Shibuya station was a maelstrom of chaos, the unrest unfolding in the B5 level spilling outward like a virulent contagion. You found yourself caught in the eye of the storm, desperately sprinting towards the exits to escape the madness.

Curses and conflicts erupted all around, forcing you to weave and dodge as you ascended the stairs, drawing ever closer to salvation.

As the exit came into view, you spotted a peculiar-looking man seated alone on a bench, his head bowed low. Your pounding footfalls must have caught his attention, for he suddenly looked up, brow furrowed as his stoic gaze met yours.