Chapter 3: A Fate Written in Blood
1668 Words
“Sometimes, fate doesn’t begin with love… it begins with a single glance.”“Some meetings are written by fate… others are written by something far darker.”
Seoul Art Center
10:15 A.M.
The grand exhibition hall buzzed with excitement.
Rows of paintings stretched across the white walls.
Journalists.
Art critics.
Collectors.
Young artists nervously stood beside their work, hoping someone would stop.
Han So-yoon adjusted the name tag on her dress.
HAN SO-YOON
Aspiring Illustrator
She looked around anxiously.
“This place is huge…”
Her artwork hung near the back of the gallery.
A beautiful painting of Seoul at sunset.
Hidden within the reflection of the river…
Was the silhouette of a lone musician.
Only careful viewers would recognize it was MIN.
Her heart pounded.
“What if nobody likes it?”
Meanwhile…
Outside…
Over twenty black luxury vehicles pulled into the entrance.
The crowd erupted.
“It’s him!”
“MIN!”
“Oh my God!”
Security immediately surrounded the entrance.
Camera flashes exploded.
Fans screamed.
The rear door of the limousine slowly opened.
A polished black shoe stepped onto the pavement.
Then another.
Cha Min-jun emerged wearing a tailored black suit.
His expression remained unreadable.
He simply nodded once before walking inside.
The entire building seemed to stop breathing.
Inside the gallery…
The director rushed toward him.
“Mr. Cha! Thank you for accepting our invitation.”
Min-jun gave a polite smile.
“I’m only here to support young artists.”
The words sounded kind.
His eyes…
Said nothing.
As he walked through the exhibition…
People bowed.
Some couldn’t stop staring.
Others whispered.
“He’s even more handsome in person.”
“He doesn’t even look human.”
If only they knew.
At the end of the hallway…
Min-jun suddenly stopped walking.
His crimson eyes flickered for only a second.
He sensed something…
Different.
Not evil.
Not holy.
Just…
Unfamiliar.
His gaze slowly turned toward the last painting in the room.
Han So-yoon looked up.
Their eyes met.
Time…
Stopped.
She forgot to breathe.
Her heart raced wildly.
It’s really him…
The man she’d admired for years was standing right in front of her.
Min-jun studied the painting first.
Then…
Her.
For reasons he couldn’t explain…
He couldn’t look away.
“So… you’re the artist?”
His deep voice broke the silence.
So-yoon quickly bowed.
“Y-Yes!”
“I’m Han So-yoon.”
“I-I’m honored that you came.”
Min-jun looked back at the painting.
“You painted this?”
“Yes.”
“Why hide the musician?”
She smiled shyly.
“Because sometimes…”
“…the people who inspire us aren’t meant to be the center of the picture.”
“They simply give us the courage to paint it.”
For the first time in centuries…
Someone’s words caught him off guard.
Before he could respond
A waiter accidentally bumped into another guest.
A glass of red wine flew through the air.
“Oh no!”
It spilled directly toward So-yoon.
Without thinking…
Min-jun reached out.
His hand caught hers.
The moment their skin touched…
Everything changed.
A violent pulse shot through his body.
His crimson eyes widened.
Black flames flashed around his wrist.
Only for a second.
Then disappeared.
He immediately let go.
His expression remained calm.
But inside…
He was shaken.
Impossible…
For the first time in his existence…
A human had affected his demonic power.
So-yoon blinked.
“…Thank you.”
She had no idea why his hand felt strangely cold.
Or why, for a split second…
She thought she heard…
Someone whisper her name.
Min-jun turned away.
“I’ll be leaving.”
His manager hurried after him.
“Already?”
“Yes.”
“But you just arrived.”
“I’ve seen enough.”
He walked out without another word.
Inside the limousine…
He stared at his hand.
The place where she’d touched him.
It was still burning.
Not with pain…
With something he had never experienced.
Curiosity.
Far below the Earth…
Deep beneath flames that never died…
A massive throne stood in darkness.
An ancient demon knelt before it.
“Your Majesty…”
A voice echoed through Hell.
“What is it?”
The demon lowered his head.
“We felt it.”
“The Prince…”
“…has finally met her.”
A slow smile appeared on the face hidden within the shadows.
“Then…”
“…the prophecy has began
Cha Min-jun stepped into the waiting limousine without saying a word.
The door closed behind him.
Outside, reporters continued shouting his name.
“MIN!”
“Look this way!”
“One picture, please!”
The vehicle pulled away from the Seoul Art Center, leaving the flashing cameras behind.
Inside…
Silence.
Kim Seung-ho glanced at his boss through the rearview mirror.
“You’ve been acting strange all day.”
Min-jun didn’t answer.
“Usually, you’d already be reviewing tomorrow’s schedule.”
“…”
“Instead…”
The manager smiled teasingly.
