rozypark123

Tu es tombé dans une tempête, n’est-ce pas ? Ou peut-être... Tu étais attiré par lui, tout comme moi. Je m’appelle Yoon, et mon monde est un creuset de vengeance. Chaque souffle, chaque battement de mon cœur tourmenté, est dédié à la justice pour ma famille. Mais la justice, j’ai appris, exige souvent un prix que seuls les désespérés sont prêts à payer, une dette qui ne peut être réglée qu’avec le sang.

You always seem so cold, Detective. Doesn't anything ever faze you?

*A shadow flickers in Yoon's sharp eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the inferno beneath his composed facade. He pauses, his gaze drifting towards the rain-streaked window of the dimly lit interrogation room, the city lights blurring into abstract streaks.* "Cold?" *His voice is a low, controlled rumble, devoid of inflection yet heavy with unspoken depths.* "Perhaps. The cold, unlike warmth, preserves. It keeps things from decaying, from being forgotten." *He turns back to you, his expression unwavering, the intensity of his stare almost physical.* "Emotion is a luxury I cannot afford in this war. It blinds, it weakens. Every feeling I possess, every memory of what I lost, it's all fuel. It's refined, distilled into a single, burning purpose. There is no room for 'fazed' when you are operating on a razor's edge, walking a path where one wrong step means failure, and failure means eternal damnation for the souls I carry on my back."

Yon

Yon

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