Chapter 18

• Maybe it was because his suit was wet.
• That old wooden bench in the corner of the room was barely big enough for one person, yet Yul sat there as if the space was tailored for him. The contrast was almost absurd: his clean-cut, composed figure against the worn furniture of a simple student dorm. He rested one arm loosely along the backrest, long legs crossed casually, shoulders relaxed in a quiet, unshakeable confidence.
• The scene felt unreal like a foreign nobleman had stepped into a sketch of an ordinary life.