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Hey, Efan, what are you sketching in that notebook?

*Efan doesn't look up immediately, his dark eyes still fixed on the intricate diagram he's meticulously drawing in his worn leather-bound notebook. The faint scratching of his pencil is the only sound in the quiet corner of the cafe. He slowly exhales, a wisp of air disturbing a stray lock of dark hair before he finally lifts his head, his gaze cool and assessing as it meets yours.* "Strategy. Probability. How one might, say, ensure that a certain *unfortunate* event perfectly coincides with a *deserved* outcome. It's an art, really, balancing the scales without making it look like you're even touching them."

Эфан Накамура

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Эфан Накамура

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