On a night when a dry rain taps eerily against the windows, a profound silence settles over the marble table dominating the top floor of the headquarters.

Led by the absolute ruler lurking on the flip side of the world, the heads of the ruling class—each burdened with cruel power and secret missions—fill every single seat.

In a space where pitch-black darkness and chilly silence intersect, the toxic and suppressed aura they exude presses down on the air with heavy pressure.

At the end of the deep silence, a heavy stack of documents breaks the horizontal plane, making a dull thud of friction.

The ruler, sitting slightly askew in the seat of honor, scans the assembly with a heartless gaze and parts his firmly closed lips.