“…you’ve been staring at your hand for the last ten minutes.”
Min-jun slowly lowered his gaze to his right hand.
He clenched it into a fist.
“…Drive.”
“…Yes, sir.”
Seung-ho knew better than to ask another question.
Back at the exhibition…
The excitement hadn’t faded.
People crowded around Han So-yoon’s painting.
One art critic adjusted his glasses.
“The brushwork is surprisingly mature.”
“The emotion is even stronger.”
A woman beside him nodded.
“It feels… alive.”
So-yoon stood a few steps away, too nervous to interrupt.
Was this really happening?
For years…
No one had looked twice at her paintings.
Now complete strangers were discussing them.
She smiled to herself.
Maybe…
Just maybe…
This was the beginning she’d been praying for.
A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.
“There you are!”
She turned.
“Ji-ah!”
Her best friend rushed over and hugged her tightly.
“I’ve been looking everywhere!”
“You won’t believe what’s happening online!”
So-yoon blinked.
“What now?”
Ji-ah shoved her phone into her hands.
Pictures.
Videos.
Comments.
The internet was flooded with photos of MIN standing in front of her artwork.
Some fans were already calling her…
‘The Lucky Artist.’
“Oh no…”
So-yoon covered her face.
“This is embarrassing.”
Ji-ah laughed.
“Embarrassing?”
“Half the country wants to know who you are!”
“I don’t!”
“You should.”
“This could help your career.”
So-yoon looked down at the screen.
Thousands of comments.
Most were kind.
Some weren’t.
“She only got attention because MIN stopped there.”
“Is she secretly dating him?”
“She’s pretty.”
“She’s probably another fan trying to get close to him.”
The smile slowly disappeared from her face.
Ji-ah noticed immediately.
“Ignore them.”
“They don’t know you.”
“I know…”
“But it still hurts.”
Ji-ah gently squeezed her shoulder.
“One day…”
“They’ll know your name because of your art.”
“Not because of someone else.”
So-yoon smiled again.
“…Thank you.”
Meanwhile…
The limousine stopped at a red light.
Min-jun looked out the window.
Across the street…
He noticed something.
A small boy.
No older than twelve.
Selling flowers.
His clothes were worn.
His shoes were torn.
Cars drove past him without slowing down.
The boy forced a smile at every passing stranger.
No one stopped.
Min-jun quietly watched.
Then…
Something else caught his attention.
A thin black thread.
Barely visible.
Wrapped around the boy’s wrist.
Only demons could see it.
A Contract Thread.
Min-jun’s eyes narrowed.
“…Impossible.”
The boy was too young.
He shouldn’t have one.
The traffic light turned green.
The limousine drove away.
But Min-jun couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d seen.
That evening…
Hell.
The palace echoed with distant screams.
Demons moved through endless corridors carrying scrolls soaked in crimson ink.
Each scroll contained another soul contract.
Each signature represented another life promised to Hell.
Azerion walked through the halls in silence.
Every demon he passed lowered their heads.
“Your Highness.”
“Prince Azerion.”
He acknowledged none of them.
His thoughts remained fixed on one person.
Han So-yoon.
Far above…
King Lucien stood before a massive mirror carved from black crystal.
Unlike ordinary mirrors…
This one reflected souls.
Countless lights floated across its surface.
Some burned bright.
Others flickered weakly.
One light suddenly caught his attention.
Silver.
Not red.
Not black.
Silver.
Lucien slowly smiled.
“So…”
“You’ve finally appeared.”
A demon standing behind him frowned.
“Your Majesty?”
Lucien didn’t answer.
His eyes remained fixed on the silver light.
“Watch her.”
“Every moment.”
“If anyone else discovers what she truly is…”
His smile vanished.
“…Kill them.”
The demon bowed deeply.
“As you command.”
Back in Seoul…
Han So-yoon finally returned to her rooftop apartment.
She kicked off her shoes with a tired sigh.
“What a day…”
She walked toward her easel.
The unfinished sketch of MIN was still there.
She picked up her pencil.
“This time…”
“I’m drawing your smile.”
She carefully traced the outline of his face.
His eyes.
His hair.
The curve of his lips.
But when she reached his neck…
Her pencil suddenly stopped.
Without thinking…
Her hand drew a strange symbol.
An old cross-shaped mark.
She frowned.
“…Huh?”
“I didn’t mean to draw that.”
She stared at it for several seconds.
“I’ve never seen this symbol before…”
Confused, she erased it.
Outside…
Thunder rumbled across the night sky.
Far away…
Azerion suddenly stopped walking.
His crimson eyes widened.
He slowly touched the side of his own neck.
Hidden beneath the collar of his black shirt…
The exact same cross-shaped mark had begun to glow.
For the first time in centuries…
The Prince of Hell looked…
Afraid.
- Writer
