𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑪𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒍 |니키˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

1.1🦢

Japan; Okayama; Nishimura Manor; 10-5-2026

As I made my way through the dimly lit corridors of the Nishimura Manor, the oppressive weight of the night settled over me. The air was thick with a strange tension, as if the walls themselves were whispering secrets. My footsteps were soft against the marble floor, the silence almost suffocating. It was late—too late to leave without drawing attention, and staying here another night in this den of power and deception was its own kind of risk.

I sighed quietly, knowing that for now, I had no choice.

The room they had prepared for me was at the far end of the east wing, away from the bustle of the main areas. The manor was so expansive, with its long hallways and shadowed alcoves, that it felt like a labyrinth. Every turn felt like a reminder of how deep I was in their world now, how the lines between my mission and this twisted reality were beginning to blur.

I opened the door to the room and slipped inside, closing it softly behind me. The space was lavish—far more luxurious than any hotel room I'd stayed in. The bed, draped in dark silk sheets, seemed to beckon me to rest, but I felt restless, uneasy. My body was exhausted, but my mind was racing.

I sat on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts of Riki out of my head. But as much as I tried, his image lingered—his dark eyes, the way he'd held me against that wall, the syringe in his hand, hovering dangerously close to my neck. His touch still burned on my skin, not in the way that ignited fear, but in a way that unsettled me, that made me question just how far he'd already gotten under my defenses.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the mission bearing down on me. I needed to clear my head. I couldn't afford to think about him—not in that way. This was about survival, about gathering intel, and bringing down the Nishimura family from the inside. And yet, as much as I tried to focus on that, my mind kept wandering back to the duel.

The **Katana of the Rising Sun**, the blade Riki had used to kill his own father.

I had watched the tapes, seen the cold brutality with which he had moved. There had been no hesitation, no mercy. The moment Kento Nishimura had fallen, Riki had become something more than just an heir. He had become the embodiment of the Nishimura legacy—a legacy steeped in blood and power.

My stomach churned at the thought, a reminder of just how dangerous he truly was. And yet, despite everything, I couldn't help but feel drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. **Dangerous.**

I stood up and paced the room, my nerves on edge. The window overlooked the sprawling grounds of the estate, and beyond it, the city lights glimmered in the distance. I could hear the faint sound of crickets in the night air, but it did little to calm the storm inside me.

**Focus, Jiyoung.** I had a job to do.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I checked the encrypted messages from my team. There were updates—movements in the underworld that I needed to track. But tonight, I couldn't report back. Not yet. Being under the same roof as Riki meant every word, every action, had to be carefully measured. I couldn't risk giving anything away. Not when he was so close.

But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the mission, my mind kept drifting back to him. To the way he had looked at me, as if he saw right through my facade.

I couldn't shake the feeling that the deeper I got into this, the more tangled I became in Riki's web. And I didn't know if I could untangle myself before it was too late.

I paced the room, the tension coiling tighter in my chest with each passing moment. The shadows danced along the walls, and the luxurious decor felt stifling, a gilded cage that reminded me of my precarious position within the Nishimura empire. I had come here to infiltrate, to gather information, yet all I seemed to gather were thoughts of Riki—his cold gaze, the sharpness of his words, the way his presence dominated every room he entered.