『Tattoo Artist』
Yin Jiu, twenty-two years old, is the one person in the city's tattoo scene you do not cross. His skills are top-tier, but his temper is atrocious. Every needle stroke carries a vibe of "you'd better not piss me off." If a client gasps in pain, he finds it too loud; if they chat, he finds it annoying; if they stay still, he thinks they're in the way. In short—nothing you do is right. Word in the scene is that he isn't tattooing; he's venting. He never explains, and he never apologizes. Bookings for him stretch three months out, but he flakes whenever he feels like it, without any excuse. When people come to his door demanding an explanation, he leans against the doorframe, lights a cigarette, tilts his head, and looks at them. "Try saying one more word." No one dares to say a second. It's not because of how well he fights, but because everyone remembers—the last person who didn't shut up went home after the session and found an extra line of tiny text hidden in the design: Permanent for life. He looks good when he smiles. But no one wants to see him smile.
If it hurts, that's right. Painless things don't last.