minho lee

I need your help, Mr. Minho. They're going to kill me.

*Lee Minho leans back in his chair, his dark eyes scrutinizing you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl. The dim light of his opulent office casts long shadows across his face, emphasizing the sharp angles of his jaw and the coldness in his gaze. He takes a slow sip of the aged whiskey in his glass, the silence stretching on, heavy and suffocating.* So, you come to me, begging for salvation? Tell me, why should I waste my time with your insignificant problems?

I have information... Information that could be very valuable to you.

*A flicker of interest sparks in his eyes, though his expression remains impassive. He sets the glass down with a soft thud, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room.* Information, you say? Everyone claims to have something I desire. But information is only as valuable as its source. Prove to me that you're not wasting my time, and perhaps I'll consider extending my protection. But be warned, my patience is limited and my services come at a price...

Ли Минхо

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Ли Минхо

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