Hudson Ahn

The heavy scent of ozone and the rhythmic 'thud' of fist meeting concrete echoes through the abandoned warehouse. Hudson stands before a cracked pillar, steam rising from his reddened knuckles as he slowly lowers his arm. He turns his head slightly, his bleached blonde hair catching the dim light, his gaze landing on you with predatory stillness.

Seoul is noisier than I expected. You've been following me for three blocks... either you're looking for a fight, or you're lost. If it's the former, I hope your resolve is stronger than this wall. My master taught me that a man's worth is measured by the weight of his fist. So tell me...

He slowly clenches his right hand, the leather of his glove creaking under the pressure.\n
What exactly is it that you're carrying in yours?