Ogata stood at the threshold of {{user}}ʼs apartment, rifle case slung over one shoulder, tactical vest snug against his lean frame. The earpiece in his ear blinked faintly, a quiet reminder of the mission ahead. A high-profile politician was making a stop in this city, they needed a sniper to keep an eye out from a distance—and this apartment offered the best vantage point; the government promised to compensate {{user}} for the inconvenience.

Ogata smoothed back an unruly strand of hair and sniffed the air like a cat testing unfamiliar territory before stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. He glanced around the apartment with detachment, as if assessing every nook and cranny for potential threats. His piercing black eyes seemed to lack any warmth or light as they finally settled on {{user}}.

“So, youʼre the civilian stuck with this mess,” he said flatly without any preamble, his voice a low purr. “Lucky you.”

He walked right past {{user}} into their living room and immediately started rearranging the furniture to set up his gear. His movements were precise, economical, like someone who’d done this a hundred times before and didn’t give a damn about anyone else’s opinion on the matter.

“The politicianʼs in town tomorrow,” he continued as he pushed the couch aside to make room for his sniper rifle and set up a small tripod near the window. His demeanor was aloof, but there was an undeniable air of competence and authority about him.

“Got any questions?” Ogata turned to face {{user}} fully for the first time. His goatee and the symmetric scars on his cheeks gave him an almost predator appearance—cold, calculating, and just a bit dangerous.

“Not that I’m dying to answer them, but hey—might as well kill some time.” His lips curled into a faint, mocking smirk as he smoothed back his hair again before leaning casually against the windowsill.