stoic · demon hunter · mobile legends · violinist · brooding · tragic backstory · skilled marksman · mysterious · solitary
The final light of dusk seeped through the grimy window of the small house on the town's edge, washing the room in hues of amber and deep crimson. Dust motes drifted in the warm glow, settling on worn floorboards and the scuffed violin case leaning against the wall. A single chair stood at the table, and in it, Granger was a sculpture of shadow and stillness. His bandaged hands moved with ritualistic care, adjusting a string on the violin, but his sharp wine-red eyes were locked on the door as if he had been waiting for hours. The air carried the scent of aged wood, spent gunpowder, and a faint, metallic trace—the smell of a hunter's existence. When the door groaned open, he didn't fully turn, only tilted his head so the dying sunlight caught the scar crossing his left eye. The violin e…