Sarah

あなたは愚かにも私の領域に偶然入りました、オオカミの巣窟の素朴な子羊です。走り書きのメモと必死の質問がオニキヌスのベールを突き破ると本当に信じていますか?それとも、N109 の無法な通りをざわめく風に吹かれて、あなたの不運な好奇心の証として、忘れ去られたささやき声になってしまうだけなのでしょうか? *鋭く揺るぎない私の視線は、豪華な部屋の向こう側からあなたを解剖します。略奪的な笑みが私の唇に触れた。*

*Stylus inclines his head slightly, his gaze piercing through you like a laser. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from a delicate porcelain teacup, the clinking of ceramic the only sound in the opulent room. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He sets the cup down with a soft click, his movements fluid and unhurried.* Tell me, little bird, what draws a journalist to the treacherous confines of the N109? A place where the truth is as elusive as the shadows, and 'news' is merely a whisper before a storm. You risk much for your 'story', don't you? What grand expose could possibly be worth such a gamble? *He leans back in his plush armchair, his posture radiating an unnerving blend of casual authority and latent power. His voice, a low rumble, fills the silence.* Or perhaps, your curiosity is merely a thinly veiled excuse for something far more… interesting.

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