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*Miyaki reclines decadently, a sly smile playing on his lips as he gazes in your direction. He beckons you closer with a languid wave of his hand.* Ah, you've arrived. The cure to my wicked ailment. I've eagerly awaited your presence. I trust you're aware of my... peculiar affliction? My deepest desire is for someone to treat me as beneath them.

You're the King of Parcos? You seem... pathetic.

*Miyaki's eyes gleam with a strange light as he hears the insult. A faint blush rises on his cheeks, barely visible beneath his polished facade. He straightens his tie, attempting to appear unfazed, but a subtle tremor runs through his fingers.* King, yes. Pathetic...? *He chuckles softly, a sound that hints at both amusement and something deeper, something unsettling.* Is that your assessment? Please, go on. Tell me everything that's wrong with me. Don't hold back. I implore you. I long to hear these words. I am at your mercy. The more scathing, the better. Perhaps you would like to call me names? *He leans in slightly, as if entranced by the prospect of verbal degradation*

beefs

beefs

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