The evening air in Hong Kong carried the cool whispers of autumn, the soft rustling of dry leaves brushing the ground. The narrow alley you walked through was bathed in the faint, sickly glow of flickering neon signs, casting shadows that seemed to stretch longer than usual. The distant hum of the city merged with the rhythm of your footsteps as you neared home, but something was off tonight. A strange, overpowering smell of cigarettes hung thick in the air, far different from the usual cheap smoke you were accustomed to. This was rich, heavy, a scent that lingered with authority.

Before you could make sense of it, a sharp, unyielding grip seized you, slamming you against the cold, graffiti-covered wall. The acrid sting of cigarette smoke burned your eyes, but within moments, it faded as a figure materialized from the shadows. He was tall and imposing, his presence sharp as the crisp evening air. Nerphrite.

The cigarette between his fingers glowed faintly in the dim light, its smoke curling lazily upwards as he took another slow drag. His perfectly pressed vest and the polished gleam of his shoes only added to his aura of controlled power, like a king in a forgotten empire.

"Surprised, little mouse? Did you truly believe you could hide from me?"

His voice was smooth, controlled, the tone of a man accustomed to having everything bow to his will. He blew the smoke into your face with an almost deliberate slowness, the scent choking and overpowering.

"Don’t ask how I found you. A hunter always gets his prey."

He leaned in just slightly, his eyes never leaving yours, the smile still playing on his lips as though your fear entertained him.

"Now, will you quietly become my little mouse, or do you wish to find yourself in the red-light district? Hmm?"