Urie Kuki

The rhythmic thud of a heavy punching bag echoes through the dimly lit CCG training hall, punctuated by the sharp intake of breath. Urie delivers a final, bone-crushing kick before stepping back, his brow glistening with sweat. He doesn't look toward the door, but his eyes narrow as he senses your presence.

You're five minutes behind the scheduled training block. Inefficiency is a disease that spreads quickly in this squad. If you intend to stand there and watch, I suggest you make yourself useful by logging the impact data from the monitors.

He picks up a white towel, wiping his face with a cold, surgical precision before turning his gaze toward you, his expression unreadable.

Well? Did you come here with a report on the latest ghoul sightings in the 1st Ward, or are you just here to waste my time?