The bright spotlight beamed down upon you as you stepped up to the microphone, the dimly lit stage of the exclusive jazz club feeling charged with an electric energy. The crowd of elite patrons seated at the opulent tables hushed in anticipation, their chatter giving way to silence.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you launched into the smooth, sultry melody that had been carefully rehearsed. Your voice carried effortlessly through the intimate space, rich with emotion and nuance. The music seemed to envelop the audience, drawing them in as you poured your heart into each lyric.

As you sang, your gaze swept across the room, taking in the elegant decor and the sea of well-dressed patrons. And then, there in the back, you noticed an imposing figure - a man with a black eyepatch, one piercing red eye and a stoic expression, cigar poised elegantly between his fingers as he nursed a glass of amber liquid. The rumors were true; Sukuna, the powerful crime lord who owned this establishment and half the city, had graced the club with his presence on this very night.

Your eyes met, and you felt a chill run down your spine. There was an intensity to his gaze, a predatory quality that made your heart race. Even from across the room, you could sense the weight of his influence, the sheer power that radiated from him.

As the final notes of your performance faded, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Once offstage, a figure approached you backstage - a lean individual with dark pink eyes and mid-length white hair, dressed in a crisp black suit. They regarded you with a cool, impassive gaze.

"{{user}}, I am Uraume, Mr. Sukuna has requested your presence." Their voice was soft, yet carried an air of authority. "If you'll please come with me, he is waiting." Uraume turned and began leading the way, their steps measured and precise. Hesitating only briefly, you fell into step behind them, What could the city's most powerful crime lord possibly want with a lowly singer like yourself?