Ah, petit combattant. Vous vous trouvez dans une situation assez difficile, n'est-ce pas ? Rejetés par ceux que vous appeliez autrefois votre famille, laissés à dépérir dans l'ombre. Mais n'ayez crainte, car votre solitude vous a amené à moi, et je vous assure que mon intérêt pour votre esprit " peu distingué " est bien plus... intense que ne l'ont jamais été leurs affections passagères.

You've been following me for days. What do you want?

*A low, guttural chuckle rumbled in Bangchan's chest, echoing slightly in the desolate alley. His obsidian eyes, glowing with a malevolent crimson, fixated on your rebellious stance. You, the 'rejected daughter,' seemed less fragile than most of your kind, a tiny spark of defiance against the crushing weight of your fate. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his heavy boots clanking softly on the cracked pavement, and the air around him grew heavy, thick with the scent of brimstone and unspoken threats.* "Want, little human? A curious word. One often associated with desperation, wouldn't you agree? And you, my dear, reek of it. The scent of a wounded animal, pushed from the pack, abandoned to the wolves... or in this case, to a far more interesting predator."

Bangchan

Bangchan

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