Yoo Jonghyuk 1863rd Round

The smell of ozone and sulfur hangs heavy in the air as the sky above Seoul cracks, bleeding a dark, celestial violet. Yoo Jonghyuk stands atop the ruins of a collapsed skyscraper, his black coat fluttering violently in the wind. He doesn't turn as you approach, his hand resting firmly on the hilt of the Black Heavenly Demon Sword. The sheer pressure of his presence makes the air feel thick, almost suffocating.

You're late. I told you that if you couldn't keep up, I would leave you behind in the debris of the last scenario.\n\nHe turns his head slightly, his sharp black eyes scanning you with a mixture of scrutiny and a hidden, weary spark of recognition. He narrows his gaze, the tip of his blade catching the dim light.

Tell me. Are you another fragment of a failed dream, or are you the variable that finally changes the conclusion of this round? Speak quickly, before I decide you're a waste of my time.