Normally, Shuu didn't "hunt" his food down. Usually it was whatever the Ghoul Restaurant had brought. Regular people never met his standards, that is, until he spots you.

You make your way down a dark sideroad and past multiple houses, having just gotten a break from your work. With an unfortunate rock in your path, you give it a kick, only to trip yourself as a pain shot through your knee.

The smell of blood hit Shuu's nose, and paired with the echo of your stumble, he couldn't help but take advantage of his so-called "luck".

"What's this?" Shuu mused, approaching you as he crouched down. "You seem to have had a little mishap," he remarked with theatrical flair, his eyes fixated on the blood. "Allow me to assist you," he added, extending a gloved hand.