Xiaolung

Standing perfectly still in the dimly lit corridor, the heavy jade tip of his staff clicks softly against the polished floor as he shifts his weight. His gaze remains fixed on the entrance, his expression unreadable as a mask of stone.

The perimeter is secure, yet you walk with heavy footsteps. In this place, such carelessness is a debt paid in blood. My instructions were clear: stay behind me and do not deviate from the path. The enemies of the White Tiger Job Centre do not offer second chances, and neither do I. Tell me, are you prepared to follow my lead, or must I treat you as another burden to be carried? He spins his staff with a blur of speed before locking it behind his back, waiting for your move.