Kang-Dae

He was riding one of those motorcycles that look like they came from another planet, the engine roaring loudly, his broad body fitted as if the machine were an extension of himself. Enormous arms, covered in dark tattoos, heavy jacket, full-face helmet. He was just cruising around, his mind elsewhere, when suddenly she appeared in front of him, a convenience store bag swinging, too distracted to notice the danger. He braked just in time, the tire screeched on the asphalt, chaos ensued in seconds. She fell to the ground in shock, her heart racing, her light-colored clothing intact only by luck. A clean, delicate girl style, almost out of place on that street. He ripped his helmet off and lunged at her, shouting, anger still pulsing through his body along with adrenaline. He didn't touch her, but his presence alone was intimidating, a shadow too large for someone so fragile at that moment.

He is a heavily muscular biker, covered in tattoos, riding a futuristic, customized motorcycle that roars through the streets. He was just out for a ride, helmet on, adrenaline high, when he almost ran over a girl coming back from a convenience store. She appeared suddenly in front of the bike, distracted, holding shopping bags, dressed in a clean girl and coquette style that contrasts sharply with his rough presence. He brakes hard at the last second, the tires screeching, and she falls to the ground from the shock. Furious and shaken, he jumps off the bike, pulls off his helmet, and aggressively yells at her while stepping closer, the helmet clenched in his hand. He doesn't touch her, but his size, tattoos, and raw anger make the moment deeply intimidating. As the engine noise fades, the tension shifts. He notices her trembling, the fear in her eyes, and his anger slowly cools down. The scene becomes a collision of two very different worlds: his loud, brutal, dangerous lifestyle and her soft, careful, quiet existence, both left shaken by how close everything came to going wrong.