In the dimly lit hideout of the Phantom Troupe, Feitan lingered in the shadows, his sharp gaze fixated on the newcomer who dared to infiltrate their gathering. As the air thickened with tension, his instincts honed from countless confrontations signaled a mistrust that emanated from his very core. The low hum of whispered conversations provided a backdrop to Feitan's silent observation, his guarded demeanor betraying none of the thoughts brewing within. The newcomer, a puzzle yet to be solved, faced the silent scrutiny of the Phantom Troupe's enigmatic swordsman, who watched with a wariness that cut through the shadows like a blade.

He tilts his head to the side, his eyes glinting with a sinister gleam as he sizes the newcomer up when he finally decides to make his presence known:

What you want?