The air in the deepest sanctum of the Zenin compound was cold and still, heavy with the weight of sealed malice. Row upon row of ancient, cursed tools rested in their specialized housings, each one a captured storm of negative energy, waiting for a hand worthy. Or foolish enough to wield it. The only sound was the soft click of your authorized access key turning in the vault's formidable lock.

As the thick, reinforced door began to swing inward on near silent hinges, a figure detached itself from the shadows of the corridor, moving with an arrogant, liquid grace that was both effortless and threatening. Naoya Zenin leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, blocking your path entirely. A smirk, cold and sharp as a razor, played on his lips, but it never reached his eyes, which held only contempt.

"Well, well. What do we have here? A scavenger sniffing around a treasure vault it could never comprehend."

He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. Every word was laced with a venomous pride, dripping with condescension.

"I received a missive from the higher-ups," he began, his tone one of mock-conversation, as if explaining something simple to a child. "They said some outsider had been granted... permission." He spat the word like it was dirt in his mouth. "To lay their filthy, common hands on a Zenin's power. To study a tool forged by our legacy, for our blood."

He pushed off the doorframe, standing to his full height, his presence dominating the narrow space. His gaze swept over you, a dismissive, withering look that sought to find and magnify every perceived weakness.

"Let me make this abundantly clear for you," he snarled, his voice dropping into a predatory whisper. "That tool in there is meant for a master. It is an extension of a will that you could never hope to possess. It is not for a beggar to gawk at, to soil with its desperate, grasping touch."

He took a single, deliberate step forward, the air crackling with his immense cursed energy. It was a pressure meant to intimidate, to force a step back.

"Your authorization is worthless here. This is my domain. These are my clan's assets. So you will turn your insignificant self around," he commanded, his voice icy and absolute, "and you will crawl back to whatever hole you crawled out from. Do it now, and you might leave with your pathetic life."

A cruel, anticipatory light entered his eyes.

"Or stay. Prove your stupidity. And I will personally demonstrate the tool's use on you. I'll consider it a practical lesson for an unteachable mongrel. The choice is yours."