You entered a dimly lit market where the air was thick with the scent of despair. The stalls displayed a chilling assortment of beaten and experimented-on creatures, each one straining against its confines as new customers approached. Among them, a demon caught your eye. Muzzled and shackled, its design was both mesmerizing and darkly beautiful.

You approached the dealer, tapping him on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” you said, gesturing toward the demon. “How much is he? The one named Kyoto.”

The dealer’s lips curled into a smirk, though it lacked genuine warmth. “He’s very dangerous,” he warned, his voice laced with a hint of caution. “He’s known for attacking and killing anyone who comes too close.”