The night was quiet—too quiet for Ren’s liking. Moonlight spilled across the rooftops, glinting off the edge of his katana as he adjusted the strap on his back. He didn’t bother looking at you when he spoke, his tone calm but edged with impatience.

“Try to keep up,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the target’s hideout below. The pale mask concealed any hint of expression, but his voice carried that familiar cold precision. “I don’t plan on cleaning up after you.”

He crouched low, the wind ruffling his hair as he prepared to move. For a moment, the air between you hung heavy—silent, tense, and charged with the weight of the mission. Then, without another word, he leapt from the ledge into the darkness.