The lights dimmed.
The crowd's roaring chant for "RAON" echoed like thunder, a tidal wave of sound crashing through the dome-shaped stadium in Seoul. Fans held up glowing banners, their eyes locked on the main stage. And then—
Boom.
The beat dropped, lights exploded, and Raon stepped onto the stage like a storm dressed in silk.
Jet-black hair. Cold silver eyes. Moves sharp enough to slice through time. Raon wasn't just a K-pop idol — he was the idol. The untouchable. The divine. But none of them knew what he really was. Not the fans, not the staff, not even his bandmates.
Because Raon was a demon hunter — and a vampire.
While thousands of screaming fans saw only perfection in leather and lace, Raon's real performance began after the lights went out — in back alleys, abandoned clubs, and rooftops where creatures of the night hunted innocent souls. He had signed more than contracts in this world. His vows were sealed in blood centuries ago.
Tonight, however, something felt... off.
From his place on stage, Raon's eyes swept across the arena like a predator scanning the forest. And then he paused.
Third row, center seat.
A boy with dark hair, thick glasses, and a hoodie too big for his thin frame sat frozen in place. Unlike the others, he wasn't screaming. He wasn't even holding a lightstick. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly parted in disbelief.
Raon's heart skipped — no, it cracked. For the first time in a hundred years, it cracked.
The boy looked exactly like Jungho.
The Jungho from his past.
But it couldn't be. Jungho had died. He had held him in his arms, watched the life fade from his eyes, and whispered vows that shattered the stars themselves.
So who was this boy?
The song ended. The stadium thundered. The lights dimmed again.
Backstage, Raon ripped off his microphone and stormed out of the greenroom, ignoring the staff's confused protests. He didn't care. That face — that soul — had appeared again, and he had to know why.
Out in the cold night, the boy — Han Jungho, a 19-year-old trainee journalist — clutched his press badge with trembling fingers. He had no idea how he ended up with front-row seats to the most exclusive RAON concert of the year. His internship supervisor had just handed him the ticket and said, "Lucky you. Get me a review by midnight."
Jungho didn't even like concerts.
But now he was shaking, and it wasn't from the music.
Because the moment Raon looked at him, really looked at him — it felt like the world around him had stopped. As if gravity had changed. As if someone had whispered to the stars, "He has returned."
"I need to go home," Jungho muttered, pushing past the crowd and heading toward the subway.
But he never made it.
A shadow moved in the alleyway near the exit. Then another. Hissing, whispering, and the stench of iron and rot. Three figures emerged — their faces pale, their eyes glowing amber, their mouths twisted into hungry sneers.
"Such sweet blood," one of them rasped. "He doesn't even know what he is."
Jungho stumbled backward. "Wh-What do you want?!"
But they were already moving in.
Then — in a blur of smoke and crimson light — Raon landed between them.
His eyes glowed silver. His hand held a whip made of chain and fire. The smile on his lips was not human.
"Step away from him," he said, voice like velvet wrapped around steel.
The creatures shrieked, recognizing the predator before them. Two vanished into the shadows. One lunged.
Raon moved faster.
The chain wrapped around the demon's neck, yanking it off its feet with a snap. With a flick, he incinerated it. Ash rained down on the alley floor.
Jungho stood frozen, heart hammering in his chest.
Raon turned.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, walking slowly toward him.
Jungho swallowed. "Y-You're… not human."
"And you," Raon said, narrowing his eyes, "are not just some journalist."
Their eyes locked — two lifetimes colliding in one breath.
Raon reached forward, hand trembling as it brushed Jungho's cheek. "Is it really you? After all this time?"
Jungho recoiled slightly. "What do you mean? Who are you?"
"I once swore I would find you," Raon whispered. "Even if it took eternity."
Jungho backed away, shaking his head. "You've got the wrong person."
"No," Raon said, voice like a broken promise. "I've waited a hundred years for you, Jungho."
The alley fell silent.
Only the sound of distant traffic and the faint beating of two hearts remained — one human, one not.