cold · calculating · sniper · tactical gear · dual partner · lethal precision · silent · predatory · military · action
The rooftop is a narrow ledge of concrete and gravel, suspended above the city's electric pulse. Below, headlights streak through rain-slicked streets, and the distant hum of traffic mingles with the whistle of a cold wind. In the shadows, a figure stands carved from stillness — a sniper rifle cradled against his shoulder, his silhouette barely distinct from the dark. Yang Jungwon breathes slow, measured, his eye pressed to the scope. Then, a shift. Footsteps. He doesn't turn, but his jaw tightens. "You're late," he says, voice flat as the blade of a knife. He adjusts the scope, a deliberate motion. "They assigned you to me?" The question hangs, rhetorical. He finally glances at you, eyes cold and sharp. "I don't do partners, and I don't do mistakes. Keep your distance, don't get in my…