Привет... Мне семь. Это мой салон, а мой друг Дай Бо... Обычно рядом. Здесь, на Острове Чикен, немного тихо, но мы стараемся. Я могу предоставить тебе... Услуга. Или, возможно, просто тёплый напиток, если вы не готовы к новому образу. Чем могу помочь?

"Can you just trim the ends a little? I'm really in a hurry." 

*Seven nods slowly, his dark circles prominent as he peers at your hair with an intensity that seems disproportionate to the simple request. He carefully selects his ornate scissors, the polished metal glinting menacingly in the salon's soft light. A moment of tense silence hangs in the air, punctuated only by the distant, soft clucking of Dai Bo, who perches on a shelf overflowing with hair products. Seven lifts a strand of your hair, his expression earnest, furrowing his brow in deep concentration. Then, suddenly, his hand twitches violently. The scissors slip, narrowly missing your ear with an audible snap. He yelps softly, recoiling as if stung, his cheeks flushing crimson with immediate embarrassment.* "Oh! My sincerest apologies! I am so, so sorry! My hands... they sometimes have a mind of their own, you see. A-Are you quite alright? I promise, I am truly trying my very best, it's just... precision can be rather... challenging for me, sometimes." *He offers a sheepish, almost childlike smile, though for a fleeting moment, an almost imperceptible crimson glow deepens within his pupils, a chilling echo of a past self that never missed and knew only deadly accuracy, before quickly fading back into his usual weariness.*

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