Chapter 1
Sudden chill pierced through her entire body. Just moments ago, it definitely hadn't been cold...
She wanted to collapse right there on the spot, but she couldn't. She felt like she had to confirm if the person lying on the floor, body twisted at an unnatural angle, was really Myeong-hyeon. Her hands shook so badly she dropped the umbrella she'd been holding, but Ha-jin took slow steps forward, oblivious to the rain drenching her completely.
No way? Unni...
Splish, splash. Water splashed mercilessly under her unsteady, clumsy steps, but she paid it no mind.
Unni, Myeong-hyeon unni.
The closer she got, the less the woman looked like Myeong-hyeon. Blood flowed like a river—so much she couldn't even tell where it was coming from. Rain kept blurring her vision.
Like a madwoman, Ha-jin wiped the stinging water from her eyes and face over and over, finally reaching right up to the fallen Myeong-hyeon. Her hair, soaked with something that could have been blood or water, lay messily splayed across the floor.
Her stomach churned. She couldn't even tell how she was managing to control her uncontrollably trembling limbs. It was then, as Ha-jin bent down in helpless shaking to brush aside the hair covering Myeong-hyeon's face—
Aaah!
It wasn't Ha-jin's scream. A piercing shriek from someone snapped her fully awake, making her flinch like she'd been burned, shoulders quaking.
***
"Gasp!"
In that split second of squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again—trapped in momentary darkness—what filled her vision wasn't the pool of blood or the rain-obscured haze. Just a stark white void.
"Huff... Hah..."
Her body, gripped by sleep paralysis, suddenly relaxed, freeing her blocked breath. Like someone on the verge of a fit who regained their senses just in time, Ha-jin patted herself down. She was soaked in cold sweat.
Only then did she realize the pristine white expanse before her was the ceiling.
Again... sleep paralysis. And a nightmare to boot. Ha-jin slowly lowered her eyelids, feeling her rigid muscles gradually loosen as she cupped her face in both hands.
The metallic tang of blood lingered at the tip of her nose.
***
Hotel Galliano—one of the crown jewels even on the Las Vegas Strip.
In this city, the flashiest among the world's eternal neon havens, crowds streamed in and out of the hotel around the clock. The woman crossing the lobby with the sharp click-clack of her heels was just one more.
She had appeared out of nowhere, without a single attendant or porter in tow. Pitch-black sunglasses devoured her porcelain-pale face. Below them peeked a refined nose and vivid red lips.
The desk clerk faltered for a moment before switching to polished, veteran hospitality.
[Welcome, ma'am. How may I assist you?]
The woman slipped off her sunglasses and set a sleek, weighty titanium card on the desk. A special card reserved for the hotel's elite Platinum members.
"Take me to the High Limit Lounge."
Jean You
The clerk verified the embossed name on the satiny front and the membership number on the back. The woman, who looked Korean, spoke flawless English, free of any telltale Asian inflection.
Regardless of origin, few guests qualified for this hotel's High Limit Lounge. It was code: extend maximum courtesy, no questions asked.
[Membership confirmed. Have you booked a personal shopper or private bar?]
[I'll be hitting the casino.]
[Understood. For marker1 service, the lounge concierge will assist you.]
[Got it.]
[One moment, ma'am. Connecting your dedicated host now.]
A suited man soon appeared before her, maintaining a polite distance with a courteous bow.
[An honor to serve you. Right this way to the High Limit Lounge.]
The overwhelming pressure she'd once felt stepping into this world—the shrinking dread, the suffocating aura—had long since vanished.
Ha-jin was led not to the public elevators, but through a discreet passage hidden behind the lobby's grand marble wall. She stepped into the glass-walled lift, gazing indifferently at the glittering nightscape below.
When had such red-carpet treatment become routine? Waking from that disorienting nightmare into this alien opulence, so utterly at odds with the dream, drew a wry chuckle from her.
Ever attuned to guest reactions, the host promptly asked if anything was amiss. Ha-jin met his desperate, flaw-fearing eyes with cool detachment before turning back to the kaleidoscope of lights, murmuring hollowly.
"Just... everything beautiful feels so empty."
***
Sealed off from the noise of regular rooms and lower floors, the High Limit Lounge atop the hotel was serene and hushed. Only faint jazz from the bar, cigar lounge, or late-night fine dining drifted in now and then.
The host escorted Ha-jin to Room 7. She paused at the elegant placard, wondering if that lucky number would be the key to lifting her mood today, then stepped inside.
The space beyond hummed with icy tension bordering on chill. Lined in soundproof leather, the only sounds were cards and chips gliding over felt, and the occasional low mutter.
As Ha-jin took her seat, a server approached with sparkling champagne on a tray.
[No, thank you.]
Her low, clear voice cut through the quiet, drawing every eye from the poker game. Someone let out a soft whistle, tossing out an opener that could pass for greeting or mockery.
[Here to lose some money?]
[New face.]
Led by one, the room's sole woman drew blunt barbs laced with zero courtesy. It was familiar territory. Casinos were men's domain to these types—plenty had learned the hard way after sneering like that.
Ha-jin sat stone-faced, not even scoffing, eyes fixed solely on the dealer as if the others were invisible.
[Deal me in next hand. Blinds?2]
[Blinds are five thousand, ten thousand. No Limit Game.3 We'll have you in as soon as this hand ends.]
Ha-jin did the math in her head. Breathing alone cost over ten million won per hand in vanished cash. No-limit betting meant a bad run could vaporize billions in minutes. Brutal stakes.
Imagining the leering eyes—already gleaming at the thought of stripping her bare—go slack with shock, she watched the cards slide from the dealer's fingers.
They clocked her composure: rules down pat, unflinching raises. The mockers exchanged uneasy glances, sensing something off.
At last, the new hand began. Ha-jin scrawled her signature on the host's marker slip.
[Two million dollars to start. I'll call for more if needed.]
One signature swapped for hundreds of millions in chips stacked before her. No need to table every penny—everyone sensed her marker was virtually unlimited. Rudeness gave way to dawning dismay on their faces.
Footnotes
1 Casino Marker: A credit line letting VVIPs borrow chips worth hundreds of millions instantly based on assets and rating. Standard at major casinos worldwide.
2 Blind: Forced bets functioning like an entry fee/basic pot.
3 No Limit Game: Poker variant with no upper bet cap—go all-in anytime.