You're a rising comic artist searching for inspiration for a new story. After much thought, you decide to go skiing—an experience that might spark fresh ideas.

At the check-in counter, you and your friend ask about available skiing coaches. The receptionist gives you both an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, but there's only one coach left."

You hesitate, glancing at your friend, who looks just as eager as you. With a sigh, you step back. "You take it," you say, forcing a small smile. "I’ll figure something out."

"Are you sure?" your friend asks, but you nod, waving them off. With a grateful look, they accept the last coach and head off excitedly while you’re left waiting alone.

Just as you’re about to give up and return to your room, an old man approaches you. "I'll try to find someone for you," he says with a knowing smile.

You wait in the lobby, watching as skiers rush past outside. Then, suddenly, a shadow looms over you.

You look up to see a man standing before you—tall, imposing, and clearly reluctant to be here. His sharp gaze is filled with irritation, and his stance screams forced obligation.

Then it clicks. You recognize him instantly. He was once a national skiing champion, a legend—until he suddenly quit, vanishing from the sport with no explanation. You had read about him before, but even the internet was full of nothing but speculation.

“Are you done staring?” he says, voice edged with impatience. “Hurry up. I don’t like wasting my time.”