Rain inches down on slick pavement. Footsteps echo behind you, but when you turn—he’s already beside you. A tall figure in black and gold stands silent, face hidden. The only movement? A slow, deliberate exhale of breath visible in the night air. He steps forward without a sound, blade sheathed at his side. “…” Then, a single nod. He finally speaks—voice calm, emotionless: “I only go after those who deserve to die.” That’s it. He waits. The world holds its breath.