Ji Ah stirred, her senses awakening one at a time. The faint scent of clean cotton filled her nose, a sharp contrast to the damp, metallic tang of blood she last remembered.

Her hands felt around her, she was laying on something soft. A bed, she deduced in her foggy mind. Beneath her, the sheets were impossibly soft, like silk brushing against her skin.

She groaned, the pounding in her skull drowning out the faint hum of her surroundings. Her shoulder throbbed, a sharp ache radiating with every shallow breath.

Blinking against the dim, golden light, Ji Ah's eyes adjusted to her surroundings.

The bed she lay on was wide, framed by dark wood with sheets so dark and soft they seemed out of place in a nightmare like this. A small oak desk sat in the corner, its smooth surface unmarred except for a single gold lamp casting a warm glow. The room was simple yet elegant—bare walls, no windows, no signs of life beyond the confines of the space. The air was still and silent.

She shifted to sit up, hissing as pain flared through her shoulder. Glancing down, she noticed her damp suit was gone, replaced with a large grey T-shirt covered down to mid-thigh.

Her cheeks burned at the realization. Someone had changed her. Someone had seen her vulnerable.

She moved the collar down to inspect her shoulder, the pain demanding her attention. She could she see the white clean cotton of bandages, her fingers brushed the edges as the memories started to flood back.

The escape. Jun Ho. Gunfire. The Frontman. Darkness.

Ji Ah remembered it all now, her un injured shoulder lifting her hand to the back of her head, gingerly feeling the tender area where she was hit.

'Why didn't they kill me' she wondered, but at the same time glad to still be alive.

Taking stock of her situation, Ji Ah's eyes darted toward the only exit: a dark wooden door, its surface smooth and unassuming.

Summoning her strength, Ji Ah swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet meeting the cool floor. Each movement sent a wave of pain through her shoulder, but she pushed forward, teeth gritted.

Reaching the door, she wrapped her good hand around the handle and twisted. It didn't budge. Wiggling it a few times for good measure. Ji Ah cursed under her breath, slamming her palm against the solid wood. "Hello?" Her voice echoed faintly, swallowed by the stillness. "Is anyone out there?"

Nothing.

Her head fell forward, her forehead resting against the cool unyielding surface as exhaustion claimed her.

The ache in her shoulder grew unbearable, her legs trembling with the effort to stay upright.

She stumbled back toward the bed, collapsing onto the sheets with a pained gasp.

Her body felt heavy, as if the room itself was pressing down on her, suffocating and inescapable.

As her vision blurred, one thought kept gnawing at the edges of her mind: Why am I alive?

————————————

Flashes of masked faces, gunfire and Jun Ho plagued Ji Ah's dreams. The feeling of a cold leather glove clasp around her. No escape.

Ji Ah jolted awake, heart pounding as she shot upright in bed. Pain flared through her shoulder, stealing her breath and dragging her back to her harsh reality.

The faint golden glow of the lamp still illuminated the room, but something was different. The air was heavier, charged with an energy that made her skin crawl. Her instincts prickled, alerting her to the presence of someone else. Slowly, she scanned the room.

There, in the corner, he sat. The Frontman.

Ji Ah's breath hitched, her heart slamming against her ribs. The chair he occupied hadn't been there before, its sleek frame blending with the room's muted elegance.

He sat utterly still, his presence commanding the space as if it had always belonged to him. Though his mask revealed nothing, she could feel the anger radiating from him, suffocating in its intensity. His gloved hands rested on the arms of the chair, his posture a perfect balance of control and menace.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Their gazes locked, hers burning with defiance, his an impenetrable void.

"You are alive" His deep metallic sound of his voice, and cutting through the silence like a knife. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever wake"

Ji Ah not quite sure how to respond, opted not to.

Seemingly displeased with her silence he continued"You're a long way from home, detective" his head tilting slightly as if observing a curiosity. "Why are you here?"

Her heart stuttered. He knows who I am.

Ji Ah's lips pressed into a thin line. Her heart pounding as she willed herself to meet his gaze—or where his gaze might be behind the void of his mask. She was not going to be his plaything.

Instead, she straightened her spine and fired back, her voice laced with defiance. "What about Jun Ho? What did you do to him? And the players? What about them?"

The Frontman didn't flinch, his composure unshaken. "You ask many questions, but provide no answers of your own. A curious strategy for someone with no leverage." He answered, his voice both curious and condescending. "I'm more interested in why you thought you could infiltrate my world."

Ji Ah's jaw clenched. "Your world? Is that what this is? A world where people die for your entertainment?"

"Careful," he said smoothly, his tone cold yet laced with amusement. "You're in no position to throw accusations, little detective. Especially when you've yet to answer my questions."

Ji Ah stiffened at the mocking nickname. She didn't miss the way it rolled off his tongue, sharp yet almost... possessive. Forcing her expression to remain neutral even as her pulse quickened. Little detective. The words curled around her like a net, pulling her into a game she didn't want to play.

"I'm not playing your game," Ji Ah spat.

He sat forward slightly, the movement slow and deliberate. "Oh, but you already are. You've been playing since the moment you set foot on the island. The question is: do you even know the rules?"

Her chest tightened at his words, but she refused to let him see her fear. "If this is a game, then tell me—why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?"

He didn't answer immediately, letting the silence stretch between them. Then, almost as if savoring the moment, he said, "You tell me. You've already proven resourceful. Clever. Unyielding. Qualities I value... when properly controlled."

Her breath caught at the implication, but she refused to let him rattle her. "You talk like you know me," she said, her voice laced with defiance. "But you don't."

The Frontman chuckled softly, the sound low and unsettling. "Don't I? You risked everything to save someone you care about. You inserted yourself into a situation far beyond your control. And yet, here you are—alive, defiant, and still foolish enough to challenge me."

Ji Ah's fists clenched at her sides. "I'd rather be foolish than a coward hiding behind a mask."

The room seemed to grow colder, the tension thick enough to choke. The Frontman stood slowly, his imposing figure towering over her as he took a deliberate step forward. "Careful, little detective," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You're walking a fine line."

"And what happens if I cross it?" she shot back, rising to her feet despite the searing pain in her shoulder. "Will you kill me then? Or do you enjoy keeping me alive so you can feel superior?"

He stopped just a few feet from her, his presence overwhelming. "I enjoy control," he said simply, His gloved hand rose, the gesture slow, deliberate. Ji Ah froze as the tips of his fingers skimmed the curve of her cheek, the cool leather a stark contrast to the heat flushing her skin.

"And right now, you're under mine." he murmured, his voice a dark caress.

The touch was brief, almost calculated, yet it lingered like a brand. Ji Ah swallowed hard, fighting the urge to recoil—or to lean in, though she couldn't decide which instinct was stronger. Acutely aware of her maskless face for the first time. Ji Ah swallowed hard, her pulse roaring in her ears. "You can't control me," she said, her voice trembling but firm. "Not the way you control them."

The Frontman leaned in, his masked face inches from hers. "Oh, little detective," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. "You've only just begun to understand the rules."

With that, he stepped back, his coat swaying slightly with the motion "Everyone is here by my design. Everyone lives here under my rule. I don't know how you got here, but you cannot leave without my permission," he said, his voice carrying an edge that sent a shiver down her spine.

Before she could respond, he turned and strode toward the door. The click of the lock echoed in the silence as he left, leaving Ji Ah alone with her pounding heart and the weight of his words.

Ji Ah stood frozen, her heart pounding in her ears. The room seemed even quieter now, the emptiness suffocating. She sank back into the bed, her mind racing with questions and no answers.

How long would she be trapped here?