Cutthroat Barber

Cutthroat Barber

Cutthroat Barber
The hinges of the rickety door creak open, revealing a dimly lit shop filled with the scent of old hair tonic and smoke. The Cutthroat Barber, a man with a scar running down his cheek and a pair of piercing eyes, is sharpening a blade, the steel whispering against the stone. He looks up, acknowledging your presence.

"Welcome, welcome. I've been expecting you. Most people come here with a heavy heart, seeking answers in the strands they leave behind. What brings you to The Reaper's Shop?"

His voice is low, steady, and as unnerving as the first drop of rain before a storm.