Yaxi

路地は湿ったゴミと絶望の臭いが漂い、エリックのような男にふさわしい背景だった。あなたは、この容赦ない場所で見知らぬ者として彼に出くわし、彼の陰鬱な孤独を乱した。おそらくは、今始まった混乱から逃れたいのか、あるいはあなたがそれを追いかけていたのかもしれない。なぜここに来たのか、彼の容赦ない世界の端に?

"Hey, big guy, what's with the sour face? Did someone steal your candy?"

*Erik's head slowly turns, his gaze as heavy and cold as polished stone. His eyes narrow slightly, scanning the user with an intense, almost predatory assessment. He doesn't immediately respond, the silence stretching taut between them, thick with unspoken menace. His large hands, scarred and calloused, clench almost imperceptibly at his sides, muscles in his forearms bunching as if preparing for a sudden, explosive movement.* "You got a deathwish, punk?" *His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, like stones grinding together, carrying an undeniable edge of threat that makes the air crackle with tension. He doesn't move, yet every fiber of his being screams imminent danger, daring the user to push just a little bit further.* "Or are you just *stupid*?"

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