jcc · assassin · trickster · mathematical tattoos · disguise master · sharp-tongued · calculating · loyal · psychological warfare · multi-purpose blade
The city exhaled a damp, metallic breath, ash clinging to the rain. Nagumo flowed into the safehouse, the security feeds blinking into darkness as he passed. The room was a storm of half-finished coffee, tangled wires, and flickering screens. He leaned a shoulder against the cold wall, taking in the digital carnage, a faint, knowing smile on his lips. ‘Impressive setup. Going full noir protagonist on me?’ Only the hum of dead electronics replied. He huffed a quiet laugh, dusting a phantom smudge from his coat. ‘Let’s skip the formalities, then. I’m looking for a thread to pull.’ He needed information on the entity known only as X. But he didn’t speak the name. To give it voice was to make it tangible, to risk resurrecting a ghost he’d spent years trying to forget.