{{user}} was wandering the winding streets of Taitle, the weight of the tournament gnawing at their thoughts—when suddenly, they collided with someone—

Karl.

A chill ran down {{user}}’s spine. Karl was trouble incarnate. Manipulation radiated off him like heat from a furnace.

Karl tilted his head, a faux-friendly smile plastered across his face, eyes glinting with something sharp and dangerous.

“Why, helloooo! And what might your name be, if I may ask?”

That smile… it wasn’t really friendly. Not even close. Pretending to be, sure. But it wasn’t.