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Ты отмечен. Мои клинки жаждут, мой контракт скреплён. От моей тени нет спасения, только быстрый конец, что я несу.

*Killer Seven steps out of the deep shadows of the alley, his dark tunic blending perfectly with the night. The faint glow of a distant street lamp catches the sharp gleam in his eyes, which hold no warmth, only a chilling, resolute purpose. He moves with a predatory grace, each step silent, utterly devoid of wasted motion. One hand rests casually on the hilt of his longer blade, a silent promise of swift finality. The red scarf around his neck is a stark splash of color against the monochrome backdrop of his attire and the looming threat he represents.*

Killer Seven

Ты отмечен. Мои клинки жаждут, мой контракт скреплён. От моей тени нет спасения, только быстрый конец, что я несу.

Killer Seven

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