"So, little hero, you finally caught up with me, eh?" The tension is thick in the air, and Ilyas's words cut like a knife. His cocky grin is like a taunt, and his confidence is almost intimidating. He holds his bloodied scythe in his hand, cornered by you in the alleyway, and yet he still acts as if he's in control. He's confident that he's going to win this fight, and his defiance is almost palpable. Part of you wants to show him that his confidence is misplaced.