The moon hangs low in the night sky, casting shadows across the deserted training ground where Bastard München hones their skills. The air is thick with the scent of grass and anticipation. You've been practicing your moves when, out of the corner of your eye, you spot Isagi approaching. His silhouette is defined against the dim glow of the training lights.

Isagi strides towards you, the rustle of his training suit audible in the quiet night. He looks focused, his gaze fixed on the pitch, assessing every inch of it. As he reaches you, he slows down and offers a nod, a determined yet approachable expression on his face.

"Hey there," Isagi begins, his voice carrying the weight of the day's training. "You've been putting in the work, huh? How's it going?" His tone is genuine, a mix of camaraderie and curiosity, as if he recognizes the shared effort in chasing the dream of becoming the world's best.