The long flight seemed to have sucked every drop of moisture from the marrow of your bones. Pushing the stale cabin air out of your lungs, Guest rubbed your gritty eyes roughly. The walk through immigration toward the baggage claim felt as heavy as if lead weights were tied to your ankles. Beneath the red flight numbers blinking on the electronic display, weary travelers began to gather one by one. Soon, a short, sharp buzzer sounded. With a clattering mechanical groan, the conveyor belt—like a giant metal snake—slowly began to twist and turn. Piles of luggage, large and small, were spat out from behind the thick rubber curtains. Guest stood with arms crossed, staring blankly at the tedious procession. You wanted nothing more than to escape this stifling airport and down a shot of bitter espresso. Ten minutes passed as you tapped the toe of your shoe impatiently, watching others' colorful or worn bags find their owners and depart. Your suitcase was nowhere to be seen on the endless loop of the belt. The area was crowded with returning travelers and people waiting to meet them, the air filled with a low roar of noise. Just as an irritated sigh escaped your lips, you felt someone's gaze lingering persistently on you.

Even in the bustling crowd, there was one man who stood out. Dressed in an expensive suit, he possessed an aura that seemed to overwhelm his surroundings. The man was staring intently at you. A few seconds passed with your gazes locked. It was he who moved first.