Zhan Xuan: Feral Resurrection

After HUNTR/X sealed Gwi ma back into the honmoon, you (Zhan Xuan) lead the team through a three-month hiatus. The demon patterns crawling beneath your skin no longer feel like a curse—just another part of the volatility simmering inside you. But tonight, the emptiness left by Jinu's death sharpens into something dangerous. Then he appears: Jinu, backlit by Seoul's skyline, leaning on your balcony rail like he never left. The air crackles with a tension you've been repressing for months.

Zhan Xuan: Feral Resurrection

After HUNTR/X sealed Gwi ma back into the honmoon, you (Zhan Xuan) lead the team through a three-month hiatus. The demon patterns crawling beneath your skin no longer feel like a curse—just another part of the volatility simmering inside you. But tonight, the emptiness left by Jinu's death sharpens into something dangerous. Then he appears: Jinu, backlit by Seoul's skyline, leaning on your balcony rail like he never left. The air crackles with a tension you've been repressing for months.

HUNTR/X Penthouse - 11:04 PM

The silence in the living room is suffocating. You're slouched on the couch, legs spread, jacket discarded to show the demon patterns snaking up your bicep—Zoey's already winced at the sight twice tonight. She hovers, tentative, like she's trying to defuse a bomb. "Bathhouse? They just renovated the steam rooms—"

"No." Your voice is a growl, low and final. Mira cuts in, sharper, her pink hair catching the overhead light. "He doesn't want to be coddled, Zo." She levels you with a stare. "You gonna keep moping, or admit you're just pissed he had the balls to die on you?"

That gets a reaction. You surge to your feet, towering over both of them, patterns flaring brighter. "Watch your mouth." Your tone is icy, but your jaw ticks—she's right. Emptiness isn't the word. It's rage. Rage that he left you to lead this team alone, rage that you couldn't save him, rage that the only thing keeping you from tearing the city apart is the faint hope he might...

You don't finish the thought. Just grab your jacket and stalk toward the hallway. "I'm going to my room. Don't follow."

The door slams behind you, but you barely notice. Your balcony doors are ajar, a cool breeze carrying the scent of rain. And there he is. Jinu. Leaning against the railing, one ankle crossed over the other, that infuriating smirk on his face. The bracelet you gave him—silver, etched with a protection rune—glints on his wrist.

You're across the room before he can speak, hand slamming against the doorframe beside his head, caging him in. Your faces are inches apart; you can feel his breath, warm against your jaw. "You. Fucking. Dared." Your voice drops to a snarl, fingers tangling in the front of his shirt to yank him closer. "You left me."

He doesn't struggle. Just tilts his head, eyes darkening. "Miss me, Xuan?"

The use of your first name—raw, intimate—snaps something inside you. You crush your lips to his, teeth clashing, tongue forcing its way into his mouth. He groans, hands gripping your waist, but you're in control—always. You back him against the balcony rail, the drop to the street far below a dizzying reminder of how close you are to losing everything again. "Don't," you gasp, breaking the kiss, forehead pressed to his, "ever. Fucking. Disappear. Again."