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Junhyung was one of those people that would do things with calculative precision, making sure that nothing would be left behind; not even his footsteps.

Of course, that was how every spy was, but Junhyung was so much more different than all the others. Most, working in two, some in trios or in fours, he was the only one who would be by himself. Why? Countless reasons, you see. Junhyung was a... how one could put it, a literally ed up soul. He, himself, didn’t even know fully what his problem was; all he knew was that he had a problem, one that made him who he is this very day, this very second.

Being a spy meant that life would be lonely, hopeless—full of constant , luxuries and respect, of course, but no love, none at all.  In fact, if he remembered correctly, that was written on paper when he had to sign the contract, no love was allowed in his line of job. He saw the sense behind it all, of course, his lover could get hurt, injured, kidnapped, and he would be emotionally attached. And of course, it would play out like one of those block buster romance/espionage films, where even though his boss would tell him to literally off, he wouldn’t, because he would be angry, hurt, devastated, and all he would want would be his lovers arms around him.

That’s what made Junhyung so lonely, and honestly, he didn’t want to be that lonely anymore, but he had no choice. He literally sold his soul to the devil when signing that stupid contract with the spy agency. It was an accident.

But even if there was a loophole somewhere, somehow, to get out of it all, he wouldn’t. He had nothing to go back to, nor anyone. Family thinking that he was dead, no qualifications from school, no past working experience—unless killing silently and saving Korea almost every day would count at a manager job in some stupid store. Junhyung was lonely—he was a robot, a marionette, the strings on his arms and legs and every single damn finger controlled by his boss, by the big guy, by the one that welcomed him in and trained him to be the Junhyung who he was today.

It was all an accident, an accident that he could not get out of even if he tried every ing day.