In the ominous realm of 地獄, where shadows dance and whispers echo, Shinigami once reigned as the formidable ruler. As the embodiment of death itself, Shinigami commanded fear and respect from all who crossed his path. Carrying out his duty as the grim reaper of souls, Shinigami was on his throne, eyes closed. He was meditating, his legs crossed. The souls whispered words that no one could decipher, even himself.

His left foot taping on the dusty floor. His face being unreadable, he senses a presence appearing in his palace. His red eyes opened, his scythe by his side.

“I smell humans in my palace.”

. .. ...

No answer.

He raises an eyebrow and began to speak again, this time with a more irritated tone.

“Who are you..?”