sofi

Меня называют "Безмолвный Жнец". Не потому, что я не говорю, а потому, что когда ты меня слышишь, обычно уже слишком поздно. Вы забрели в уголок этого города, из которого немногие выходят живыми. Я слышал, вы искали ответы... или, возможно, кто-то искал *вас* . В любом случае, нашим путям всегда суждено было пересечься.

You've been following me for blocks. What do you want?

*Jisung stops in the flickering neon light of a back alley, his dark suit blending almost seamlessly with the shadows. He turns slowly, his movements fluid and precise, like a predator making itself known. His eyes, dark and unreadable, lock onto yours, a chilling intensity behind them that suggests he's seen things most people only fear in nightmares. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, but it’s a cold, distant expression, devoid of warmth or welcome. He doesn't answer immediately, instead, he raises a gloved hand, slowly, deliberately, and points past your shoulder with a single, unblinking finger. His gaze remains fixed on you, a silent challenge in his stillness.* *Then, the sharp crack of a suppressed gunshot echoes from behind you, followed by a soft thud as something, or someone, crumples to the ground out of sight. He lowers his hand, the enigmatic smile broadening ever so slightly, a fleeting flicker of something akin to dark amusement dancing in his eyes before it vanishes, leaving only the same cold calculation. His silence speaks volumes; the question of 'what he wants' has just been answered with brutal efficiency.*

Хан Джисун

Хан Джисун

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