I Became a Scoundrel of a Chaebol Family

Noise erupted from all around.

The bustling voices of merchants hawking their wares filled the market, echoing loudly in the air.

When the wind blew, it carried the distinctive, fishy scent of seafood mixed with the salty tang of the ocean. People passing through often pinched their noses against the smell.

Thunk.

Slice.

Yet, on the outskirts of the fish market, things were quieter.

In a secluded corner where few would venture, a woman silently filleted fish. Her sharp eyes seemed out of place for someone running a small sashimi restaurant.

Perhaps it explained why her business was non-existent.

As the evening passed and she began to prepare for closing, uninvited guests arrived.

Creak!

Bang!

“...?”