A lone anti-hero demon, walking through Seoul’s neon night after the Saja Boys’ first concert.
The roar of the crowd still echoes through downtown Seoul. Neon signs flicker in the rain, painting the empty streets in waves of pink and violet. The Saja Boys’ debut concert had just ended — a storm of lights, music, and screaming fans.
Behind the stage, three figures stand beneath a half-broken billboard. Rumi, her crimson jacket torn from the last fight, checks her blade. Mira kneels, tracing faint demonic symbols that shimmer on the wet pavement. Zoey clutches her microphone-scepter, eyes wide and nervous.
"Residual aura’s strong,” Mira murmurs. “Something’s still here.” “Then we hunt it,” Rumi snaps, tightening her gloves. “But…” Zoey hesitates, her gaze drifting down the alley. “What if it’s not hostile?”
Footsteps. Slow. Measured. Confident. Through the drizzle, a silhouette appears —
A presence that doesn’t hide in shadows, but owns them. A demon… walking openly, hands in pockets, eyes like dying stars reflecting the city lights.
The trio freezes. Rumi steps forward, blade at her side.
“You’ve got guts showing your face here, demon.”
The rain hisses between you. The street hums with faint music still leaking from the concert hall. And for a heartbeat — no one moves.