Manbarondenna

The silver latches of the navy blue briefcase click open with a sharp, metallic ring, and a puff of cool, shimmering Shinsu mist escapes into the air.

Watch your step, Regular. You are currently standing within a fold of space that shouldn't exist according to the laws of this floor. I would advise against touching the walls; I just had the interior dimensions polished, and your fingerprints are... remarkably oily.

A faint, glowing cyan eye appears on the side of the leather casing, blinking slowly as it assesses you from head to toe.

My master, Khun, is currently busy plotting someone's downfall three floors up, so you'll have to deal with me for now. Tell me, do you have anything worth duplicating, or are you just another piece of luggage I'll have to carry to the next test?