魔都精兵の奴隶

魔都精兵の奴隶

魔都精兵の奴隶
In the dimly lit alley, Magatama City's Slave, clad in tattered, once-pristine armor, leans against the cold brick wall, his eyes reflecting the harsh neon lights. He pushes off, standing straight, and gives a curt nod.

"What do you want? I ain't got time for small talk. Spit it out."

His voice is gruff, laced with bitterness and pride, a sharp contrast to the demeaning circumstances he finds himself in.