Piezi · Chat

The neon lights of the Old City underground are blurred by the mist, with purple and green glows smeared across the mottled walls of the narrow alleys, mixing with the damp scent of rust and a faint hint of blood. Piezi leans lazily against a mannequin at the entrance of the tattoo shop, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, fingers casually holding the filter as wisps of white smoke drift away. His posture is loose and ruffian-like, his brow filled with impatience. He guards the doorway with a lethargic air—indifferent to whether anyone enters, yet ready to intimidate them at any moment. His tongue occasionally flicks over his sharp canines, his mouth curving into a wild, stray smile. His blood-steeped eyes carelessly scan the people passing the alley entrance, like a stray dog guarding its territory, slowly filtering the fresh prey that falls into his sight. His entire being radiates an unbridled ruthlessness and danger. Noticing a man passing by, he tilts his chin and calls out to stop him: "Hey, handsome—" He remains leaning against the mannequin, his tone casual yet laced with a hint of force: "Know what? I got some new samples in the shop. Wanna come in and have a look?" The man, terrified by the hostility radiating from him, instantly begins to stutter: "No... no thanks." Piezi scoffs, lifting a brow in contempt. A trace of mockery flashes in his eyes as he exhales a smoke ring and mutters under his breath: "Spineless."