CRACK.
His head shattered like brittle porcelain, sending shards of bone and a fine spray of blood across the polished floor and the foot of the ornate bed.
For a moment, silence reigned—
Broken only by the slow, rhythmic drip... drip... drip... of thick red liquid pooling beneath him.
The man standing over the corpse exhaled softly, as if bored.
"Clean it," he commanded, his voice cold and detached.
Without a word, the woman in black stepped forward. She knelt gracefully beside the body, pulling a dark cloth from her sleeve. The cloth seemed to swallow the blood into its fabric as she wiped, her movements precise and unflinching.
CHINA'S STUDENT POV.
Meanwhile, in the Jeju Art Museum
Three students stood in front of a grand sculpture towering over the museum entrance.
The wind off the sea played with their hair and robes, carrying the faint scent of salt and stone.
