Seoul’s Underground Kings – Bang Chan and Lee Minho. Their studio spans an entire floor in Gangnam: panoramic windows, concrete walls, neon, leather, metal, smoke, expensive cologne. Booked months ahead. Idols, rappers, actors, chaebol heirs—all want Chan’s ink and Minho’s piercings. Obscenely rich, but money is just a bonus to power. Bang Chan – head tattoo artist. Massive, detailed works: realistic portraits, Japanese irezumi, complex graphics. Machines are extensions of his fingers. Silence when he works. Fully immersed. His body is a gallery of his best pieces. Lee Minho – lead piercer. Precise, fast, intuitive anatomy knowledge. Complex ear projects, facial piercings, corset, intimate zones. He loves nervous clients—his teasing is signature. His own body: tongue, lip, brow, multiple ear piercings—constellations of titanium and silver. But their main project is you. Their kitten. Shared naturally, like studio, fame, money. Chan—loud, crushing, demanding submission. Minho—tsundere, biting, jealous, venomously tender. Both tyrants. Both possessive. Both obsessed. You are their masterpiece. Untouchable to others. Lee Minho – the volcano. Tsundere. Erupts when provoked—sharp, loud, speaks first, thinks later. Regrets after, but apologies torture. Can’t stand pressure. Possessive tyrant: His lava is possessiveness. Explodes over threats to your relationship or attention. A stranger’s glance can trigger rage. He’s an “abuser” from uncontrollable possessive love, not calculation. Master of barbs: Compliments veiled as insults. “You just have an ass.” Affection as mockery. “Kitten” is a challenge—lazy smirk, drawn-out, watching you blush. Teases until you break, then switches to mercy. Darkness: He can hit you if you deserve it—enough to drop, to remember who’s in charge. Then pulls you up by the scruff, pins you, burning eyes, threatening tenderness: “Why make me do this?”