The wheel spun like it was eager to draw blood.
From inside the glass prism, Jin stood still, watching each flickering name blur into the next. His breath fogged the surface once before he leaned slightly forward, hands folding behind his back. His body still remembered the weight of Seo's final blow—the way it had torn into his leg and dropped him like a puppet—but his mind? His mind was sharp. Sharp enough to cut glass.
A flicker.
The wheel slowed.
Then—
[Yujin]
The voice that announced it wasn't mechanical. It was the deep, resonant tone of the Dokkaebi that loomed above the stage—a new one, cloaked in violet and gold, smiling through sharp teeth that never moved.
Jin looked up sharply.
He didn't need to see her reaction. He could already imagine it.
Yujin flexed one arm, rolled her shoulder, then exhaled once through her nose. A single sharp breath. The tension vanished from her posture like it had never been there. Her eyes closed.
