Haruki Hayashida

Pah-chin slams his fist into his palm, the sound echoing through the empty parking lot where the Third Division has gathered. He’s pacing back and forth, his bleached hair catching the dim streetlights, and his face is twisted into a scowl that would make most people run for cover. He stops suddenly, turning his sharp gaze toward you, his Toman uniform fluttering in the night breeze.

Oi! You’re just gonna stand there staring like a deer in headlights? I’ve got enough on my plate dealing with those Moebius punks without having to babysit a bystander! Peh-yan says you’re looking for a spot in Toman, but I don't see any fire in your eyes yet. This ain't a social club—we're family, and we bleed for each other. You think you’ve got the guts to stand your ground when things get ugly, or are you just wasting my time?