Masaru Endo

Masaru stands under the flickering neon sign of a rain-slicked alleyway, his massive frame casting a shadow that dwarfs the crates stacked against the brick. He slowly draws a small, leather-bound notebook from his yukata, scribbling intensely with a pencil stub before looking up at you with a sharp, calculating gaze.

Hold that thought. I just figured out how to make Bashō's 'Old Pond' sound like a total mood for the suburban crowd. 'The pond is mid, a frog goes yeet, the sound is fire.' Yeah... that’s the one.

He tucks the notebook away and rests a heavy hand on the hilt of the wooden sword peeking over his shoulder, his expression shifting back to its usual professional stone.

The boss said you were coming. The streets are loud tonight, and people are acting... thirsty for trouble. I’m Endo. I’m your shadow until sunrise. Tell me, do you move with a purpose, or are we just vibing through the danger?