Minseok sighed, a sad and forlorn noise. He traced his finger along the glass, wishing nothing more than to touch the beads of water that slid down the outside of the window. Staring past the raindrops, towards the winding drive, he considered that the earth was reflecting his sadness. Dark storm clouds hung overhead, the flash of lightning periodically illuminated the overgrown gardens of the manor house. It was like the world knew how forlorn he was, how the sadness clung to him no matter how he tried to shake it off.

“You rang, sir?” a soft voice called from the far side of the room. The familiar, gentle tone somehow bristling his nerves.

“Yixing, did you do what I asked of you?” Minseok didn’t turn away from the window, his hand still lingering on the cool glass.

“About the sir, sir?” Yixing, his faithful manservant, looked for confirmation.

Minseok rolled his eyes. What else would he be asking about?! Sometimes he swore Yixing was dense, too honest and scatterbrained to follow along with his lofty goals. “Yes, about the sir.”

“Yes, of course. He is waiting for you in your laboratory,” Yixing informed him.

“Very good.” Minseok removed his hand from the window. Holding his hand up he flexed his fingers, making a fist and then releasing it. “Does he understand what happened?”

“No, sir. I don’t believe that he does,” Yixing confirmed.

“Is he afraid?” Minseok queried. He could guess that the man was terrified, they usually were once they were brought to him.

“No, sir. He is in good spirits.”

How very odd, to not be racked with fear in that situation. “I believe I should go greet him, if he is in high spirits.”

“Very well, sir. Very well.”

Minseok nodded towards the portraits as he passed, giving a cursory greeting to his ancestors. The long gallery was littered with the artwork, their stoic expressions watching him, observing what their dynasty had become.

They were once the mightiest family in the land, with an estate that spanned three counties, not to mention their subsidiary homes and city mansions. The very sound of their last name was enough to make even royalty bow down to their will. Centuries they existed this way, revered far and wide. But now...now….

Minseok knew it affected his grandfather and his father, he couldn't be certain what exact generation it started with. The curse, the reason their surname fell into obscurity, may have gone back much further than Minseok could have ever guessed. Years had passed since the last time he tried to decipher the beginning of the end, the last time he failed yet again.

The rain was coming down in sheets now, pounding against the floor to ceiling arched windows. Minseok resisted the impulse to stop and watch, knowing he had to see the new arrival sooner rather than later.

His laboratory was in a central part of the manor house, in the room that had once acted as the gilded ballroom. The space once hosted royalty, nobility and now...now it hosted Minseok’s best hope. His family’s only hope.

The parquet floors still existed as did the plaster and gilding. It gave his workspace a bizarre appearance -- lavishness meeting practicality. The hint of what was and the promise of what could be.

Minseok’s heels clicked on the polished floors. Yixing still insisted that the wood was shined, kept spotless, no matter what the room was used for currently. Fifteen wide steps and the lord of the manor was facing his guest, gazing at his bored expression, curious how he remained so calm. The man leaned against a worktable, arms folded against his chest. Had he finally selected the right person?

The man stared at Minseok in turn, warm brown eyes raking over him. Minseok thought he looked younger than the age he had been told. He was thin, of average height, not terribly imposing. Minseok supposed his face was charming, pretty perhaps. Disarming, he decided, was the appropriate term.

“Are you Lu Han of the Royal Geographic Society?” Minseok asked, knowing full well that he was.

“Yes. And you are Kim Minseok, or so your servant informed me,” Lu Han responded.

“Indeed.” Minseok was not one to hold back when there was work to be done, wasn’t one to use allusions when he could get right to the point. “I need you to kill someone for me.”

A flicker of emotion, of surprise perhaps, showed in Lu Han’s face before his expression returned to being tightly controlled. “Who?”

Minseok smiled. So Lu Han wasn’t going to do what the others had done, asking why, protesting the idea, lecturing him on the morality of murder.

“I am not entirely certain who,” Minseok answered honestly. “But you will know when you meet them.”

Lu Han nodded, a gesture that seemed to indicate he was mulling over the request.

Minseok observed the man, noting his mannerisms. He had first learned of Lu Han through the periodicals Yixing brought him, the serialized account of Lu Han’s trek to reach the south pole capturing the adventurous imagination of the populous for months. After Lu Han returned, unsuccessful in his expedition but famous in his own right,  he set off for parts unknown, exploring, cataloging, keeping the excitement of the everyman alive. Hero is what some people called him.

“If I succeed, what will be my reward?” Lu Han broke the silence.

“What is it that you want?” It was a deal Minseok had made before. Long ago he had learned that it was best to let them state their desired reward instead of telling them.

“I want you to marry me,” Lu Han answered without missing a beat.

Minseok tensed. “What?”

“I want you to marry me,” Lu Han repeated. “I know you aren’t married, I asked your servant. I lack a respectable lineage, if I marry you I will have it.”

“I do not intend to marry,” Minseok responded. It was the first request that had made him uncomfortable.

“Then I do not intend to kill someone for you.” Lu Han started to walk towards the door of the laboratory. “Now if you do not have any further business, I wo--”

Minseok balled his hands into fists, digging his nails into the skin of his palms. “Alright. I agree.”

Lu Han stopped in his tracks. “Very good. Then I shall help you.”

Dread pooled in Minseok’s stomach at what he had just agreed to. If he wasn’t so desperate, if Lu Han didn’t seem like the one who could help him…Inconsequential details, Minseok reminded himself. Lu Han hadn’t succeeded yet, he shouldn't worry until the reward became a promise.

“We need to get started, time is of the essence,” Minseok informed his new business partner, walking to the far end of the ballroom.

“What do we need to do?” Lu Han queried, following after Minseok.

“I need to affix this machine to you, to ready you for your task.” Minseok began to fiddle with the large metal contraption that dominated one end of the ballroom.

“What is this machine?” Lu Han asked, stopping to observe Minseok’s work.

Minseok, head turned away from Lu Han while he fiddled with the contraption, smiled. This was the second part of the deal that frightened people, the second moment of panic after the murder request. He had learned what not to do. “It is better that you know little of its functions in the beginning. Wait, and everything will be clear.”

Minseok turned to look at Lu Han, waiting for him to protest and try to escape like all the others.