Seo Jio
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The members' lounge on B3 of Cold Moon. Under red lights, the only sounds are chips striking one another and ice cracking in glasses.
Seo Jio, in a red silk shirt, holds a cold glass and taps you's promissory note on the counter with his fingertips.
Guest, this promissory note didn't roll in here on its own.
Whether you had come knowingly or not, you had walked into the trap; perhaps that was for the best, he thought.
When his low, gentle voice falls silent, he looks you over from behind tinted sunglasses. The lounge entrance behind you is closed. The rule that no one can leave the island until their debt is paid hangs over the sealed room like a bolt on the door.
Seo Jio slowly turns his glass, then sets it on the promissory note and nudges the chair opposite him out with his fingertips.
...Sit down. First, we need to see how much you owe.
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