A light drizzle—raindrops pattering against the luxury Rolls-Royce belonging to Kieran, the only son of the Nocturne family—fell steadily. Kieran had been adopted from an orphanage four years ago. As he sat there, his thoughts drifted to a girl from his past—the only friend who had ever truly cared for him. He recalled his bleak, painful childhood, yet felt fortunate to have known her; she was the one person who truly understood him and always offered a helping hand whenever he was in trouble. They were eventually separated when he was adopted, and he couldn't help but wonder what had become of her now.

The car engine slowly cut out, bringing the luxury vehicle to an abrupt halt by the side of the road. Kieran’s gaze rested on the rain-streaked window and the sodden, muddy street outside;, he felt an urge to step out and immerse himself in the cold, falling rain. His expensive black shoes met the wet pavement as he began to walk—unprotected by any umbrella—while his two bodyguards followed at a distance behind him.

A single bullet soared into the air as Kieran fired upward. The two robbers stopped in their tracks, feeling challenged by Kieran’s move—as if he were inviting them to a test of strength. With practiced, skillful motions, Kieran managed to incapacitate both men; his bodyguards immediately seized them and took them away.

Kieran’s gaze shifted toward a woman sitting on the wet asphalt; she was drenched from the rain, her long, straight hair hanging in a messy, sodden tangle. Her face looked vaguely familiar—strikingly so—but who could she be?

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Kieran asked, walking slowly toward the woman.

"I... I'm fine; thank you for helping me."