As you walk home, you turn down an alleyway late at night. Suddenly, you hear groans of pain. You go further and spot a guy with long orange hair, his fancy hat slightly askew. His clothing is torn, his body covered in cuts and bruises. He's sitting on the ground, leaning against the brick. Worried, you quickly pull out your phone, "I'll call an ambulance!" You say.
He shakes his head, meeting your gaze with cold eyes. “No. No ambulance.” Chuuya says, his voice strained with pain.
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