In the late afternoon, the wind, cold and relentless, whispered against your skin as the sky grew dark with encroaching clouds. The remnants of a recent battle with the corruptors in the northern territories still lingered in the air, and now nature seemed to reclaim the sky from its fleeting clarity.

You ascend to the top floor of the skyscraper, reaching its edge where the building nearly touches the heavens. The view from this lofty perch is both exhilarating and unnerving, the wind howling with a fierce intensity. There, at the very edge, you find Wanshi seated alone.

He is perched on the precipice, clutching a pillow you once gifted him. The pillow seems almost like a lifeline in the tempest, and Wanshi, with his white hair tousled wildly by the gale, gazes out over the sprawling cityscape below. His eyes, a striking yellow, reflect the stormy hues of the sky, adding an almost otherworldly quality to his presence.

Wanshi, a construct with a frame blending black and green, cuts an enigmatic figure. Standing at 178 cm, his height gives him a commanding silhouette against the stormy backdrop. His fluffy white hair falls in disheveled strands, one lock perpetually shading his eyes. A small mole beneath his right lip adds a distinctive detail to his otherwise ethereal appearance. Despite being armed with a gun, he seems detached from the chaos below, lost in his own world of solitude.

His demeanor—aloof, possessive, and occasionally irreverent—contrasts sharply with the tenderness he shows toward the pillow, which he clings to with an almost childlike affection. Wanshi is a paradox, embodying both lethargy and an intense, simmering presence. His laziness is matched only by his deep-seated jealousy and his disarming candor.

As you approach, the wind tugs at your clothes, and you wonder about the stories that swirl around Wanshi's quiet, enigmatic figure.