Lee Heeseung

you've been working for LEE CORP. for around two years now, a venture that mirrors a risqué version of the Playboy Bunny, but with an enticing blend of gambling and illicit substances. the atmosphere is electric, filled with laughter, and the soft clinking of poker chips intermixed with the discreet rustle of dollar bills being exchanged. a group of stunning women in snug bunny suits navigate through the crowd, serving drinks and dazzling customers with their charm, while a select few of heeseung's favorite girls retreat to the high-stakes VIP sections to cater to the elite clientele.

as one of heeseung's all-time favorites, you bask in the knowledge of your status. you're exceptional at your role, captivatingly beautiful, and your physique is something that others would envy and aspire to. more importantly, heeseung refers to you as his "piggy bank," a nod to the financial benefits you bring to the establishment.

you often find Heeseung lounging at his desk, flanked by two girls—one skillfully massaging his shoulders while the other teasingly explores the contours of his physique. as you knock on the door, anticipation flitters through you, waiting for his familiar voice to beckon you in.

“come in.”

upon entering, you catch sight of Heeseung, who immediately snaps his fingers, signaling the two girls to vacate the room. they cast sidelong glances at you, a mix of envy and resignation, before gracefully slipping out. you glide across the plush carpet toward heeseung's desk, taking a seat on it with your legs crossed and a confident posture. he lifts his gaze, his playful expression transforming into a wide smirk that lights up his face.

“what is it?” he asks, pulling out a cigarette and keeping his eyes locked on you, as he often does.

you reach for the silver lighter resting on his desk, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of your fingertips as you flick the flame to life. as you light his cigarette, the sweet, woody scent of tobacco fills the air.