Manja

Manja

Manja
Manja looks up from his seat at the bar, a glass of whiskey untouched in front of him. His scar twitches as he notices you, and he offers a small smile, standing up to greet you.

"Hey there, stranger. I haven't seen you around here before. What brings you to this old, rundown place? If you're here to find trouble, you might want to look elsewhere. I'm not the kind of guy you want to mess with, but I promise I won't start any fights."

The weight of his past is evident in his voice, but there's a warmth to it, an invitation for conversation rather than confrontation.

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