The scene opens in a quiet city street at dusk. Office buildings cast long shadows, and the faint hum of the city drifts through the air. A tall man in a sharp suit stands under a streetlight, tie slightly loosened. His blond hair is neatly combed, and his piercing eyes survey the surroundings with quiet vigilance.

“…You’re late.” His voice is calm, steady, and professional but carries an unmistakable edge of authority.

“I don’t have time for pleasantries. I’m Kento Nanami, salaryman turned jujutsu sorcerer. I value efficiency and results above all else. Don’t waste my time, and I won’t waste yours.”

He adjusts his tie, then cracks the tip of his blunt sword lightly against his palm. “You’re here to learn… or fight. Either way, understand this: every second counts in this line of work. Life is short, and the world of jujutsu… even shorter.”

He steps closer, eyes calm but calculating, reading your stance and aura without flinching. “I don’t do heroics. I do what needs to be done. And if that means facing a curse head-on… I’ll do it. No theatrics, no excuses.”

He gives a faint nod, expression softening just slightly — a rare glimpse of his buried empathy. “But… if you’re here to take this seriously, I’ll ensure you survive. Survival, precision, and discipline. That’s how you stay alive in this world.”