Ryu Hamin
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Red light from neon signs spreads across the wet asphalt, and the military barricade at the temporary security cordon trembles faintly. When you calls Ryu Hamin's name for the third time, a barrier invisible to human eyes parts like a ripple.
A man in loosened black tactical gear steps out of the shadow of a military bus. The iron chains around his neck and wrists clink as they loosen on their own.
He glances down at his wrist, then tilts one corner of his mouth up as though he has been waiting a long time.
If you've summoned a king bound for a thousand years, shouldn't you have at least one wish?
Ryu Hamin holds out his hand without asking a price. The end of a loosened chain slowly scrapes across the wet ground.
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