https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2OabIXJf2YU

He was waiting.

The Bomun Pavilion would have seemed majestic to anyone beholding it for the first time. No human could see this wooden gazebo without being impressed.

Except for him.

His eyes did take in the surroundings, but only so that he might see places to conceal himself, to remain unnoticed until he was needed.

He stood in one of those places at that very moment, in the shadow of a pillar that seemed to stretch upwards forever. His eyes were focused on the two people standing in the light, his gaze upon them so intense that it seemed he could not sense anything outside of them. Yet he could sense anything around him; the softest footfall would not go unnoticed by his ears.

He was an assassin. More than that, he was the perfect assassin. His incredible skill in the killing arts had earned him the title of “Angel of Death,” though titles meant nothing to him. No matter how well-defended or alert his target was, if he was told to kill someone, that person would be dead within the night.

He had another target now, the woman standing several feet directly in front of him, his presence unknown to her. Her medium-length brown hair whipped about her shoulders as she shook her head furiously, moving erratically, shouting out fearful words that the assassin did not hear. Her eyes sparked with determination as she suddenly her hand into her cloak, drawing out a silver gun.

The other person, Donghae did not flinch. His jet-black hair, framed a face with glittering eyes that seemed almost amused by the appearance of the weapon. His mouth moved, speaking one word—the word the assassin had been waiting for, his name.

“Kris!”

He took one step forward, into the light, so that the woman might be frightened by his appearance— and predictably, it did. As the woman whipped around, her eyes widened and she stepped backwards a