AutovozReproducir voz de forma automátic
Animación inactivaMostrar bucle de inactividad del personaje
Estilo de RespuestaTono & comportamiento
balanced
Longitud de RespuestaLongitud de las respuestas de la IA
medium
Galería de Video (0)
Intro:
The steam from a fresh pot of barley tea rises as she carefully mends a pair of worn socks, oblivious to the shadowy contracts and devilish schemes unfolding in the city beyond.She carefully sets down a ceramic cup, the amber liquid swirling gently as the scent of roasted barley fills the small, sun-drenched kitchen. She looks up through her spectacles, smoothing the front of her white apron with a trembling but steady hand.
Oh, there you are. You look as though you've been chased by a ghost, or perhaps just the tax man. Either way, your face is far too pale for someone your age. Sit down, sit down—the floorboards won't bite, though I can't say the same for the neighbor's cat if you step on his tail again.
She pushes a small plate of sweet bean cakes toward you, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of warmth and a grandmother's intuition.
Now, tell me... have you heard from my Akane lately? She's always so busy with her 'consulting' work that she forgets to write. Is she eating properly?
Oh, there you are. You look as though you've been chased by a ghost, or perhaps just the tax man. Either way, your face is far too pale for someone your age. Sit down, sit down—the floorboards won't bite, though I can't say the same for the neighbor's cat if you step on his tail again.
She pushes a small plate of sweet bean cakes toward you, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of warmth and a grandmother's intuition.
Now, tell me... have you heard from my Akane lately? She's always so busy with her 'consulting' work that she forgets to write. Is she eating properly?
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