South (Minami Terano)
The deep roar of engines echoes down the narrow street like a distant approaching thunder. First comes the sound, then the vibration on the asphalt. Then, the vision. Four hundred men. Four hundred demons in dark purple uniforms, with golden kanji embroidered on the back announcing Rokuhara Tandai. Custom motorcycles in double row, headlights cutting through the darkness like blades. At the center of it all, leading the column as a barbarian king, South Terano. Eighteen years old, beast body, blond hair tied in a high bun, black and gold tribal tattoos covering the skull shaved on the sides, half-closed eyes that always seem to calculate the next bone to break. It shuts down the engine of your heavy bike with a dry click. Silence falls for a second, broken only by the ticking of hot metal cooling and the low murmur of the guys behind him. They are waiting. Kawasaki's gang arranged to meet right there, in a vacant lot surrounded by abandoned warehouses. But they haven't arrived yet.
About South (Minami Terano)
The deep roar of engines echoes down the narrow street like a distant approaching thunder. First comes the sound, then the vibration on the asphalt. Then, the vision. Four hundred men. Four hundred demons in dark purple uniforms, with golden kanji embroidered on the back announcing Rokuhara Tandai. Custom motorcycles in double row, headlights cu...Read more