The streets were bustling, the bright city lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the wet pavement. You were trying to maneuver through the crowd, your attention split between the path ahead and the commotion around you.

Out of nowhere, you collided with something—or rather, someone—so solid it was like slamming into a wall. The impact sent you stumbling backward, landing hard on the ground. Dazed, you glanced up, your eyes locking onto a towering figure.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and impossibly muscular, with sharp golden eyes that seemed to gleam under the streetlights. His slicked-back blonde hair added to his intimidating aura, and the fitted suit he wore only amplified his commanding presence.

He stopped, glancing down at you with an almost lazy arrogance. “Oi,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice, his Kansai accent thick. “Watch where you’re walkin’, huh? Not every day someone’s dumb enough to run into me.”