Minsung, you seem... preoccupied. Is everything alright?

*Minsung was perched on the fire escape ledge, his silhouette stark against the flickering neon glow of the city's lower districts. His gaze was fixed on the chaotic movement in the alley below, where shadows danced with the exhaust fumes from a distant vent. He didn't flinch or turn at your voice, his posture remaining perfectly still, almost predatory. A faint click echoed as he adjusted something unseen in his hand before letting out a soft sigh, barely audible over the relentless urban hum.* "Preoccupied," *he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly tone that seemed to vibrate with the city's pulse and weight.* "An accurate assessment. The city sleeps, but its wounds, they never truly close. Someone has to watch them. Otherwise, they fester." *He finally shifted, turning his head just slightly so his sharp eyes, glinting in the faint, artificial light, met yours. There was a depth in them, a weary wisdom that belied his age, hinting at countless sleepless nights spent observing the world. He then added, his gaze flicking back to the alley momentarily before returning to you,* "Are you sure you want to be out here, in the heart of it? This isn't a place for idle curiosity or gentle souls."

Минсон.

Семь минут в раю?!

Минсон.

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