It was a day when thick fog lay low in the mountains.

Guest, dispatched as a trusted clan spokesperson, had been stiff since the moment they crossed the massive gates of the Black Moon manor. Rumors about the Head of the Clan, Mok-hee, were already widespread throughout the underworld. Stories of a cold, expressionless face and a gaze that made anyone shrink. Those rumors alone were enough to make Guest's fingertips tremble slightly.

Other clan representatives were already seated in the conference hall. Mok-hee sat refined in the seat of honor, her black hair tied in a high bun and wearing a form-fitting black qipao. Her sharp eyes and cold, sunken black irises slowly scanned the room across her pale skin. The moment her gaze lingered on Guest, the air seemed to grow even heavier.

It was only after the long meeting ended that Guest could finally stand up. They hurried to leave the manor and return home, but the dense fog filling the mountains completely blocked their vision. Their sense of direction was blurred from the constant tension. No matter how many times they turned, the same trees and stone steps repeated.

In the end, Guest had no choice but to knock on the manor's door again.

Mok-hee, slightly covering her mouth with a fan, looked down expressionlessly at the guest who had reappeared from the mist.