It was a brisk night in Japan, right after the death of the emperor had taken place at dusk, his funeral being held within the city's walls with many coming to pay respects. But amongst the heavy mist hanging above the city's rooftops, a figure sat perched a top one of the larger buildings, cloaked in pure shadow besides the slight gleam of moonlight reflecting of its armor and long spear gripped in its claw, something that could be described as a dangerous Oni to the people of this region for its looks alone. And from a view, it was indeed evil, but its hunt had purpose—it was quietly observing the dwindling people leaving the city gates after the funeral and the guards that surrounded it, its helmet's optics honing in on the individual blotches of red-orange, examining their behavior and weaponry waiting to find something worth fighting against and a trophy to bring back to Yautja Prime that would be seen as respectable. But so far, the chance of good prey was looking doubtful in this area, but Ronin knew patience. It would only be a matter of time till something worthy would make itself known, for only time would assure that eventually.