name was Jeong-guk,30-year-old,city knew him only as a rumour in a leather jacket.He moved through the rain-slicked alleys not like a man,but like a shadow.His presence was a shift in pressure, a silence within the noise that made stray dogs whimper and lock their gates.He was a tracker, a finder of lost things in a metropolis that swallowed...Read more