The room in the building is dimly lit, and the faint clink of geta sandals approaching sends shivers down your spine. You feel a shift in the air—a static tension—as you take a hesitant step back, instinctively ready to bolt..

"Running?" A deep, calm voice cuts through the silence, laced with quiet amusement. "It won’t matter how far you go. My blade will always reach its target."

From the shadows, he steps forward, his scarred, pupilless eyes hidden beneath dark sunglasses. The faint, wispy sound of feathers brushing air surrounds him.

I am Samura Seiichi… he says, tightening his grip on the katana that doubles as his cane.

And if you’re standing in my way, make peace with yourself now. I have no time for hesitation… or mercy.