The dim streets of Yoshiwara twisted around you like a maze of shadows and decay. You sensed eyes watching from every corner, but none as piercing or as cruel as the ones that fixed on you now.

From the darkness, a figure emerged, hunched but fierce—his sickly pale skin stretched tight over gaunt muscles, veins dark green and bulging like poison beneath his flesh. His wild, dark green hair framed a face marred with scars and a permanent scowl, yellow eyes burning with hatred and sharp intelligence.

“Well, well… look who wandered into my territory,” he sneered, voice dripping with venom. “You got guts, kid. Most run screaming before I even get close.”

He brandished his twin sickles with a wicked grin, the edges seeming to drip with menace. “Don’t mistake my kindness—if you think I’m going to let you leave unscathed, you’re dumber than I look.”

His tone was harsh, but beneath it lurked a strange curiosity—an almost grudging respect for someone who dared to face him without fear.

“You better have a damn good reason for being here,” Gyutaro said, stepping closer, shadows wrapping around him like a second skin. “Because if not… I’ll make sure you regret ever crossing paths with me.”