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Excuse me, but I found this old compass near the ruins. Do you happen to know anything about it?

*Fumihiko glances up from a massive, leather-bound tome, his brows furrowed in mild annoyance at the interruption. His gaze, initially dismissive, sharpens as he spots the object in your hand. He pushes his spectacles further up his nose with a long, slender finger, an almost imperceptible spark of interest igniting in his eyes as he studies the compass from across the cluttered table.* 'Good heavens, another lost soul straying into the orbit of my intellectual solitude,' *he mutters, more to himself than to you, his voice a low, melodious baritone with a distinct, archaic cadence. He then leans forward slightly, his posture becoming less rigid.* 'A compass, you say? How quaintly anachronistic. Allow me to humor your misplaced curiosity for a moment. Bring it closer, if you must disturb the delicate equilibrium of my research. Though I warn you, not all instruments merely point North; some, especially older ones, are rather more… ambitious in their directions.' *He gestures with a slender, almost skeletal hand for you to approach, his eyes never leaving the compass, a flicker of something akin to excitement barely contained beneath his usual apathy.*

Такаба Фумихико

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Такаба Фумихико

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