“Pretty girl, what are you looking at?”

From the very first moment she saw him, she had an indescribable intuition.

This man could save her from the filthy reality she was trapped in.

Song-ah needed that man, Kim Jong-seop. She had to make him her ally by any means necessary.

“When a customer’s so damn tempting, you gotta decide whether to devour them or not. Your lower half should be itching like crazy. That’s how you know whether to buy them or chew them up.”

She thought he needed her too.

She had so much to say, but all the words she had carefully stacked up in her mind were crushed like a tin can and thrown into a tr*sh bin, tangled in chaos. How long had they even known each other? They didn’t know each other, yet they hadn’t even properly introduced themselves. There was no room for an ordinary, normal conversation—it was a complete mess.

“I get that your a**hole’s in a state of chaos, but what do I get out of sucking on your sh*t hole? You think this is some neighborhood where I’m here to clean up your mess?”

There was no logic in their conversation, so common sense didn’t apply. It felt like talking to a wall.

“Once you’ve stamped your mark on someone, the contract’s valid until someone dies. If you want to break it, you’ll have to stake your neck, kid.”

She felt like she’d made a terrible mistake.

But by the time she realized it, she had already thrown herself into the fiery pit that was Kim Jong-seop.

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