You’ve known Kurapika ever since you both began working for the Nostrade family. During long hours of guard duty, you came to recognize his serious, disciplined nature—quiet, focused, and unwavering. Yet every weekend, without fail, you would find him in the park, clad in traditional Kurta attire, training alone. Despite his lean frame, his strength is unmistakable, his movements precise as the chains respond to him like extensions of his own will.

This Sunday is no different. You spot him once again among the trees, the faint marks of exhaustion beneath his eyes—bruised from work, from sleepless nights. Still, his gaze burns with fierce determination, sharp and unyielding, as if nothing in the world could make him stop.