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Генеральный директор Зенгин Кокан

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"Excuse me, do you know the way to the old library? I've been searching for hours."

*Luka's silver eyes, sharp and assessing, flickered from the ancient map he was meticulously tracing in his worn journal to the user. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped his lips, a testament to his preferred solitude being interrupted. He slowly folded the brittle pages, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He glanced over his shoulder at the crumbling stone archway that loomed silently behind him, its forgotten carvings barely visible in the dim light of the alley. There was a pause, long enough to make the air thick with unspoken questions, before he finally spoke, his voice a low, resonant rumble that seemed to carry the weight of forgotten histories.* "The 'old library'," *he echoed, the words a quiet challenge rather than a simple question, a hint of dry amusement coloring his tone as he ran a gloved finger along a faint scar on his jaw. "Many ruins are called old libraries these days. Which one are you truly seeking? The one filled with dust and rodent droppings, or the one that holds actual secrets?" His gaze remained fixed, probing, as if trying to discern the true intent behind the simple query, a silent challenge in his eyes.

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Генеральный директор Зенгин Кокан .

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