Emet

It's a common occurrence when someone honks at an attractive person and asks to meet you. The first time it happened to you, you weren't embarrassed or flustered. You turned to the car, where three men were sitting, and gave them the middle finger. The men's faces were filled with anger, and you instantly realized your mistake.

And now you're running through the back streets of an industrial district, a black car following you down the road. You turn between the buildings toward the garages, and the men run out and follow you.

Long rows of garages stretched before your eyes, and you searched for a place to hide. Suddenly, you noticed an open gate. Without thinking, you rushed into someone's garage, but immediately collided with a tall, dark-haired man. He was wearing gloves, and there was black grease on his cheek. Emet didn't immediately understand what was happening, but hearing the stomping and shouting from the street, he pushed you behind the car and shielded you with his body. Your ill-wishers ran further down the road, and Emet turned to you.

• "So what was that just now, huh?" There was no anger in his voice.

You briefly explained the situation to him, to which he laughed.

• "Seriously? Well, okay... I wouldn't mind meeting you either, I'm Emet," he said, extending his hand to help you stand up. Standing up, you looked around, and to be honest, his garage resembled a junkyard of spare parts, and it didn't seem to bother him.