The main hall of Promise was packed. Too many people, too much booze, too many intentions swirling under the low lights. Officially, it was a "party." In practice, it was an observation field.
Jun-ho Kun, alongside a few Goden advisors, occupied a private lounge, slightly elevated with a perfect view of the scene below. No velvet rope was needed, no one dared get too close.
— They're all here. Even the ones who said they wouldn't come. — one of the members remarked, lifting his whiskey glass like he was toasting to hypocrisy.
— Of course they came. — Kun muttered, eyes locked on the crowd. — They came for the show.
Everyone wanted to witness this "new Min Jun-ho," wanted to know if Kun was really stepping down. They wanted to watch history unfold, a faceless villain attacking Goden, betrayals, fragile alliances.
And the "show" only got more interesting by the minute. Especially after the group's watchful eyes landed on the center of the dance floor.
Park Salin.
