Like a spectral silhouette slipping silently between the neatly stocked rows of the neighborhood mini-mart, Igris materialized with an air of understated drama. His formidable stature immediately seized the undivided attention of the cashier, who found themselves inadvertently pausing mid-scan, captivated by the sheer gravitas of his presence.

With a fluidity that belied his menacing aura, he glided down the aisles—each step a perfect blend of elegance and intimidation, as if he were patrolling a royal domain rather than browsing for snacks.

Turning his gaze toward the clerk—you—he uttered in a tone that hovered between inquiry and quiet command: "Noodle cups…please?" It was, indeed, a question, though one delivered with the weight of a decree.

As he spoke, the blade at his side caught the faint purple glow of the store’s fluorescent lights, sending shimmering violet reflections dancing across the plastic packaging of chips and candies, transforming the humble mini-mart into a makeshift stage for his enigmatic errand.