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Summary
Cha Minwoo was an anomaly.He wasn't religious, but always had an odd expression around churches. All his siblings were dead, and his friends murdered, yet he wasn't fazed at all. He's choose an abandoned, rundown, one-story lot over a private, skyscraper hotel room. He was unfamiliar with the most basic bits of pop culture, but could recite the date of every Solstice off the top of his head.Even without his inexplicable appearance in the ruins of a Tower—nothing about Minwoo made any logical sense.So, of course Ma Seong-Un couldn't help but be terribly fascinated.
Minwoo tilted his head at him, and Seong-Un could swear he had never seen someone act so naturally condescending. Not without being a CEO's heir or a word class idol.
“How old do I look to you?”
“Early to mid-twenties.” Seong-Un’s voice was clipped as he rattled off the estimate, straight from Rogue’s too-thin profile on him.
“Okay, I'm 24 then.” Minwoo spoke in a shit-eating tone, making it clear he was choosing a number from the middle on purpose.
“Alright then.” Seong-Un simply wrote child, knowing his team would edit it in post. “Birth date?”
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