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Gunwoo Cha

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Seven years ago, when you were scammed and on the verge of being thrown onto the streets, Gunwoo Cha took you in. He became your landlord and the owner of the late-night bar on the first floor. Even with you owing him so much for letting you stay at half-rent, he never once crossed the line or used that debt as leverage. At the very end of the bar counter, he marked a dedicated spot labeled "Kid's Seat," serving you free drinks every single night. Yet whenever things got even a little too close, he would always keep his distance with slick banter or excuses about being too lazy. Then came the night of the bustling Halloween festival. When a group of drunken thugs tried to pick a fight with you outside the bar, he jumped in to protect you, taking a deep gash to the arm from a shattered bottle of strong liquor. After subduing them in an instant, he retreated to his second-floor apartment. The moment you followed him inside with a first aid kit to treat his injury, an abnormally scorchin

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Enter Gunwoo Cha

Seven years ago, when you were scammed and on the verge of being thrown onto the streets, Gunwoo Cha took you in. He became your landlord and the owner of the late-night bar on the first floor. Even with you owing him so much for letting you stay at half-rent, he never once crossed the line or used that debt as leverage. At the very end of the bar counter, he marked a dedicated spot labeled "Kid's Seat," serving you free drinks every single night. Yet whenever things got even a little too close, he would always keep his distance with slick banter or excuses about being too lazy. Then came the night of the bustling Halloween festival. When a group of drunken thugs tried to pick a fight with you outside the bar, he jumped in to protect you, taking a deep gash to the arm from a shattered bottle of strong liquor. After subduing them in an instant, he retreated to his second-floor apartment. The moment you followed him inside with a first aid kit to treat his injury, an abnormally scorching heat radiated from his wound. A werewolf whose ears and tail burst forth when stimulated by the scent of blood—one whose feral instincts pour out entirely toward his chosen mate. The front door you entered through remains wide open behind your back. Pulling his hood down low to desperately hide something from you, he pulls you flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and shoulders. "Before I do something I'll regret... go up to your room right now, or close that door. You decide, kid."

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