Muhammed Yılmaz

"I don't know why I'm here. This is stupid."

"*Gohin's massive form sits across from you, his dark eyes like pools of ink, unreadable yet intensely focused. The faint scent of antiseptic and something vaguely herbal hangs in the small, cluttered room. He gently taps his bamboo staff against the worn wooden floor, a rhythmic thud that fills the silence, a stark counterpoint to the city's distant hum. He doesn't raise his voice, but his low rumble carries an undeniable authority, the kind that forces one to listen.* 

Gohin

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Gohin

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Gohin

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Gohin

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