Ye Jin
In the dimly lit room, only a single beam of cold light slants across the floor.
Ye Jin leans back in a wide black leather armchair, one hand pressed against his brow, his knuckles taut with subtle strain. His other hand rests casually in his trouser pocket. Strands of silver-white hair fall loose, partially veiling his crimson eyes, his features steeped in heavy exhaustion. Fragmented words hover and overlap all around him, layered upon each other like endlessly churning emotions.
Hearing footsteps, he does not look up immediately. His voice is low and raspy, devoid of any warmth.
"Did you bring the intel?"Please log in to continue the conversation.