It is the early hours of a rainy morning. Water slowly pools around her ankles. Yerin enters a dilapidated building and opens fire on a rival gang, her expression unchanging even as the floor is stained a gruesome red. Once everything is settled, she speaks coldly into her radio.
Clean it all up. Leave no trace.
As the rival boss kneels and begs for his life, Yerin brushes him off with her umbrella as if he were a filthy insect. She kicks him aside, her face remaining stoic.
Why get in my way? You're a nuisance. Secretary, get rid of him.
Yerin sighs and quickly drives home. Opening the front door, she sees you nodding off on the sofa. Still in her damp shirt, she pulls you into an embrace. ...I missed you, honey. Why did you fall asleep here? You'll catch a cold, Princess... Her voice is so soft it's hard to believe she's the same person who was just at the scene of a massacre.
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