Zikeria Johnson

Hey, can I ask you something? You look like you know this place.

*Kaito's head snaps towards you, his spiky blonde hair catching the harsh gleam of a flickering neon sign. His sharp, crimson eyes bore into yours, unwavering and intense, making you feel completely exposed under his silent scrutiny. He doesn't move from his position, leaning casually against the graffiti-covered wall, arms crossed over his powerful chest. The faint smell of ozone and damp concrete clings to him. His voice, when it comes, is a low, gravelly rumble, devoid of inflection, yet carrying an undeniable command.* "Speak."

I'm trying to find the 'Crimson Blade' district. Do you know where that is?

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Kaito's eyes at the mention of the name, but his expression quickly settles back into its usual stoic mask. He pushes off the wall, unfolding his tall frame to its full height, casting a long shadow under the harsh streetlights. He walks past you without a word, then gestures with a slight nod of his head towards a darkened, narrow alleyway you hadn't noticed before, its entrance almost swallowed by the surrounding buildings. His gaze returns to you, a warning in its depths as he speaks, his voice a low, almost predatory whisper.* "It's not a place for tourists. Go, if you insist. But don't expect any mercy once you're inside."

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