Normal people can't even imagine what goes on in the underworld.
It's so grotesque that even new recruits faint.
Sure, they might picture mafias, underlings, right-hand men and all that—
But did you know?
People in power… can be so disgusting, their crimes stretch far beyond murder.
Some things can't even be written down.
In every hierarchy, there's always someone at the top.
And let's be honest—
The underworld is nothing less than a circus.
And every circus has a Ringleader.
In this one, his name is Ruman.
A man so feared, entire mafias step aside when he walks into a room.
His crime record?
Long enough to wrap around the Earth seven times.
Drug trafficking, illegal organ trading, torture, mass murder—
He's done it all.
His talents?
Manipulation. Money. Madness.
He has it all.
Even his underlings are respected.
Henchmen. Minions. Spies.
And then… there are his DOGS.
They were children. All broken, all lost.
He took them in.
And raised them into perfect killing machines.
Each child had to master combat and one additional skill.
Fail… and you'd be discarded.
These kids weren't registered.
Weren't allowed to exist.
Legally dead.
They were called his ghost children.
No names.
Just numbers.
And the first of them all—was Number One.
-----
Oliver sat in her assigned seat beside Tim, casually scanning the room.
And then—he walked in.
Tall.
Confident.
Eyes shining like blue jewels.
The girls squealed immediately as he passed, their whispers like static.
Mullet hair. Blue eyes. Athletic build. That's him.
Oliver knew her target the second she saw him.
She gave Tim a small signal, and they both stood to approach.
"Hello," Oliver said, flashing a warm, practiced smile.
Standing at six feet in her shoes, she still only reached his ears.
It made her feel weirdly short. And she hated it.
The guy took one glance at her, smirked—
"Hah."
—then rolled his eyes and walked past her without a word.
Oliver's smile twitched.
"Rude…" she muttered.
Though, in her mind, she'd already imagined four different ways to kill him.
His death date just moved up the calendar.
"Uhm… Brother," Tim whispered from behind her.
"You're leaking killing intent again…"
Oliver glanced at him with a dangerously sweet smile.
"If you don't want to be the victim, step away."
Tim immediately backed off.
Then, a girl nearby tapped Oliver's arm.
"Excuse me… What's your name?"
Oliver tilted her head, putting on the charming act again.
"Hm? Me?"
"Yes."
"Oliver." She smiled. Smooth. Gentle. Effortlessly pretty.
The girls blushed.
"He smiled."
"Don't you think he's even prettier than the chairman's son?"
"Yeah… he's pretty. While the chairman's son is handsome."
"I like pretty boys."
Oliver's smile curled into something more flirty.
"And I like when pretty ladies don't compare me, loves."
She winked slightly.
"So how about we stop doing that… hmm?"
The girls squealed.
Meanwhile, Tim stood behind him, completely stunned.
"...Is that the same person??"
Then he sighed.
"Well… face card never declines."
""But… why is he being so flirty?"
Tim leaned in toward Oliver.
"Uhm… brother, don't you think Lily would be—"
"Who's Lily?" another girl asked, eyes wide.
"I dunno. Do you know Lily?"
"Nope."
Oliver gave a lazy chuckle, resting her chin on her hand.
"Well… it'd be fun to see her jealous. I bet she'd look adorable."
The girls gasped.
"Ahh! You have a girlfriend??"
Oliver smiled sweetly, even as her brain screamed.
"Yes. And she's the only one in my heart."
Cue giggles.
"Wow! What section is she in?"
"Is she pretty?"
"You're so faithful!"
"So you are a good boy, huh?"
Oliver laughed lightly, but in her mind:
"Seriously, this damned setting. WHY am I even doing this?! How is this fake dating supposed to help our mission again??"
A few seats away—
"Hey, Neo."
The chairman's son flinched ever so slightly and looked up, visibly annoyed.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that, Max?" he said coldly.
Max just grinned and slid into the seat beside him.
"C'mon, I used to call you that when we were kids. What, you gonna erase all our childhood memories now?"
Neo—Neryon, as he now insisted—rolled his eyes.
"Tch. Whatever."
Max nudged his chin toward the other side of the class.
"So… who's that?"
Neryon didn't even glance.
"New guy?"
"Yeah. Do you know him?"
"Why would I?" He gave a small sigh. "And I don't want to."
Max chuckled.
"He's pretty popular already."
"Not interested."
"Anyway, Neryon—"
"Max," Neryon cut him off, eyes still forward,
"Stop talking."
Max pouted dramatically.
"Geez. Even his friends aren't safe from the cold shoulder."
---
Back with Oliver—
She exhaled deeply, face stiff with a smile.
"How the hell am I supposed to approach that?" she muttered under her breath.
Tim leaned close.
"Brother… do you want me to dig into his past?"
His glasses flashed ominously.
Oliver blinked.
"…Oh, right. You're here."
She paused.
Then smirked faintly.
"Sure. Not that it'll help much… but hey, worth a shot, right?"