Outside her day job at Sad Mart, Secretary Kim lived a double life as a fitness Vtuber. It was a passion project—one she was convinced would provide enough mental distraction to drown out the burning heat flooding her veins and the hyper-sensitivity singing across her skin.
She put her phone into its tripod, kicked off her shoes, and went live, throwing herself directly into a high-intensity workout.
Outside the door, Asher's patience wore thin. Curious about her "distraction," he raised a hand and flicked his wrist. A razor-thin blade of compressed wind sheared through the deadbolt. The lock snapped apart and the door swung open.
Kim gasped, her pulse spiking as the heat in her blood violently intensified the second he stepped into her space. She opened her mouth to scream, but Asher simply raised a single finger to his lips, locking his eyes on hers.
'Quiet. Keep streaming.'
