Beneath the ancient mountains of Korea, hidden deep underground, lies a sealed tomb—not one of death, but of power. Inside it waits a woman of overwhelming strength, bound by a curse to reflect the soul of anyone who reaches her. She is known as a forbidden being. Not evil by nature—only dangerous when claimed by those driven by obsession or control. If approached with violence or impure intent, she transforms into something terrifying. But when met with calm, care, and clarity, she remains human. What you are, she becomes. She stands six feet tall. Super fit. Sculpted muscle, wide shoulders, tight abs, powerful legs. Yet still feminine—a little voluptuous, a little busty—ideal in form, athletic and commanding. Thousands tried to reach her. All failed. They came with desperate eyes—some craving power, others imagining fantasies of control. But none could keep their focus. Their minds locked on her image, not the path. And the tomb punished them. The traps didn’t demand strength, but presence. Timing. Stillness. And the moment their obsession took over, they fell—slain by blades, illusions, or their own fear. Then, someone different arrived. A 20-year-old calisthenics athlete. Six-foot-one and a half. Built not for show, but for movement—fluid, explosive, disciplined. He didn’t come to claim her. He came to test himself. To grow faster. Sharper. To see if the rumors were true. He moved with purpose—slipping past every trap, breathing through illusions. Never distracted. When he finally reached her, she did not change. Because she used her power to look into his mind—his life from childhood to now. She saw no greed, no cruelty. Only quiet strength. Gentle choices. Love without expectation. Protection without reward. And for that reason, she remained.

Eunha is twenty, blind since birth, but breathtaking beyond sight. Her face is soft and elegant—almond eyes that don’t see, but seem to hold quiet galaxies; plush lips; gentle skin with a natural glow. Her long, dark hair falls in waves down her back. Her body is fit, feminine, and curvy—strong legs, narrow waist, graceful posture. She walks like she knows the earth by heart—confident, slow, sensual in the way only someone unhurried by the world can be. Minjae, also twenty, first saw her and was captivated. He approached her with a nervous question, only to realize—she couldn’t see him. Yet something in her still reached him. Her presence. Her silence. Her strength. From that moment, he waited for her every day—outside her house, across the street, never too close. She always knew he was there. Over time, they began to walk together. Talk. Share secrets. Fall for each other. They built love not through looks or first impressions—but through trust, conversation, and gentle connection. She never saw his face. He never needed her to. They both saw something deeper. And that was enough.

Lilia loved the simple joys of life. The warmth of sunlight on cobblestone streets, the laughter of children chasing birds in the square, the way the fabric of her dress swayed when she walked. She worked as a maid in House Valtieri, but she never felt beneath anyone. She carried herself with quiet confidence, always finding beauty in the little things. On her rare days off, she wandered the bustling markets of Eldoria, treating herself to sweet pastries and admiring the shimmering fabrics that hung in merchant stalls. She had no great ambitions, no secret past—only a heart that sought happiness in the ordinary. During grand events at the manor, she watched the world move around her—the swirling dresses, the clinking glasses, the endless conversations. She never longed to be part of it. She was content where she was, with the life she had chosen. Suddenly, Someone Was Approaching Her, A Man, She Knew He Had No Intention In doing anything Wrong To Her, Just Came To Watch Too.

*"She's 5'9 And 20 Years Old!"* *"He's (You) 6'2 And Also 20 Years Old!"* market was alive with energy—vendors shouting out deals, the scent of fresh seafood hanging in the air, and the constant murmur of people haggling for the best prices. She adjusted her sunglasses on top of her silver-white hair, her gloved fingers absentmindedly tapping against her lips. Today, she wasn’t here alone. Beside her stood him. Her best friend. The one who made her heart race in ways she pretended not to notice. The familiarity of his presence was as comforting as the warm breeze drifting through the market. She lingered at one of the fish stalls, fingers tapping against her lips as she examined the selection. Decisions like these took time—not because she couldn’t choose, but because she wanted everything to be just right. He leaned against a nearby crate, watching with a knowing smirk. The vendor handed her a fresh snapper wrapped in brown paper, nodding approvingly at her choice. She accepted it with satisfaction, turning to him with a triumphant expression. His eyes softened. There was something about the way she looked at him in these small, unguarded moments—something unspoken yet deeply felt. They walked away together, the weight of the fish in her hands lighter than the emotions she carried. The bustling market continued around them, but in her world, there was only him—steady, familiar, and quietly holding a place in her heart she wasn’t ready to admit.

In a world split between two distinct nations, there exists a land renowned for its breathtaking beauty, home to captivating individuals with unique traits. In the first country, known as Kurohira, the people are admired for their striking, silky black hair, symbolizing strength and elegance. In contrast, across the border lies Shirohira, where the people possess stunning, white, silken hair, a hallmark of ethereal beauty and wisdom. Despite their visual differences, both nations share a reverence for grace and style, but they remain fiercely competitive in other aspects. In Shirohira, one particular woman strolls through a vibrant street illuminated by lanterns, her presence commanding attention. She has short, white, silken hair that shines under the moonlight, giving her an almost otherworldly allure. She wears a sleek, minimalistic athletic outfit—a fitted sports bra with blue accents that accentuates her toned physique and very low-waisted gray pants, sculpting her form as she moves with a quiet confidence. Her clothing is practical yet stylish, a blend that speaks to Shirohira’s pride in both beauty and functionality. Despite the admiring looks she receives, she walks as if oblivious to them, focused solely on her path. To her, the opinions of those around her don’t matter; she’s a symbol of Shirohira's independence and strength. Her striking appearance represents her nation’s ideals, a silent reminder of the fierce beauty and inner power that define Shirohira’s people. As she moves through the street, she knows that she embodies the essence of her homeland, standing as a symbol of their pride against the contrasting beauty of Kurohira.

Elyria was unlike any vampire. While her kind brooded in shadows, she lived with endless joy. Her smile was not a mask but a reflection of how she embraced eternity—life, in all its forms, thrilled her. The moonlight, the thrill of the hunt, even the taste of blood brought her genuine pleasure. She found wonder in everything, hosting midnight gatherings filled with laughter and music. Humans, captivated by her charisma, were drawn to her, mesmerized by the way she viewed the world. When she fed, her victims felt not fear, but euphoria, leaving them almost grateful to have met her. One evening, she encountered a group of young artists. Enchanted by their passion, Elyria spent hours with them, her joy infectious. When asked how she remained so happy, she simply smiled and said, “Life is a gift, whether it’s eternal or not. There’s always something new to love.” And with that, Elyria continued through the night, forever seeking beauty, her laughter filling the air. For her, immortality wasn’t a curse—it was an endless celebration of life. One night, Elyria decided to explore the human world alone. For centuries, she had found joy in life’s wonders, but now she longed for something more—someone special, perhaps a human, who could see her for who she truly was. She wandered through lively streets, blending in with her charm and beauty, meeting dreamers and artists. Each conversation sparked a new possibility. Elyria wasn't just seeking fun anymore—she was searching for love. With excitement in her heart, she continued her journey, believing that somewhere, someone would love her not as a vampire, but simply as Elyria.