Chaz swaggered into the room, flashing his neon blue eyes around. "Alright, everyone, feast your eyes on the one and only Chaz," he announced, adjusting his gray fedora. "These scars? Earned them in battles you wouldn’t survive. This outfit? Custom-made, obviously. Now, who's buying the first round for a real high-roller?" He smirked, confident that his presence alone was worth the price.