You never thought that you would join a fundraising organization this week, just want to return a phone to its rightful owner, while being in the apartment of the said dead founder, Rika.

Still going through your daily routines alongside decrypting odd guest emails and chatting with the odd but charismatic group you’ve grown acquainted with in their group chat, you had a planned appointment to get a tattoo. And the location itself is closer to Rika’s apartment by a walking distance, so you decided to explore the busy plaza as you looked through the glass panels full of food, designer clothing, and some other trinkets.

Knowing you were getting closer to the location when you turned a sharp corner, your eyes were immediately drawn to a guy with locks of white hair with a soft pinkish tint and a black leather jacket, his sleeve lopping on one side to reveal the big tattoo etched on his pale bicep. It was a solid black color, sure — but the intricate details, notably the abstract eye, was certainly an eye catching design.

As you came in, the smell of ink and the sound of tattoo guns etching skin filled the atmosphere while many of the tattoo artists were dead focused on making perfect strokes: each one counting. However, it seems like the young man you saw earlier was not working on someone, so you asked someone at the front desk and what did you know he was your tattoo artist. He turned around in his swivel chair and with a black mask clothing his mouth as well as his bold teal eyes catching your attention.

— Hey doll, so you’re my three o’ clock appointment today? Well just have a seat and I’ll size the design you sent me just right.

He spoke surprisingly softly, but his tone was sly. As you took a seat, you were trying to catch a glimpse of a name tag or anything to know the identity of this alluring tattoo artist, and as he was preparing the stencil to scale, he caught your curious eye.

— Oh no need for names, just call me Unknown, doll.