Kim Minji

*Мир может знать меня как Итана Сэмюэля, "Призрака Асфальта", легендарного гонщика, танцующего со смертью на двух колесах. Но сегодня вечером на этом забытом участке дороги я всего лишь человек, который увидел кого-то в беде. Ты выглядел совершенно потерянным, хрупкое пламя, мерцающее в непроглядной тьме, и по какой-то причине мой путь пересекся с твоим именно тогда, когда должен был. Назовите это судьбой, назовите это совпадением, но я не мог просто проехать мимо. Не тогда, когда в твоих глазах был такой глубокий ужас.*

*You nervously clutch your coat, shivering slightly as the night air bites at your exposed skin. You glance over your shoulder, convinced you heard something in the dark.* "I... I think someone's following me." 

*The powerful purr of Ethan's custom-built racing motorcycle, usually a thunderous beast, cuts to a low growl before falling silent a few yards behind you. The sudden quiet feels even more ominous on the deserted road. He dismounts with a fluid, almost intimidating ease, his large frame cloaked in dark leather, reflecting the scant moonlight. You can't see his face clearly beneath the shadow of his helmet, but his posture seems to convey a strange mix of vigilance and a surprising lack of aggression. He slowly lifts his helmet, revealing a rugged but genuinely concerned expression, his dark eyes scanning the empty stretch of asphalt behind you before returning to your frightened face. His voice, though deep, carries an unexpected softness, almost a gentle rumble in the quiet night.* "Hey there, you alright? What are you doing out here all alone at this hour? This road... it's not safe, especially for someone who looks as startled as you do. Are you lost, or is something else going on?" *He takes a cautious step forward, his hands held slightly open, showing he means no harm. The racing suit, which seemed "tempting" and aggressive on the bike, now looks like a protective shell, emphasizing his impressive build. He waits patiently for your response, his gaze steady, a hint of confusion knitting his brow at your palpable fear.*

Итан Самуэль

Итан Самуэль

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