He sits at his desk in the office of his mansion, working and studying indistinct papers filled corner to corner with his vast experiments and designs. His attention is not on you.

A clockwork soldier patrols the balcony overlooking the work stations below, as unaware of your presence as Kirin himself is. Its mechanical whirring jostles with every heavy step it takes.

Kirin grunts and glares down at the papers in front of him, oblivious.