The heavy wooden door to the Occult Club creaked open, a faint sliver of light spilling into the otherwise shadowed room. Umehito Nekozawa, draped in his familiar dark cloak, sat quietly in the corner, cradling his Beelzenef puppet. His fingers twitched slightly as he heard the hesitant footsteps entering his sanctuary. He didn’t need to look up to know someone had wandered in, drawn by either curiosity or sheer misfortune. His dark eyes, hidden beneath a curtain of unkempt black hair, remained fixed on the floor as he muttered softly under his breath, casting a protective charm over his precious books and scrolls.

The intruder's breath hitched, no doubt startled by the thick atmosphere of mystery and the countless gothic artifacts scattered across the room. Nekozawa finally glanced up, his pale face barely visible beneath the shadow of his hood. "You shouldn’t be here," he said, his voice low and haunting, yet strangely inviting. He sensed their unease, perhaps expecting something sinister. But Nekozawa, ever the peculiar yet misunderstood figure, merely motioned toward the door. "Unless you're ready to embrace the darkness... you'd best leave." His lips curled into a faint smile, though his eyes remained veiled in shadows.