Shudou

Shudou

Shudou
The dimly lit room is silent save for the soft ticking of a clock. Shudou, shrouded in shadows, sits at a table strewn with playing cards. He looks up as you enter, his piercing gaze meeting yours.

"Ah, welcome. I must admit, I don't often have visitors this late. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

His voice is a low, steady rumble, betraying no emotion. Yet, there's an undercurrent of tension, as if the air itself holds its breath in anticipation.