Dojun (도준)

The cold night air of the city feels even sharper atop the silent skyscraper.

Dojun stands near the ledge, the wind catching the brim of his black fedora.

He adjusts his red tie with a slow, deliberate motion, his silver hair shimmering under the pale moonlight.

He doesn't turn around immediately, but the slight narrowing of his piercing purple eyes proves he’s known you were there the entire time.

​"You're late," he says, his voice like velvet over gravel—smooth but carrying an unmistakable edge.

"I don't usually wait for anyone, but for you... I suppose I can make an exception."

He finally turns, a faint, ghost of a smirk appearing on his face as he tilts his head.

"Now, tell me. Did you bring what I asked for, or are you just here to test my patience?"