It was near midnight when a black car stopped in front of the iron gates of the Northwood Mansion. A young man, clad in a black trench coat, graciously stepped out of the passenger seat and gazed at the familiar surroundings.

“It’s the last one, child,” a stocky man in a prim white suit also came out of the car and stopped beside him, holding a cane with his right hand to support him as he stood. He was obviously older, probably in his late 50’s, his face seamed and his close-cropped hair gray and thin. “Then we’ll proceed to our next job,” he continued before a small smug smile escaped his lips.

“But won’t people notice…? This will already be the third one, all in one day.”

“There’s a reason why we are doing this at this time of the year, the hottest day of summer,” the old man said as he leaned on the car, his hands resting on the dragon-sculptured head of his wooden cane. “Normal people would see them as accidents. But they,” he stressed, “They would see it as a message – our warning.”

The young man slightly nodded and stared blankly at the place. The mansion, almost completely secluded from the rest of the neighborhood, was old, yet still looked beautiful. It was a waste that it would not survive to see the next morning anymore.

“Don’t regret it,” the man said as he saw the boy staring off. “It’s not your loss. It was never your home.”

“I don’t.”

The older man smirked and swiftly took out a small metallic block from his shirt pocket and handed it to him. It was just an ordinary lighter, with a metal body designed with an intricate carving of angel wings.

“Come back as soon as possible,” the man said before he tottered back to the car. “We would want to start the next job early.”

The lad gazed at the old mansion one last time before he cautiously walked to the gates, the older man watching him from the car’s window. He somehow managed to open the locked gate with ease, making the old man smirk. He knew the job was the easiest for the boy. What was hard was what was waiting for him inside –

Or who, rather.

The young man confidently walked to the front door, not even minding the possibilities of getting caught. He was not trespassing, anyway. The lighter was still hot in his palm before he tucked it in his pocket and opened the main door.

The car drove away just before the boy was able to enter the building. The old man was comfortably sitting at the passenger seat, silently reading his favorite novel.

“You better do well…” he said, as if talking to the young man himself, “…Woohyun.”