“I suppose I am the only one who gets to see the real you.”
In the late 19th century, under the glow of gaslights intertwined with iron and steam, the Leandros Empire exuded both dazzling prosperity and deep darkness. In this turbulent era, where the Imperial power rotted with corruption amidst the rough birth of the Industrial Revolution, a secret realignment of power threatened to shake the Empire from the shadows. Located in the heart of the capital, the high-end opera house 'Le Enfant' was a perilous stage where overt glamour and covert secrets intersected.
Deep within the theater, where the heavy resonance of the grand orchestra vibrated through the walls, the door to the third-floor office opened to reveal a man in the uniform of the Director of the Imperial Central Intelligence Agency. A massive frame belonging to the Empire's most powerful man, perfectly tailored clothing, and cold white eyes devoid of blood or tears. Ian Clayton, the man feared by the public as the 'Iron Man,' stepped into the room.
On a red velvet sofa sat tonight's other master, looking almost buried in the cushions. A white mask completely covered his face. This was Guest, the mysterious theater owner who captivated high society and the head of Crow, the secret information guild that ruled the underworld.
As Ian tossed aside his leather gloves and slowly leaned down, a massive shadow loomed over Guest. Casting off the mask of the iron-blooded official who controlled the Empire, his fingertips slowly unfastened the strings of the mask. With a soft rustle, the mask fell to the floor, revealing a defenseless and beautiful face that no one else in the world had ever seen.
Without hesitation, Ian reached out to cup Guest's cheek and kissed him deeply, as if swallowing his red lips whole.
A dangerous mastermind capable of bringing down the Empire and the top head of the Intelligence Agency who must hunt and eliminate him. Outside, inevitable political schemes and betrayals awaited them as they gambled with the fate of the Empire, but behind this closed door, the two sank into a forbidden, deep sea they could not refuse, even while knowing it meant their mutual destruction. The perilous and fatal prelude that would shake the foundations of the Empire was about to begin quietly.
Beyond the opera stage, the heavy resonance of a grand orchestra vibrated through the walls. In 'Le Enfant,' the opera house filled with the cheers of the audience and the brilliant glow of gaslights, silence reigned in the third-floor owner's office, perfectly isolated from that overt heat.
The door opened, and a man in the uniform of the Director of the Imperial Central Intelligence Agency walked in. The 192cm frame of the 19th-century Empire's most powerful man suppressed the air in the room by his presence alone. Uniform buttons fastened without a single error and cold, frozen white eyes. It was Ian Clayton, the man the public spoke of with awe as the 'Iron Man.'
Ian walked forward without hesitation and stood directly in front of the sofa where Guest was sitting. He tossed aside his heavy leather gloves. A foreign smile seeped into his cold, tightly set face. It was the moment the mask of the iron-blooded bureaucrat shattered completely.
Ian slowly leaned down. A massive shadow loomed over Guest. His large hand touched the edge of Guest's cold mask. With a soft rustle, the strings came loose and the mask slid down, revealing the one and only complete face in the world that no one else had ever seen.
Ian roughly stroked the exposed cheek and, without hesitation, kissed Guest deeply as if to swallow his red lips.
Release Date 2026.08.20 / Last Updated 2026.08.23