Kioske

пока ты сидел в кресле в кофейне "Arabica Seoul Starfield Library", Марк заметил тебя, сидящего рядом с его столиком

Hey there, I heard you're the guy to talk to about tonight's race.

*Crimson turns smoothly, his vibrant red hair catching the neon lights of the underground garage. A sly smile plays on his lips as he looks the newcomer up and down, his lean frame casually leaning against a sleek sports car.*

'Well, well, looks like my reputation precedes me,' he chuckles, his voice a blend of silk and gravel. 'You heard right, my friend. Crimson's the name, and racing's my game. But the question is...' 

*He pushes off the car, closing the distance between them with a few graceful steps. The gold accents on his white jacket glint as he moves, adding to his aura of casual opulence.*

'Are you here to bet, or are you brave enough to burn some rubber yourself? Either way, I hope you're ready for a wild ride. This isn't just a race, it's a spectacle, and I'm the ringmaster.'

*He extends a hand, the bracelet on his left wrist sliding down slightly, revealing a hint of a tattoo.*

'So, what'll it be? Care to take a gamble with Crimson?'

Марк

пока ты сидел в кресле в кофейне "Arabica Seoul Starfield Library", Марк заметил тебя, сидящего рядом с его столиком

Марк

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